me stupid stare fastened upon my
eyes. I pulled the trigger in the nearest face, and the terrific din of
the fight going on above us was overpowered by the report of the pistol,
as if by a clap of thunder. The man's gaping mouth dropped the knife,
and he stood stiffly long enough for the thought, "I've missed him," to
flash through my mind before he tumbled clean out of the boat without
touching anything, like a wooden dummy tipped by the heels. His headlong
fall sent the water flying high over the stern of the dinghy. With the
second barrel I took a long shot at the man sitting amazed, astride of
the rail above. I saw him double up suddenly, and fall inboard sideways,
but the fellow following him made a convulsive effort, and leapt out of
sight on to the deck of the ship. I dropped the discharged weapon, and
fired the first barrel of the other at the upper of the two men clinging
halfway up the ship's side. To that one shot they both vanished as if
by enchantment, the fellow I had hit knocking off his friend below. The
crash of their fall was followed by a great yell.

These had been all nearly point-blank shots, and, anyhow, I had had a
good deal of pistol practice. Macdonald had a little gallery at Horton
Pen. The _Lugarenos_, huddled together in the boat, were only able to
moan with terror. They made soft, pitiful, complaining noises. Two or
three took headers overboard, like so many frogs, and then one began to
squeak exactly like a rat.

By that time, Castro, with his fixed blade, had cut their grapnel rope
close to the ring. As the ship kept forging ahead all the time, the
boat of the pirate bumped away lightly from between the vessel and our
dinghy, and we remained alongside, holding to the end of the severed
line. I sent my fourth shot after them and got in exchange a scream and
a howl of "Mercy! mercy! we surrender!" She swung clear of the quarter,
all hushed, and faded into the mist and moonlight, with the head and
arms of a motionless man hanging grotesquely over the bows.

Leaving Seraphina with Castro, and sticking the remaining pair of
pistols in my belt, I swarmed up the rope. The moon, the lights of
several lanthorns, the glare from the open doors, mingled violently in
the steamy fog between the high bulwarks of the ship. But the character
of the contest was changing, even as I paused on the rail to get my
bearings. The fellow who had leapt on board to escape my shot had bolted
across the deck to his