dily shared with such of his men as showed spirit the
great booty that was acquired by his fearless disposition. When he went
upon these buccaneering expeditions he sailed in his frigate, his own
property, nor would he take a lion's share of the treasure obtained
from captured Spanish merchantmen, but divided it equally with those
who formed his ship's company.

Such was the remarkable man to whom we owed the restoration of the
"Golden Seahorse".

From Captain Montbar we learned the particulars connected with the
recovery of our ship from the Spaniards.

"I had been driven out of my course," he said, "by contrary winds, when
we sighted a vessel flying the Spanish flag, which I am bound, by a
solemn oath, whenever an opportunity offers, to destroy. I was about to
sink her when I noticed an unusual number of people upon her decks,
among whom were several women and children, and, since I war only with
men, I sent a boat to demand the surrender of the vessel. This was at
once agreed to. Her colours were struck, and my own hoisted at the
mizzen. I then went on board to hold an enquiry, and decide what was to
be done, when I found that the ship had been stolen from a party of
Dutch navigators on a visit to this country. The object of stealing the
ship was for the purpose of conveying the settlers, who had been
marooned here for some years, to their homes. It was not difficult, in
the crowded state of the vessel, to find many who were prepared to
disclose the whole truth. Donna Isabel Barreto, who appeared to be a
queen among these people, then offered to make terms with me,
promising, if I would suffer her to continue the voyage, she would
send, as ransom, a large sum of money, of which she professed to have
command at Madrid; but, having some experience of Spanish promises, I
declined this offer, preferring to retain possession of the ship I had
captured, which appeared to be of good build and well found. I
undertook, however, to disembark Donna Isabel and her followers upon
the first land we sighted, which happened to be a desolate-looking
island by no means comparable with this fertile valley. Isabel
then threw herself on her knees, and implored me not to abandon her,
and her people, to death by slow starvation, which the landing of so
great a company on such an uninviting shore would mean. But I was
obdurate. 'Be thankful,' said I, 'that your lives are spared you. It is
not for me to interfere with the decrees of Fate.