m two twenty-gun frigates that were lately
the property of Spain, to say nothing of two hundred and fifty thousand
pieces of eight and other plunder. And all this in spite of Don Miguel's
four galleons and his heavily armed fort that at one time had held the
pirates so securely trapped.

Heavy, indeed, grew the account of Peter Blood, which Don Miguel swore
passionately to Heaven should at all costs to himself be paid in full.

Nor were the losses already detailed the full total of those suffered
on this occasion by the King of Spain. For on the following evening,
off the coast of Oruba, at the mouth of the Gulf of Venezuela, Captain
Blood's fleet came upon the belated Santo Nino, speeding under full sail
to reenforce Don Miguel at Maracaybo.

At first the Spaniard had conceived that she was meeting the victorious
fleet of Don Miguel, returning from the destruction of the pirates. When
at comparatively close quarters the pennon of St. George soared to the
Arabella's masthead to disillusion her, the Santo Nino chose the better
part of valour, and struck her flag.

Captain Blood ordered her crew to take to the boats, and land themselves
at Oruba or wherever else they pleased. So considerate was he that to
assist them he presented them with several of the piraguas which he
still had in tow.

"You will find," said he to her captain, "that Don Miguel is in an
extremely bad temper. Commend me to him, and say that I venture to
remind him that he must blame himself for all the ills that have
befallen him. The evil has recoiled upon him which he loosed when
he sent his brother unofficially to make a raid upon the island of
Barbados. Bid him think twice before he lets his devils loose upon an
English settlement again."

With that he dismissed the Captain, who went over the side of the Santo
Nino, and Captain Blood proceeded to investigate the value of this
further prize. When her hatches were removed, a human cargo was
disclosed in her hold.

"Slaves," said Wolverstone, and persisted in that belief cursing Spanish
devilry until Cahusac crawled up out of the dark bowels of the ship, and
stood blinking in the sunlight.

There was more than sunlight to make the Breton pirate blink. And
those that crawled out after him--the remnants of his crew--cursed him
horribly for the pusillanimity which had brought them into the ignominy
of owing their deliverance to those whom they had deserted as lost
beyond hope.

Their sloop had