ripple 'em. We don't want to
kill."

He had hardly spoken when the nearest body of the enemy uttered a wild
yell, which was taken up by the others, and all advanced clear of the
bushes at a run, firing wildly and without stopping to re-load, dashing
on, long knife in hand.

But before they had accomplished half the distance, each party was met
by a ragged volley from Don Ramon's men, whose instructions had been
carefully carried out.

This staggered the enemy for the moment, but they came on, leaping over
or avoiding their wounded comrades, and gaining confidence at the
silence within the hacienda, they yelled again. So far not one of the
Englishmen had fired a shot, but now at a word from the skipper, a slow,
steady rifle fire began, with every shot carefully aimed, and seeming to
tell, so that ere they got close up to the walls of the hacienda, nearly
a score had dropped, the skipper having used his rifle and then stood
with the barrel of his revolver resting on the edge of a plank and
picking off man after man.

In the brief space of time occupied by the advance the enemy had had
little time to think, but suddenly the fighting madness died out of one
of the rough-looking bravos as he saw a companion at his side throw up
his arms just in front of one of the windows and fall backwards. That
started the panic, for the man turned with starting eyes, uttered a yell
of dismay, and dashed back.

"Look at that," growled the carpenter. "Just like sheep. One goes for
the gap in the hedge, and all the rest will follow. Ah, you may shout,
old chap--Don whatever your name is. You'll have to holloa louder than
that to stop 'em now."

For the whole of the attacking body was in retreat, racing for the
shelter of the trees in a disorderly crowd whose paces were hastened by
Don Ramon's men, now re-loaded, sending another ragged volley in their
rear.

Their action was very different from that of the schooner's men, who
contented themselves with re-loading and breaking out under the
leadership of Winks into a hearty British cheer, in which Don Ramon's
men now joined.

"Well," said Poole, taking out his pocket-handkerchief and carefully
wiping the lock of his rifle, "what do you think of that?"

"Oh," cried Fitz excitedly, "I wouldn't have missed it for--eh? I don't
know, though," he added, after breaking off short, his eyes having lit
upon the fallen men who were crawling back into shelter. "It is very
horrid, thou