ained. The liquid was deliciously cool, and
of that peculiar acid and slightly bitter flavour that seems so
ineffably refreshing when one is parched with fever.
"Another yet, senor?" asked Pedro, with a laugh, as I handed the glass
back to him.
"Well--n-o--not just now, I think, thank you," answered I. "And now,
Pedro, my boy, tell me about this ship and her captain, and how I came
to be here."
"That is easily done, senor," answered the lad. "In the first place,
the brigantine is named the _Francesca_ after my mother; she hails from
Havana; and is commanded by my father, Don Fernando de Mendouca; and you
were brought here by him, when he found you lying apparently dead upon
the deck of the _Requin_ after your people had been driven off and
compelled to beat a retreat."
"_What_?" I exclaimed. "Driven off? Compelled to retreat?"
"Certainly, senor," the lad answered proudly. "You surely did not
seriously expect to capture all four of us with that paltry schooner of
yours, and so small a force as you brought against us, did you?"
"Well," I admitted, "I must confess that when I saw what we had to
contend with, I had my doubts as to the issue. But then, you see, I was
not the captain."
"Your captain must have been _mad_ to have attacked us in broad
daylight, as he did. And, indeed, he _seemed_ to be mad by the
desperation with which he fought. I never saw anything like it in my
life."
"_You_?" I exclaimed again. "Do you mean to say that you took part in
the fight?"
"Certainly, senor; why not?" demanded Pedro haughtily. "True, I am very
young; but I am strong. And I am bigger than the little officer who was
fighting near you when the French sailor struck you down with the
handspike."
"Yes; that is very true," I agreed, knowing, from the lad's description,
that he was referring to Freddy Pierrepoint. "So you were in the fight,
and saw our captain, eh, Pedro? Can you tell me what became of him?"
"He was shot--by one of our men, I believe; and I think he was killed,
but am not quite sure. He was carried back into his own schooner by two
of his men; and after the fight had lasted about two minutes longer a
very handsome, light-haired officer appeared to take the command, and
seemed to order a retreat; for your men steadily retired to their own
vessel, and, fighting to the very last, cast her adrift, set the sails,
and retired, hotly pursued by the _Requin_."
"Phew!" exclaimed I; "we see
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