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Updated: June 23, 2025
Two of them instantly noticed the suspicious craft and, believing it to be a smuggler, gave chase. Barthelemy lured them too far from the shore for the battle to be seen, then, after a short conflict, conquered both, sank one and, keeping the other, manned it with part of his crew under the command of Skyrme, and called it the Fox-Hound.
Scudamore gleefully beheaded the squawking fowl, each one of which the Bristol captain seemed to mourn, and when he had dispatched the last, he suddenly seized the sighing sailor by the hair, put his knife to his throat, and would have sent him after the birds, had not Skyrme dealt him such a blow that he fell headlong. "I supposed these were to follow!" said the doctor with a fiendish laugh.
"Let them come," said Barthelemy, sweeping the sea with his glass, and soon discovered on the horizon the two ships which, at that distance, resembled sea-gulls. "Those are not men-of-war," cried Barthelemy, "they look more like pirates, and are coming toward us with every inch of canvas spread. They will fare badly." "Ha! ha!" laughed Skyrme, "that's all we lack.
Skyrme alone had retained his presence of mind. "Forward, you knaves!" he roared furiously, "what are you staring at? Up with the flag again, and throw your grappling irons." The pirates quickly hauled up the flag, and Skyrme's stentorian voice shouted: "Forward!" A second volley thundered down upon them from the British cannon.
The Swallow merely sailed far enough out to sea to lure the Fox-Hound to a point where the cannonading could not be heard on land, and then allowed herself to be overtaken. Suddenly the pirates, with loud shouts, ran up the black flag and dashed with the speed of an arrow toward the Swallow. Skyrme stood in the bow, holding his grappling iron ready. "Barthelemy and death!" roared the whole band.
The pirates, amid rude laughter, pushed before Barthelemy a tall, fair man, who, with his hands thrust into his pockets, eyed the new captain scornfully from head to foot. "Speak fair, noble lord!" said Skyrme, raising his sinewy hand, threateningly above Simpson's head, "or you'll bite your own tongue."
"I heard some one shout 'No." "Who was it?" roared the athlete; "does any one want to jest with death?" "Don't rage, Skyrme, don't rage, my brave giant. Speech is free. Come forward, Lord Simpson, you oppose my election. Step forward, my valiant nobleman, and tell us your objection to me!"
"Throw the flag into the water that it may not fall into the hands of the enemy!" gasped Skyrme, only half of whose gigantic body remained. "Go to the powder room and fire among the kegs!" Five pirates, with loaded pistols, instantly leaped below, and at the end of a minute, with a roar like thunder, a cloud of smoke rose into the air; otherwise there was no harm done.
"Oh, gentlemen, don't leave me in this man's power, he will have no mercy on me. He is a horrible villain." "Ha! ha! ha!" cried Skyrme. "Don't spoil this joke, captain. When you set the commander of the brigantine free, let him take this fellow with him; what a fine lot of talk there will be when they call him to account at home for the service he has rendered us." "Gentlemen!
What had you to defend in this ship?" "My honor," replied Rolls proudly. "Which, when we have taken it from you, will be of no use to us," said the giant Skyrme, laughing. "What do you say to that, Moody?" The man addressed was a sullen, taciturn fellow, who was sitting on the bulwark, holding a short pipe between his teeth.
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