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Fernando and his troops had gained the neck of land reaching to the promontory, and, fearing that the enemy might have landed a force there, and that they would be drawn into an ambuscade, he halted his troops in a dense growth of wood and left them with Lieutenant Willard, while he, with Sukey, Terrence and Job, crept forward to reconnoitre. They had almost reached the promontory, and, convinced that there was no one in ambush, were about to return to the main force, when suddenly an object presented itself to their eyes, which absolutely rooted them to the spot. At about twenty or thirty yards distant, where but the moment before the long line of horizon terminated the view, there now stood a strange figure, which might be six and might be twelve feet in height.
It had evidently risen up out of the ground and was floating in the air, as there seemed to be nothing to connect it with the earth. There was a body of spotless white, an obscure ma.s.s which might be a head, and two long, white, straight arms, spread apart like a cross. This strange creature was advancing toward them.
"Oh, golly! ma.s.sa, look ye dar! dat am a ghost!" whispered the darkey.
"A banshee, begorra!" said Terrence.
Fernando was impressed that the strange vision was the result of some English trickery, while Sukey, c.o.c.king his gun, declared:
"If it's mortal, I'll soon make it immortal."
"Hold, Sukey!" whispered Fernando, "let us see what it is before you fire."
"Golly! ma.s.sa, it am comin' dis way!"
Fernando could see that the object, with its strange incongruous head, its long arms, of which it now seemed to have three or four, was advancing toward them over the uneven ground; and he gave the order to fall back until they were nearer the troops.
When within about one hundred paces, Fernando made a stand and cried:
"Halt!"
This was the first word uttered loud enough to reach the strange four-armed, one-headed, but legless spectre. It produced a wonderful effect, for the odd figure wheeled about and started off at something like a run. Sukey brought his gun to his shoulder and fired.
The report of the gun was the signal for the riflemen under Lieutenant Willard to charge, and all gave chase to the spectre.
"Don't fire another shot!" cried Fernando. The spectre had not gone a hundred paces, before it stumbled over a loose stone and fell. In a moment, Terrence Malone had seized it and cried:
"Huzzah! boys, I've caught the divil himsilf."
The spectre proved to be a very material like person in the form of a tall sailor with a white jacket and cap and blue trousers. His superabundance of arms could be accounted for by the long, white oar, which he had been carrying on his shoulder, and which he explained was his only weapon, offensive or defensive.
"Where are you from?" asked Fernando.
"I am from his majesty's frigate _Xenophon_," he answered.
"Are you a deserter?" asked Fernando.
"Yes, sir; I am an American by birth, and will die before I raise my hand against my country. To-day, because I refused to work at the guns, I was arrested, to be flogged in the morning, hung or shot at the pleasure of Captain Snipes."
"I believe I know that voice--" began Captain Stevens.
"Holy golly! it am Ma.s.sa St. Mark!" yelled a voice behind them, and Job tore his way through the crowd and, flinging his arms about the sailor, cried: "Ma.s.sa St. Mark! Ma.s.sa St. Mark! am it you?"
"Faith, it's the best gunner in the British navy!" cried Terrence.
Fernando had no trouble in recognizing in the stranger the gentlemanly gunner of the _Macedonian_, who had saved him from being flogged.
Terrence, Fernando, Job and Sukey crowded about the newcomer and for a moment plied him with questions. He explained that, having slipped his handcuffs, he rushed on deck, seized the oar, which he still carried, knocked down two sentries and leaped overboard. They fired a hundred shots at him; but, being an excellent swimmer, and the night being dark, he managed to escape. Lying on his back, holding to the oar, he watched for the flash of their guns and pistols, and, when they fired, ducked his head under the water.
The appearance of Mr. Hugh St. Mark naturally caused another consultation. He discouraged their desperate attempt to carry the s.h.i.+p by the board, and Fernando, after sending six fishermen to the headland to acquaint their companions there with the change, marched with his force back to the fort. An hour later the others came.
When day dawned, the _Xenophon_ renewed her cannonading. Mr. Hugh St.
Mark was given charge of the thirty-two, and after carefully measuring the distance with an experienced eye, he weighed the powder and loaded the gun. Fernando watched the flight of the first ball, which went whizzing over the leeward rail across the deck and out at the opposite port into the sea. The second shot cut some of the rigging. The British supposed those two shots accidents, but after the third, they were convinced that there was an experienced hand at the gun.
Fernando, in his anxiety to mark the effect of the third shot, forgot his promise to Morgianna and, with the gla.s.s in hand, mounted the rampart. The heavy boom of the cannon shook sea and sh.o.r.e. There was no need of a gla.s.s to mark the effects. The ball crashed through from side to side sending the splinters flying in every direction. A wild cheer rose from the fort, and Fernando saw five or six carried below the deck, while one of the guns was dismounted and useless. In a few seconds the great gun was again loaded. This, time the ball crashed through the hull. The fifth shot struck the mizzenmast about four feet above deck, and cut it almost away.
"Victory is ours!" cried Fernando, waving his sword in the air.
"Hurrah for ould Ireland and the United States foriver!" shouted Terrence, leaping on the embankment, and dancing a jig. But the _Xenophon_ had not given up the contest yet. She continued to fire her b.a.l.l.s and sh.e.l.ls with murderous intent until the b.a.l.l.s from St. Mark's direction had cut her mainmast down. It fell over on the lee side dragging with it the fore mainstay and crippling the rigging to such an extent that Captain Snipes began to fear he could not get his vessel out of the harbor. The weight of the mainmast hanging over the side of the vessel was so great that the vessel heeled over to leeward. A dozen carpenters with axes flew to cut away the wreck and the s.h.i.+p righted herself.
While others were rejoicing, Hugh St. Mark was busy sending ball after ball cras.h.i.+ng into the _Xenophon_ as if he had many old scores to settle. Sukey, who stood by his side, said:
"Mr. St. Mark, don't hit the captain--leave him for me."
The wind and tide bore the _Xenophon_ to the mouth of the harbor just beyond the point of Duck Island, where she was temporarily safe from the b.a.l.l.s of the avenging thirty-two.
It soon became evident that the land force under Lieutenant Matson intended to march to the point of land, embark, and return to the s.h.i.+p.
Fernando determined to spoil their plan. He mustered two hundred and fifty of his soldiers, marines and militia and started to head them off.
Lieutenant Willard was left alone in charge of the fort.
A villager who knew a nearer route guided them by it to a pa.s.s between two hills, where the Britons would be compelled to march. Sukey and Terrence were sent forward to reconnoitre, and as they came in sight of the narrow valley surrounded by hills they saw the head of the column of redcoats coming, their banner upheld to the breeze. Terrence wheeling about, ran with all speed back to the advancing soldiers, and cried:
"Come on, me boys! it's a divil's own time we'll have of it in the valley, all to ourselves."
"Halt! fix bayonets!" commanded Fernando. In a moment, the gleaming bayonets were on each gun. "Forward!--Double--Quick!"
The soldiers, at a run, dashed into the valley just as the British appeared, two volleys delivered in quick succession and they were at it steel to steel. Fernando, bareheaded, engaged a stout Briton in a hand-to-hand struggle, which a quick thrust from Sukey's bayonet ended.
Next, Captain Stevens found himself hotly engaged with his old enemy Lieutenant Matson. Their blades flashed angrily for a moment, but as the lieutenant's men threw down their arms and begged for quarters, he realized the folly of resisting longer and yielded. His stubborn pride made the struggle hard. He offered his sword to his victor, which he politely declined.
"Keep your sword, lieutenant," said Fernando. "Though you are my enemy, I trust you have not forgotten that you are a gentleman."
"I trust not."
"You shall be paroled as soon as we reach the fort."
The Britons stacked their arms, and marched in double file under a guard to the fort. Oxen and carts were sent out for the arms and two pieces of artillery which were brought into the fort.
Silent and majestic as an uncrowned prince, seeming neither elated nor depressed by the victory, stood the gunner Hugh St. Mark by the side of the old thirty-two, with which he had fired the shots that saved the fort.
He was tall, straight, broad-shouldered, with hair once chestnut, but now almost gray. His age might be anywhere between forty and fifty years. So calm, majestic and mysterious did he seem, as, with folded arms, he stood gazing unconcernedly about him, that Fernando was constrained to ask himself:
"Who is he?"
CHAPTER XIX.
NEW ORLEANS.