CHAPTER XVIII.

A STRANGE SAIL.

"And there, while thread shall hang to thread, Oh, let our ensign fly! The noblest constellation set Against our northern sky."

The _Caroline_ was one of the best ships in the British merchant service.

She was as strongly built as a man-of-war, and in fact could easily be transformed into a vessel of war.

The Union Jack of England still floated from her peak, and Tempest had deemed it prudent not to lower it until out of sight of the British squadron.

But now that the sun was shining, and no war ship appeared above the horizon, he changed his mind.

"Haul down that flag, boys!" he shouted, and a dozen willing hands were at the halliards.

The flag seemed endowed with life or reason.

For one moment it floated proudly and, as it seemed, defiantly, then fell limp and dejected to the rope, never once fluttering or showing sensibility to the breeze.

It lay on the deck, a prisoner of war, and in its place there gradually arose that ensign of the free--the Stars and Stripes.

The men cheered the rising flag, and Tempest, who was in command of the _Caroline_, addressed the men most eloquently:

"The flag of our nation is committed to your care," he said. "Never let it be lowered by the hands of slaves or of enemies. Let it float there, as long as one arm can hold a cutlass to defend it."

And all the crew responded by giving a hearty cheer.

Tempest repaired to the cabin wherein he had left Bertha Decatur.

She had aroused from her swoon, only to fall into a deep slumber again.

She knew not whether the whole events of the night had been but a dream, for her brain was confused.

She thought of the noise on deck, the shuffling of feet, the clashing of steel, the muttered curses, the cries of the wounded, and then all had become hushed. She had fainted.

Was it a dream, or was it a terrible reality? If so, what would be her fate?

She knew that Captain Carter would use no violence other than forcing her to be his wife, and that she could effectually resist by death.

And she was resolved to die rather than submit to such a life.

Tempest knocked at the cabin door, which he had roughly boarded up after Scarron's foot had done its work so effectually.

But there was no response, and a message that Captain Vernon was coming on board caused him to hasten to the deck.

"The shock of your presence might be too much for her," said Vernon. "Let me prepare Miss Decatur."

The captain of the _Lively Bee_ had only seen Bertha once, and he did not think she would recognize him.

He knocked at the cabin door, and she bade him enter.

She started as she saw a stranger.

"Well, sir?"

"Miss Decatur, I am a stranger to you, but I would like permission to say a few words to you."

"Proceed, sir; only, if you are here to plead his cause, your words will be in vain."

"Whose cause?"

There was a disdainful curve of the beauty's lips as Vernon asked the question.

"Sir! there surely is no need of such assumed ignorance. I am a prisoner----"

"A prisoner--yes, but your captors mean you well."

Vernon misunderstood her meaning.

She smiled.

"Wish me well--ay, perhaps so. The bird taken from the wild freedom of the forest is cared for in its gilded cage, but it prefers freedom, even with all its dangers."

"You are free, Miss Decatur--free as any one under our flag can be."

"Under your flag, sir--yes! But your flag is one which covers traitors and oppressors. Its every fold is dyed in the blood of true patriots who have fought against it."

"You do not know----" interrupted Vernon.

"Do I not? Have I not a brother who maimed himself for life rather than fight under your flag?"

"You are wrong. The Stars and Stripes float from the peak of this ship."

"Since when?" she asked, contemptuously, and, before he could answer: "Since when have you learned to lie and cheat for your captain's sake?"

"I am captain."

Bertha turned her back on the captain for a moment. She was trying to quell the anger rising in her breast, for she fully believed that Vernon had been sent as an emissary from Carter.

"I have already given my answer to the captain," she said. "Now leave me to my misery."

"What is the captain's name?" asked Vernon.

"Carter; if you insist on your catechetical insults."

"He is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes; do you not know that this ship was captured by the Americans, and is now on her way to the nearest port?"

"Are you speaking the truth?"

"As Heaven is my judge! Come on deck and you will see the Stars and Stripes floating from the peak."

"If what you say is true, who are you?"

"I am Harry Vernon of the _Lively Bee_, privateer, and this vessel is under the command of my first officer----"

"Oh!"

"You have met him before. He knows your brother well."

"Does he?"

Bertha was still incredulous, and Vernon was more than ever puzzled what to do with her.

She saw that he hesitated, and all her doubts returned.

"When shall we reach port?" she asked.

"Within twenty hours, if the winds are favorable."

"And how long would it take to reach Jamaica?"

"Forty-eight hours, or even more."

"Thank you."

"Miss Decatur, I see you do not trust me. I will send for one who may perhaps have more influence with you than I have."

"If you do I shall kill myself," she exclaimed angrily.

"Shall you? We shall see."

He hastily wrote a line on a slip of paper and gave it to a deckhand to deliver.

"I have sent for him," said Vernon.

"He will not see me alive."

Vernon saw she was desperate, and to prevent her carrying out her threat he seized her hands.

"Unhand me! I am your prisoner, but I am a woman. Let me die, for death would be better than a life such as he proposes."

"Don't be stupid, Miss Decatur, the man I sent for is John Tempest----"

"It is false!"

But as she uttered the words Tempest entered the cabin.

"Bertha!"

"John! What does it all mean?"

Tempest had heard the last words uttered by Bertha, and he was trembling violently.

"Do you hate me so much?" he asked.

"Hate you? No, I spoke of Captain Carter----"

"Of this ship?"

"Yes."

"What was he to you?"

"How can you ask? Do you not know that he visited my home and professed to love me--that when I told him I was engaged to another he declared I should never marry any one but himself? My brother ordered him to leave the house, and then, late that night, two men overtook me as I was returning home; they gagged me and carried me to a boat, from which I was taken to this ship, which was in the offing."

"I thank Heaven I killed that captain! My friend, here, is captain of the _Lively Bee_, privateer, and he has captured this vessel----"

"No, no, Tempest. I did nothing of the kind. You made the capture, for you led the assault, and you ran up the Stars and Stripes."

"Let me see it," said Bertha, still almost doubting.

She walked up the companionway and stood on the deck, the first time in nearly a month.

When her eyes looked upward and saw the American flag proudly floating from the mast, she fell on her knees, and in a loud voice thanked Heaven for her deliverance.

But her strength was overtaxed, and she fell back on the deck in a fainting condition.

Tenderly Tempest carried her below and placed her on the cabin lounge.

How he wished that there had been another woman on board to attend to her wants; but wishes would not bring one, and so he had to enact the _rôle_ of nurse.

Mr. Scarron found three guns on board the _Caroline_, but very little ammunition.

"Ask Captain Vernon to give you a few charges," said Tempest, "for we may have to defend ourselves before we reach port. And tell Captain Vernon that I shall not desert the _Caroline_ while there is the least chance of saving her."

The day wore on apace, and all had good hopes that by the morrow's morn an American port would be entered.

But the sun was just setting, its golden rays were dancing on the green waters of the Atlantic, when Mr. Scarron rushed unceremoniously into the cabin where Tempest sat holding Bertha's hand in his own, and praying for her return to consciousness.

"A sail! A strange sail, sir, and I believe she flies the British flag. If so, she is armed. Come on deck, Mr. Tempest, for, blow me, but I think we are in for a fight!"

The words fell so fast from Mr. Scarron's lips that he was scarcely distinct, but Tempest's face paled, not with fear for himself, but a precious life was now at stake, and he feared everything for her sake.

Scarron reached the deck in a couple of bounds, and again shouted:

"We are signaled to lay to, sir. What shall we do?"