Part 7

James Hamilton, old Willie Duncan's present master, had made a large fortune in the West India trade, and was proprietor of a valuable estate in Jamaica. For a series of years, so rapidly had he amassed wealth, that he seemed to be a peculiar favourite of Fortune; but Fortune has ever been a capricious dame, and those who are apparently highest in her good graces, are often made to feel how uncertain is the tenure by which they hold them. She seems, like some of the savages of the western world, to pamper her victims with the good things of this life, only to make them feel more keenly the reverses she is preparing for them. James Hamilton was one of those men, unfortunately too rare, who do not allow themselves to be dazzled by the flattering appearances of present prosperity, but who, aware of the changeable and fleeting nature of all earthly possessions, hold on the even tenor of their course, with minds prepared for every vicissitude. He always acted upon high and pure principle, and never, in the height of prosperity, forgot that the same Supreme Benefactor, who in his bounty had blessed him with abundance, might, in his wisdom, think fit to try him with adversity. He was a kind-hearted and liberal man, but withal cool, quiet, and methodical in his manners and actions. Heedless of the opinion of the world, he acted up to the dictates of his own conscientious feelings of right and wrong; and his strict notions of evenhanded justice often led him to enter into engagements, and to perform actions, which, though perfectly just and rigidly honest, bore, in the eyes of a misjudging world, the impress of calculating selfishness and niggardly illiberality. But, notwithstanding, there was such straightforward honesty, such child-like, confiding simplicity, and such pure and unpretending Christianity, evident in his character, that it was impossible for those who knew him well not to esteem and love him. His principal failing was one which "leaned to virtue's side." Upright, and honourable, and candid, he thought all others like himself, and was often the dupe of designing and crafty men; who, with more worldly wisdom, were far his inferiors in judgment, and sound, practical sense; but who practised upon his confiding nature by the semblance of qualities which they did not possess. He had long been blessed with the companionship of an amiable and excellent wife; and, when she was snatched from him by a sudden and virulent disorder, he could ill have borne his bereavement, had he not been supported by the conviction that she was only removed to a purer and happier state of existence; and he bowed with submission to the decrees of that Being who "doeth all things wisely." His only son, John, who had been an object of most tender solicitude to both his parents, had been educated with the greatest care; and, though apparently born the heir to great wealth, had undergone a regular probation in a mercantile house in the city, of which he hoped soon to become a partner. Many of the elder Hamilton's friends had expressed their surprise at his choice of a profession for his son, and wondered that, rolling in wealth, as he was supposed to be, he should condemn his heir to the drudgery of a counting-house: but events proved that he had acted wisely and well. The sudden and totally unexpected failure of a large West India house with which he was connected, and to support which he had advanced considerable sums, gave the first shock to his credit; and, as is often the case, reverse followed reverse afterwards, until utter ruin seemed to be inevitable. Undazzled by prosperity, Hamilton proved himself to be equally unshaken by adversity. His character as a mercantile man stood so high for unimpeachable integrity and indefatigable industry, that he might have made head for some years longer against the stream of adverse circumstances, and might, perhaps, eventually have overcome them; but the plain path of duty was the one he had followed through life, and he did not desert it now. He immediately wound up his affairs, and, having settled with his creditors to the uttermost farthing, he found himself almost destitute, with the exception of his personal property, and the West India estate; which, however, had for some years barely paid its own expenses. It was now that Hamilton had reason to rejoice that his beloved son had, by his wise foresight, been rendered independent of circumstances, and had been bred up in habits which would enable him soon to acquire a comfortable establishment for himself. He immediately sold his house and furniture, and retired to a humble lodging in the city, where, with patient and laudable energy, he exerted himself to recover the ground he had lost. Sudden and unexpected as his reverses had been, he never murmured at the hardship of his lot, convinced that all the dispensations of Providence are wisely and mercifully ordered, and happy in the consciousness that he had nothing to reproach himself with, as far as concerned his dealing with his fellow-men. About this time, his son John was sent out to Jamaica, on some mercantile speculation, by the house with which he was connected, and obtained permission to remain some time on the island, to inquire into the management of his father's plantation; and, if necessary and possible, to effect its sale. He was about twenty-four years of age; tall, and handsome in his appearance, and a youth of excellent dispositions and steady principles. By his persevering and conscientious attention to his duties, he had gained the confidence and esteem of his employers, and had acquired the character of an active and clever man of business. He had long been a secret admirer of Ellen Winterton, the orphan child of an officer in the army, and who was living under the guardianship of the head of his firm. Accustomed, however, always to keep his feelings under control, and to regulate his desires by the rules of honour and of prudence, young Hamilton did not think himself justified in making his proposals in form, until fortune should have enabled him to do so as an independent man. The change in his father's circumstances, while it called for fresh exertions on his part, seemed to separate him still more widely from the object of his wishes; but he bore his prolonged probation with cheerfulness, and his grief at parting with Ellen was almost neutralised by the animating prospect of serving his beloved father. After an absence of some months, during which he had written home several times, a letter was received from him, announcing his having left Kingston harbour, in the fast-sailing, well-armed merchant-ship, the Delight, and expressing his hope soon to join his father again. Fortune, in the meanwhile, had smiled again upon the elder Hamilton, in a way he little expected. He was surprised one evening by the receipt of a note from a gentleman, whose signature was unknown to him, and who requested a personal interview with him next morning, at a neighbouring coffee-house. Thither he repaired accordingly, wondering what could be the nature of the communication the stranger wished to make to him.

"Mr Hamilton, I believe?" said a gentleman, dressed in deep mourning, to whom the waiter pointed him out, as he entered the room. "I know you well by name and character, Mr Hamilton, though I have not the happiness of your personal acquaintance, and I am happy to be the bearer of pleasing intelligence to you. I am one of the executors of Mr Murray of Greenha', who died childless, and, in consequence of the demise of his near relations, has made you his heir; and I have to congratulate you upon your accession to a valuable landed property and a handsome fortune."

Mr Hamilton was not a little surprised at this announcement. Murray of Greenha' was a distant relation of his late father; but the families had had no communication for several years, and he had almost forgotten that such a person was in existence. This unexpected revolution, by which he was again restored from poverty to wealth and comfort, excited his warmest feelings of gratitude and thankfulness towards that Being in whom he had always trusted with unwavering confidence. He immediately set off to the north, to visit his newly-acquired property, and to carry into effect the provisions of his benefactor's will. Among other duties devolved upon him, was that of providing for our friend Willie Duncan, whose upright, manly character, and grateful attachment to his late master, gave him strong claims upon the good-will and respect of his successor. He had been some time in the north when he heard of his son's having left Jamaica; but months instead of weeks had elapsed, and still no further accounts had been received of him, and he began to be seriously alarmed on his account. His agent in town, in reply to his anxious inquiries, informed him that the Delight was known to have left Kingston harbour at the time specified, but that she had not since been heard of; and, as she was so very much beyond her expected time, and several ships had arrived in England, which had only just reached the harbour when she left it, there was now little doubt of her loss. This was sad news to the elder Hamilton, and it required the exercise of all his Christian fortitude to enable him to bear up under the heavy dispensation. He had gained unexpected wealth; but he for whom he prized it had been snatched from him. One afternoon, shortly after the return of the sailor, Tom Duncan, Mr Hamilton was sauntering, in a melancholy mood, along the high road near Greenha', and was scarcely aroused from his abstraction by the rattling of a post-chariot, which was almost upon him before he was aware of its approach.--"Stop!--stop!" said a voice from the inside. The door was dashed open, and in a moment the bewildered father was in the arms of his long-lost son. It was some time before either of them could speak. At last, the father sobbed out--

"My dear, dear son! I thought you were torn from me for ever! Heaven be praised for all its mercies! I shall now die happy. But how have I been so cruelly deceived? They told me you were lost, and my heart was almost broken. But come, come away to the house, and, after you have refreshed yourself, you can gratify my curiosity." On entering the house, John congratulated his father most affectionately on the change that had taken place in his affairs. "I am glad of it on your account, John; for myself, I care not. I was as happy with my crust and cheese, and with my consciousness that I was doing my duty, as I am now--rich beyond my fondest hopes. Yes, John, I thank Heaven, for myself, that I am blessed with a contented spirit; and, for _you_, that, when I die, you will be amply provided for." As soon as John had done ample justice to the substantial lunch placed before him, his father said to him, "If you are not much fatigued, we will take a stroll, and, while I am showing you the lions, you can be telling me your adventures."

"With all my heart," replied he.

"When we left Kingston harbour in the Delight, we were all in high glee, in the anticipation of a speedy and pleasant voyage. Our ship was one of the fastest of her class, well armed, and manned with an active and spirited crew; so that, to all human appearance, we had little to dread, either from man or the elements. We had scarcely lost sight of the land, when the wind died away to a dead calm, and the sea became as smooth and clear as a mirror, glancing back the reflection of a bright and cloudless moon. The sails flapped heavily against the masts, as the ship rolled helpless and unmanageable in the long swell, and the water dripped from her channels, as she rose again, after dipping them deep into the sea. All at once a small, dark cloud appeared on the larboard beam.

"'Oh, it's nothing,' said the mate.

"Not so thought the captain, who fortunately came upon deck at the time.

"'All hands shorten sail!' shouted he. 'Bear a hand! Up foresail!--in royals and topgallantsails! Brace the yards round to port! Stand by topsail--haulyards and sheets!'

"These orders were barely carried into effect, when a sudden and tremendous squall struck the ship. The small sails were clued up, and the topsailyards on the caps; but the gallant little bark staggered under the shock, lay over till her gunwale almost touched the water, struggled for a moment, and then rose again. The squall had overtaken them with lightning-like rapidity, and was gone again almost as quickly. A few moments before, and a neater and snugger ship never swam the water--now, she was almost a wreck aloft. The foretopmast was hanging over the side, the jib-boom gone, the maintop-gallant-mast snapped short above the step, and the maintopsail in tatters. All this desolation had been the work of a moment; the demon of the storm had passed, and all was again calm.

"'Thank Heaven it's no worse!' said the captain. 'Two minutes sooner, and we should all have been lost! Better lose a few sticks than the ship herself. But this will be a warning to you, Mr Rogers,' said he to the mate, 'not to be foolhardy for the future.'

"All hands were immediately set to work to clear away the wreck of the spars, and were busily employed all night. It was late in the forenoon before the wreck of the foretopmast was launched clear of the ship, and a new maintopsail bent. During this interval, a light breeze had sprung up, and a strange sail hove in sight to windward. The captain mounted the rigging, and got his glass to bear upon her, and, after a long and anxious look, paced the quarterdeck with hurried and irregular steps, glancing uneasily aloft, and hailing the men to bear a hand with their mast-ropes.

"'Rogers,' said he to the mate, at the same time handing him the glass, 'take a look at that craft, and tell me what you think of her.'

"The mate looked long and carefully at her, and, returning the glass to his superior, looked doubtingly and inquiringly in his face, and shook his head--

"'I don't like the look of her at all, sir.'

"'Nor I, Rogers; however, we'll say nothing about her just now. If the air continues so light, it will take her some time to reach us, and we must make good use of the opportunity. Hurry the men with the topmast. Heaven send us a cloudy night! As soon as it is dark, we'll alter our course.'

"By dint of hard work, and a suspicion among the crew that the stranger was an unpleasant neighbour, we were all ataunto, as the sailors call it, before midnight, and were standing away before the light breeze. At daylight, the captain's glass swept the horizon, and soon rested upon the object of his search. A long and steady gaze seemed to confirm both him and the mate in their first suspicion. The vessel, now considerably nearer us, had been evidently watching our motions, and was as evidently in pursuit of us. She was a long, low, rakish-looking brig, creeping along before the faint breeze, and aiding its efforts with her sweeps.

"'It's the Dare-Devil, sir!' said the mate, his cheek paling as he spoke; 'I know her now by the black fiddlehead, and her mast-heads black. A bloodier pirate never swam. The Lord have mercy upon us, for _he_ won't!'

"'Call the hands aft!' said the captain.

"The men assembled on the quarterdeck in stern silence. They seemed to anticipate what was to follow; but it was evident theirs was not the quietness of fear, but of determination.

"'My lads,' said the captain, 'that stranger, we have every reason to believe, is a pirate. If there had been anything of a breeze, we might have escaped; but now, our only chance is to show her what mettle we're made of. You will have to fight for your lives; for so soon as they set foot on this deck, they will murder every soul on board. What say you, my lads? Will you die like dogs, or fighting like brave men?'

"A simultaneous cheer from the crew was the only reply, and they were immediately dismissed to prepare for the impending conflict.

"'Ah, there she shows her teeth at last,' said the captain, as a puff of smoke burst from the brig, followed by the flash and report of a gun, the ball from which struck the water some distance from us.

"'It is of no use our attempting to escape, Rogers!' said the captain; 'he is gaining upon us fast. We will not fire a gun till he is close aboard of us, and till every shot will tell.'

"The guns were all loaded with grape, the fire-arms placed in readiness on deck, and the men ordered to lie down at their quarters, and not to fire a shot till the order was given. Meantime, the pirate rapidly approached, and her shot began to tell upon our rigging and sails. The Delight kept steadily on her course; but her yards, which had been nearly square, were drawn quietly forward, one by one, to port. The pirate was sweeping up at some little distance on our quarter, and had hailed us to heave to directly, or she would sink us. 'Now, my lads,' said our captain, 'be cool and steady. I'm going to cross his hawse: as soon as the guns bear upon him, blaze away.'

"The helm was put a-starboard, and, as we crossed the bows, we poured our grape into him. The fire was not such a _raking_ one as we expected; for he was too quick for us, and sheered to port almost as soon as ourselves; but it was evident that we had almost sickened him, for he widened his distance, and before night was almost hull-down to windward of us.

"'I hope we have got rid of our troublesome customer, sir,' said Rogers to the captain.

"'Don't halloo till you're through the wood,' replied he; 'we haven't done with him yet, I'm afraid. I'm much mistaken if he is not trying to play a game at humbug with us; as soon as it is dark, he will edge down upon us, and endeavour to take us by surprise. We will keep the men at quarters all night, and haul close to the wind, on the starboard tack, when darkness comes on.'

"At nightfall strict orders were given that all the lights should be put out, except that in the binnacle; and the ship's course was altered. We were in great hopes that by these means we should elude the pursuit of the pirate; for, though the breeze was still light, the night was dark and cloudy, and the mate, after sweeping the horizon with his night-glass, said, in a joyous tone, to the captain--

"'I think we have outwitted him, sir; I see no signs of him now.'

"'Let _me_ look,' said the captain. 'Holloa! What is that dark body to the northward? That infernal brig, I'll be bound. How could he have seen us?'

"As he spoke, his eye glanced aloft, and there, to his great surprise, was a light shining at the mizentop-gallantmasthead!

"'What light is that?' shouted he; 'who has dared to disobey the orders? Jump up there, one of you boys, and douse it. Rogers, there's a traitor on board.'

"'Then Jose is the man, sir!'

"The Delight had lost a few hands in harbour, by fever; and, a few days before she sailed, a Portuguese seaman had been shipped to supply the place of one of them. He was an active, able-bodied fellow, and produced excellent certificates from former ships; but there was something extremely forbidding and repulsive in his countenance, and the mate was very unwilling to obey Captain Forbes's order to receive him on board. He was a man of few words; but his eyes were constantly wandering, with a furtive glance, round the ship; and, when he did speak, it was generally to express his fear of pirates, and to inquire into the means of defence of the Delight. On the evening before the ship sailed, he went on shore as one of the boat's crew, but did not make his appearance again till next morning. For this breach of duty he made some plausible excuse, which was unfortunately accepted. It was afterwards proved that he was one of the crew of the pirate, and had been employed to gain all the information in his power, as to our guns, time of sailing, &c., and to make private signals, if necessary.

"The brig kept hovering about till daylight, and then bore down upon us, and, when within range, fired a shot across our bows, to make us heave to. To this salutation no answer was returned, but we stood steadily on, as before, reserving our fire for closer quarters. Shot after shot was dropped into us, but still not a hand was moved on board. At last the pirate came within hail, and swore with the most horrid oaths that he would sink us, if we did not immediately heave to.

"'Now, my lads, stand by!' The men were on their feet in a moment. 'Starboard a little! Fire!' Again our grape rattled into her, and we could judge, by the bustle on her decks, and by the loud cries and execrations that reached our ears, that our fire had been a destructive one. Two of our men were killed by his discharge, and our boat amidships smashed to pieces; but he again sheered off, and, shaking his sails in the wind, dropped slowly astern. Again our hopes revived, but only to be miserably disappointed. When he was beyond the range of our short carronades, he kept dropping shot after shot into us, with deadly precision from his long gun.

"'Rogers,' said the captain, 'if this game lasts long, it is all up with us; unless the breeze freshens, we shall all be murdered like so many sheep.'

"In vain did we endeavour to come to closer quarters with him; as we shortened sail, so did he. Our guns were useless, while--crash--crash--crash--followed each remorseless shot from his long twelve. The breeze, instead of freshening, gradually died away to a calm, and we lay entirely at his mercy, for he kept sweeping round us, and, unhurt himself, inflicted deadly injuries upon us. At last, we lay a complete wreck upon the water; our gallant captain was killed, and fifteen of the men either dead or desperately wounded, and the gallant, but exhausted remnant of the crew were persuaded by the mate to consent to surrender. Our colours were accordingly hauled down; yet the pirate for some time paid no attention to this mark of submission on our part, but seemed determined to gratify his thirst for slaughter, by putting his threat of sinking us into execution. At last he ceased firing, and, sweeping up on our quarter, hailed to order the captain of the Delight on board.

"'Our captain is killed, and we have not a boat left that can swim.'