Death of a Pirate. 269 



hoarse voice asked me for mercy and help ! a death-like 

 silence followed his fall to the ground. I surveyed every 

 object around with eyes intent, and ears imjDressible by 

 the slightest sound, for my situation that moment 1 

 thought as critical as any I had ever been in. The 

 croakings of the frogs, and the last blackbirds alighting 

 on their roosts, were the only sounds or sights ; and I 

 now proceeded towards the object of my mingled alarm 

 and commiseration. 



" Alas ! the poor being who lay prostrate at my feet, 

 was so weakened by loss of blood, that I had nothing to 

 fear from him. My first impulse was to run back to the 

 water, and having clone so, I returned with my cap filled to 

 the brim. 1 felt at his heart, washed his face and breast, 

 and rubbed his temples with the contents of a phial, 

 which I kept about me as an antidote for the bites of 

 snakes. His features, seamed by the ravages of time, 

 looked frightful and disgusting. But he had been a pow- 

 erful man, as the breadth of his breast plainly showed. 

 He groaned in the most appalling manner, as his breath 

 struggled through the mass of blood that seemed to fill 

 his throat. His dress plainly disclosed his occupation — 

 a large pistol he had thrust into his bosom, a naked cut- 

 lass lay near him on the ground, and a silk handkerchief 

 was bound over his projecting brows, and over a pair of 

 loose trousers he wore a fisherman's boots. He was, in 

 short, a Pirate ! 



" My exertions were not in vain, for, as I continued to 

 bathe his temples, he revived, his pulse resumed some 

 strength, and I began to hope that he might perhaps sur- 

 vive the deep wounds which he had received. Darkness, 

 deep darkness, now enveloped us. I spoke of making a fire. 

 'Oh ! for mercy's sake,' he exclaimed, 'don't.' Knowing, 

 however, that under existing circumstances it was expe- 

 dient for me to do so, I left him, went to his boat, and 



