Retreating aft,
we again made a stand, though it was evident that, in the end, we must
be overpowered, outnumbered, as we were, three to one.
Still we continued to fight on with no thought of surrender, for we
knew that capture would mean death by walking the plank. Four of the
English on our side were killed, besides seven or eight of those of
other nationalities, whilst many were wounded. The decks were slippery
with blood, and a gathering mist made it impossible to ascertain the
extent of our losses. Captain Bland now placed himself beside me, and
together we held the pirates at bay.
"This can't last, Van Bu," he said, "and I am resolved that my ship
shall not fall into the hands of these scoundrels."
"What can you do?" I answered, without pausing in my defence.
"I'll fire the magazine sooner than let them take her," replied Bland.
"Keep them in check for a while and we'll sink together."
With these words he sprang to the hatchway while I continued to fight
on, expecting every moment to be blown with all hands into eternity.
I had given up hope, and the suspense of awaiting the expected
catastrophe was so acute that I had almost made up my mind to throw
myself overboard and take my chance with the sharks, when two square
sails emerged out of the smoke, and the hull of a man-o'-war, with a
wide spread of canvas, ranged alongside, while a number of English
man-o'-war's men, led by an officer, sprang upon our decks.
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