“In twenty minutes, we strike!” cried Miguel.  “Ah, how the wind rise!  Many a year since I see such a storm!”

Spars snapped and were carried away in the foaming sea.  Then the mast went, and the crew began to launch the boats.  Robert rushed to the captain’s cabin.  When he served the man there he had not failed to observe what the room contained, and now he snatched from the wall a huge greatcoat, a belt containing a brace of pistols in a holster with ammunition, and a small sword.  He did not know why he took the sword, but it was probably some trick of the fancy and he buckled it on with the rest.  Then he returned to the deck, where he could barely hold his footing, the schooner had heeled so far over, and so powerful was the wind and the driving of the spray.  One of the boats had been launched under the command of the second mate, but she was overturned almost instantly, and all on board her were lost.  Robert was just in time to see a head bob once or twice on the surface of the sea, and then disappear.

A second boat commanded by the first mate was lowered and seven or eight men managed to get into it, rowing with all their might toward an opening that appeared in the white line of foam.  A third which could take the remainder of the crew was made ready and the captain himself would be in charge of it.

It was launched successfully and the men dropped into it, one by one, but very fast.  Miguel swung down and into a place.  Robert advanced for the same purpose, but the captain, who was still poised on the rail of the ship, took notice of him for the first time.

“No!  No, Peter!” he shouted, and even in the roar of the wind Robert observed the grim humor in his voice.  “You’ve been a good and faithful sailorman, and we leave you in charge of the ship!  It’s a great promotion and honor for you, Peter, but you deserve it!  Handle her well because she’s a good schooner and answers kindly to a kind hand!  Now, farewell, Peter, and a long and happy voyage to you!”

A leveled pistol enforced his command to stop, and the next moment he slid down a rope and into the boat.  A sailor cut the rope and they pulled quickly away, leaving Robert alone on the schooner.  His exultation turned to despair for a moment, and then his courage came back.  Tayoga in his place would not give up.  He would pray to his Manitou, who was Robert’s God, and put complete faith in His wisdom and mercy.  Moreover, he was quit of all that hateful crew.  The ship of the slavers was beneath his feet, but the slavers themselves were gone.

As he looked, he saw the second boat overturn, and he thought he heard the wild cry of those about to be lost, but he felt neither pity nor sympathy.  A stern God, stern to such as they, had called them to account.  The captain’s boat had disappeared in the mist and spray.