“There is your prey!  Spring upon it, and be quick, for they will fight like mad, and he will lay a dozen of you by the heels before you take the ‘Sea Witch!’” said Maud.

Captain Bramble rushed forward to the attack, followed by his men, and was soon on the deck of the vessel; but though he took Mr. Faulkner and his crew by surprise, he did not find them entirely unprepared, and after dropping eight of his people upon the slaver’s deck, and being himself, severely wounded in the arm, Captain Bramble thought it best to beat a retreat, at least for a few moments, and so sought again the shelter of the jungle.

The conflict, which was very brief, was also a very sanguinary, and five of the slaver’s people had been either mortally wounded or killed outright; but from the habit of constantly wearing their arms, even to pistols, when on the coast, they had been found in a very good situation at even the shortest notice for defending themselves.  Captain Bramble now saw evident tokens of a purpose to unmoor the vessel, and let her drift out into the river, which would at once place her beyond his reach, as he had no boats within a league of the spot; and therefore he resolved upon a second onslaught, and this time divided his men into three parts—­one to board at the bows, one at the stern, and himself leading a dozen picked men at the waist.

This division of his forces was the best manouvre he could possibly make, and succeeded admirably, since his own people outnumbered the slavers, and by dividing them he strengthened his own power and weakened theirs.  Once more upon their deck, the hand-to-hand battle was short, bloody and decisive, until towards its close, Captain Bramble found himself driven into the forecastle with a number of his followers, and at the same moment saw the mate of the “Sea Witch,” with those of his people that were left alive hastening to embark in a quarterboat, and pull away from the vessel’s side with great speed.

A sort of instinct explained to him the meaning of this, and hurrying his people on shore with the wounded, they sought the shelter of the jungle once more.  Scarcely had they gained the shade of the thick undergrowth, when a report like that of a score of cannons rang upon the night air, and high in the air soared a body of flame and wreck in terrific confusion.  The slavers had placed a slow match in connection with the magazine, and had blown in one instant of time that entire and beautiful fabric into ten thousand atoms!

Even Maud, with all her hatred and passion, quailed at the shock, and trembled as she crouched to the ground with averted face.  She realized the result of her treachery, but looked in vain for the object on whom she had hoped to reck the strength of her indignation and her hate.  Where was he?  This was a question that Captain Bramble had several times asked; but in vain, until now, when suddenly there appeared before their eves, hastening towards the scene, Captain Will Ratlin.