when antonio zeppa recovered consciousness, he found himself lying on a mattress in the schooner’s hold, bound, bleeding, and with a dull and dreadful sense of pain at his breast, which at first he could not account for. ere long the sudden plash of a wave on the vessel’s side recalled his mind to his bereavement; and a cry—loud, long, and terrible—arose from the vessel’s hold, which caused even the stoutest and most reckless heart on board to quail.

richard rosco—now a pirate captain—heard it as he sat alone in his cabin, his elbows resting on the table, and his white face buried in his hands. he did not repent—he could not repent; at least so he said to himself while the fires kindled by a first great crime consumed him.

men do not reach the profoundest depths of wickedness at one bound. the descent is always graduated—for there are successive rounds to the ladder of sin—but it is sometimes awfully sudden. when young rosco left england he had committed only deeds which men are apt lightly to name the “follies” of youth. these follies, however, had proved to be terrible leaks through which streams of corruption had flowed in upon his soul. still, he had no thought of becoming a reckless or heartless man, and would have laughed to scorn any one who should have hinted that he would ever become an outlaw and a pirate. but oppression bore heavily on his hasty, ill-disciplined temper, and now the lowest round of the ladder had been reached.

even in this extremity he did not utterly give way. he would not become an out-and-out pirate. he would merely go forth as a plunderer to revenge himself on the world which had used him so ill. he would rob—but he would not kill; except of course in self-defence, or when men refused to give up what he demanded. he would temper retributive justice with mercy, and would not suffer injury to women or children. in short, he would become a semi-honourable, high-minded sort of pirate, pursuing wealth without bloodshed! true, in the sad case of poor orlando, he had not managed to steer clear of murder; but then that deed was done without his orders or knowledge. if his comrades in crime had agreed, he would have preferred some sort of smuggling career; but they would not listen to that, so he had at last consented to hoist the black flag.

while the wretched youth was endeavouring to delude himself and gather crumbs of comfort from such thoughts as these, the awful cry from the ship’s hold again rang out, and as his thoughts reverted to the bereaved father, and the fair, light-hearted little mother on ratinga island, the deadly pallor that overspread his countenance was intensified.

rising hastily—with what intent he himself hardly knew—he proceeded to the hold. it was broad day at the time, and sufficient light penetrated the place to reveal the figure of antonio zeppa crouching on his mattress, with his chin upon his knees, his handsome face disfigured with the blood that had dried upon it, and a wild, fierce light gleaming in his eyes.

he did not speak or move when rosco entered and sat down on the head of a cask near him.

“zeppa,” he said, with intense earnestness, “as god shall be my judge, i did not mean to—to—throw—to do this to your boy. it was done without my knowledge.”

“hah!” burst from the stricken father; but nothing more, while he continued to gaze in the pirate captain’s face.

“indeed it is true,” continued rosco hurriedly. “i had no intention of letting murder be done. i would not even slay the captain who has used me so ill. i would give my life if i could alter it now—but i cannot.”

“hah!” gasped zeppa again, still keeping his eyes fixed on rosco’s face.

“don’t look at me that way,” pleaded the pirate, “as if i had done the deed. you know i didn’t. i swear i didn’t! if i had been there, i would have saved orlando at the cost of—”

he was interrupted at this point by the repetition of the cry which had before reached him in the cabin; but how much more awful did that despairing cry sound near at hand, as it issued full, deep-toned, and strong, from the chest of the herculean man! there was a difference in it also this time—it terminated in a wild, fiendish fit of laughter, which caused rosco to shrink back appalled; for now he knew that he confronted a maniac!

for some minutes the madman and the pirate sat gazing at each other in silent horror. then the latter rose hastily and turned to leave the hold. as he did so, the madman sprang towards him, but he was checked by the chains which bound him, and fell heavily on the deck.

returning to the cabin, rosco went to a locker and took out a case bottle, from which he poured half a tumbler of brandy and drank it. then he summoned the man who had been appointed his second in command.

“redford,” he said, assuming, by a mighty effort of self-restraint a calm tone and manner, “you told me once of a solitary island lying a long way to the south of the fiji group. d’you think you could lay our course for it?”

“i’m sure i could, sir; but it is very much out of the way of commerce, and—”

“there is much sandal-wood on it, is there not?” asked rosco, interrupting him.

“ay, sir, plenty of that, an’ plenty of fierce natives too, who will give us a warm reception. i would—”

“so much the better,” returned the captain, with a cynical smile, again interrupting; “we may be able to obtain a load of valuable wood for nothing, and get rid of our cowards at the same time. go, lay our course for—what’s the island’s name?”

“i don’t know its right name, sir; but we call it sugar-loaf island from the shape of one end of it.”

“that will do. and hark ye, friend, when i give orders or ask questions in future, don’t venture to offer advice or raise objections. let the crew understand that we must be able to pass for lawful traders, and that a load of sandal-wood will answer our purpose well enough. it will be your wisdom, also, to bear in mind that discipline is as useful on board a free rover as on board a man-of-war, and that there is only one way to maintain it.”

the pirate captain pointed to a brace of pistols that lay on the table beside him, and said, “go.”

redford went, without uttering another word. his was one of those coarse natures which are ever ready to presume and take advantage when there is laxity in discipline, but which are not difficult to subdue by a superior will. he forthwith spread the report that the new captain was a “stiff un,” a fact which nearly all the men were rather glad than otherwise to hear.

for some days after leaving ratinga a stiff breeze enabled the schooner—which had been re-named by its crew the “free rover”—to proceed southward rapidly. then a profound calm succeeded, and for a couple of days the vessel lay almost motionless on the sea.

during all this time the poor maniac in her hold lay upon his blood-stained couch, for no one dared—at least no one cared—to approach him. at meal times the cook pushed a plate of food within his reach. he usually took no notice of this until, hunger constrained him to devour a little, almost savagely. no word would he speak, but moaned continually without intermission, save when, in a burst of uncontrollable anguish, he gave vent to the terrible cry which so weighed on the spirits of the men, that they suggested to each other the propriety of throwing the father overboard after the son. redford’s report of his interview with the captain, however, prevented the suggestion being acted on.

it is possible that the two tremendous blows which zeppa had received during the mutiny may have had something to do with his madness; but there can be no doubt that the intense mutual affection which had subsisted between him and his only child, and the sudden and awful manner of that child’s end, were of themselves sufficient to account for it.

for orlando had been all that a father could wish; loving, gentle, tender, yet lion-like and courageous in action, with a powerful frame like that of his father, and a modest, cheerful spirit like that of his mother. no wonder that both parents doted on him as their noblest terrestrial gift from god.

“and now,” thought the crushed man, as he crouched on his mattress in the hold, “he is gone,—snatched away before my eyes, suddenly and for ever!”

it was when this thought recurred, again and again, that the cry of agony burst from him, but it was invariably succeeded by the thought, “no, not for ever. orlando is with the lord. we shall see him again, marie and i, when we reach the better land.”

and then zeppa would laugh lightly, but the laugh would merge again into the bitter cry, as the thought would recur persistently—“gone—gone—for ever!”

oh! it was pitiful to see the strong man thus reduced, and reason dethroned; and terrible were the pangs endured by the pirate chief as he heard and saw; but he had now schooled himself to accept what he called his “fate,” and was able to maintain a calm, indifferent demeanour before his men. of course he never for a moment, during all that time, thought of crying to god for mercy, for as long as a man continues to ascribe his sins and their consequences to “fate,” he is a rampant and wilful, besides being an unphilosophical, rebel against his maker.

at last, one afternoon, the peak of sugar-loaf island was descried on the horizon, close to where the sun was descending amid a world of golden clouds.

“which side is the best for landing on!” asked the captain of his mate.

“the southern end, sir, which is steep and uninhabited,” said redford.

in half an hour they were under the shelter of the cliffs close to a creek, at the inner end of which there was a morsel of flat beach. beyond this lay a richly wooded piece of land, which seemed to be connected with a gorge among the hills.

“lower the boat” said rosco. “have three men ready, and, when i call, send them to the hold.”

he descended as he spoke, and approached zeppa, who looked at him with unmistakable ferocity.

“you are going on shore,” he said to the poor madman, who seemed neither to comprehend nor to care for what he said.

“once again,” continued rosco, after a pause, “i tell you that i had no hand in the death of your son. my men, if they had their way, would soon treat you as they treated him. they want to get rid of you, so, to save your life, i must send you on shore. it is an island—inhabited. i hope the natives will prove friendly to you. i hope you will get well—in time. do you understand what i say?”

zeppa neither spoke nor moved, but continued to glare at the man whom he evidently regarded as his deadliest foe.

a touch of pity seemed to influence the pirate captain, for he added in a softer tone, “i would have taken you with me, if it had been possible, and landed you on ratinga. perhaps that may yet be done. at any rate i will return to this island—we shall meet again.”

at last the madman spoke, in a harsh, grating tone,—“if we meet again, you shall die!”

“i will do my best to avoid that fate,” returned rosco, with a touch of sarcasm. “ho! lads! come down.”

three powerful seamen, who had stood at the hatchway awaiting the summons, descended, and at once laid hold of zeppa. to their surprise, he made no resistance. to every one but the captain he behaved liked a lamb. having been placed in the bottom of the boat alongside, with his hands still bound, they shoved off, and rosco, taking the tiller, steered for the little creek.

the instant the keel touched the land two of the men jumped out and hauled the boat ashore. the others assisted zeppa to land. they led him to a grassy bank, and bade him sit down. he obeyed meekly, and sat there gazing at the ground as if unable to comprehend what was being done. rosco remained in the boat while a small box of biscuit was conveyed to the spot and left at the side of zeppa.

then, removing his bonds, the men re-embarked and returned to the schooner, which soon left that part of the island far astern. while it receded, the pirate captain kept his glass fixed on the wretched man whom he had thus forsaken. he saw that zeppa never once turned his head seaward, but, after gazing in a state of abstraction at the ground for some time, rose and sauntered slowly inland. he did not appear to observe the small supply of provision left for his use. with his chin sunk upon his breast and his hands clasped behind him, he appeared to wander aimlessly forward until his tall figure was lost to view among the palm-groves that fringed the bottom of the mountain.

leaving him there, we shall turn now to poor orlando, who had been tossed so unceremoniously into the sea. probably the reader is aware that the water of the southern seas is, in many parts, so much warmer than that of our northern climes, that people may remain in it for hours without being chilled. hence natives of the coral islands are almost amphibious, and our young hero, having spent much of his life among these islands, could swim for the greater part of a day without becoming exhausted.

when, therefore, he caught hold of the life-preserver, as stated in the last chapter, he clung to it with some degree of confidence; but by degrees the depressing influence of continued darkness began to tell upon him, and he became less and less hopeful of deliverance. he bethought him of the great distance they had sailed from ratinga before the mutiny broke out, and the utter impossibility of his being able to swim back. then he thought of sharks, and a nervous tendency to draw up his legs and yell out affected him. but the thought of his father, and of the probable fate that awaited him, at length overbore all other considerations, and threw the poor boy into such a state of despair, that he clung to the life-preserver for a long time in a state of semi-stupor.

at last the day dawned faintly in the east and the glorious sun arose, and orley’s heart was cheered. from earliest infancy he had been taught to pray, so you may be sure he did not fail at this crisis in his young life. but no answer was returned to his prayer until a great part of the weary day had passed, and he had begun to look forward with dread to the approaching night.

as evening advanced, exhaustion began to creep over him, and more than once he felt himself slipping from his support under the influence of sleep. the struggle to retain consciousness now became terrible. he fought the battle in many ways. sometimes he tried to shake himself up by shouting. then he again had recourse to prayer, in a loud voice. once he even attempted to sing, but his heart failed him, and at last he could do nothing but grasp the life-buoy and cling with all the tenacity of despair. and, oh! what thoughts of his mother came over him then! it seemed as if every loving act and look of hers was recalled to his mind. how he longed to clasp her once more in his arms and kiss her before he died!

while these thoughts were gradually taking the form of a hazy dream, he was rudely aroused by something grasping his hair.

sharks, of course, leaped to his mind, and he struggled round with a wild gurgling shriek, for the grasp partially sank him. then he felt himself violently dragged upwards, and his eyes encountered the dark face and glittering eye-balls of a savage.

then was orley’s cry of fear turned into a shout of joy, for in that dark countenance he recognised the face of a friend. a canoe full of ratinga natives had nearly run him down. they had been absent on an expedition, and were alike ignorant of the visit of the free rover and the departure of antonio zeppa.

their astonishment at finding orlando in such a plight was only equalled by their curiosity to know how he had come there; but they were compelled to exercise patience, for the poor boy, overcome by mingled joy and exhaustion, fell back in a swoon almost as soon as he was hauled out of the water.

need we describe the state into which poor madame zeppa was thrown when orlando returned to her?—the strange mingling of grief and terrible anxiety about her husband’s fate, with grateful joy at the restoration of her son? we think not!

ebony, the faithful and sable servitor of the family, got hold of orlando as soon as his poor mother would let him go, and hurried him off to a certain nook in the neighbouring palm-grove where he was wont to retire at times for meditation.

“you’s quite sure yous fadder was not shooted?” he began, in gasping anxiety, when he had forced the boy down on a grassy bank.

“i think not,” replied orley, with a faint smile at the negro’s eagerness. “but you must remember that i was almost unconscious from the blow i received, and scarce knew what was done.”

“but you no hear no shootin’?” persisted ebony.

“no; and if any shots had been fired, i feel certain i should have heard and remembered them.”

“good! den der’s a chance yous fadder’s alive, for if de no hab shooted him at first, de no hab de heart to shoot him arterwards. no, he’d smile away der wikitness; de couldn’ do it.”

orlando was unable to derive much comfort from this sanguine view of the influence of his father’s smile—bright and sweet though he knew it to be—yet with the energy of youth he grasped at any straw of hope held out to him. all the more that ebony’s views were emphatically backed up by the chiefs tomeo and buttchee, both of whom asserted that zeppa had never failed in anything he had ever undertaken, and that it was impossible he should fail now. thus encouraged, orlando returned home to comfort his mother.