“You have made a dreadful mistake, father,” Shanna declared, using the more stilted form of address. “ ‘Twas this Mister Ruark who saved us all from the pirates’ hands as these good people will attest.” She nodded to Gaitlier and Dora, who had followed it all with widened eyes, fearful lest this be their reward also. “Indeed,” Shanna murmured, “ ’twas Mister Ruark who saw that”—she paused, uncertain, but for a reason none of them guessed, and continued more cautiously—“he saw me safe from those bloodthirsty villains at the risk of his own life. I am as I was, untouched by them because of him.”
Ralston sneered and cold, sea-green eyes turned on him, but Shanna went on with her defense though she faced away from her father’s gaze and could not bear to meet Pitney’s, either.
“Mister Ruark was taken to Mare’s Head from Los Camellos much against his will and ‘twas by his wits he managed to get the rest of us away. If you insist upon taking him, you must do so over me. I swear you will.”
At a groan from Ruark she dropped the whip and flew to kneel beside him.
“Fetch the surgeon!” Trahern’s voice rang out in command. “Then make sail for Mare’s Head.”
Shanna gathered Ruark’s head into her lap and brushed his tumbled hair from his forehead. As Pitney bent to straighten Ruark out more comfortably on the deck, he heard Shanna croon very low.
“It’s all right now, my darling. It’s all right.”
Ruark closed his eyes and sank into merciful oblivion.
By midmorning of the next day, Ruark was able to stand with Trahern on the quarterdeck of the Hampstead. He leaned on the merchant’s grotesque black thorn quarterstaff which had been loaned to him—somewhat reluctantly—in lieu of a crutch. Shanna stood between them, clutching her father’s arm while she kept a careful eye on her man. The surgeon had removed several small splinters and threads of cloth from his leg, dressed the ugly wound with pungent salves and herbs, then wrapped it with fresh bandages. Though slightly feverish and a trifle lightheaded, Ruark refused to lie abed. He welcomed the refreshing breeze that swept the quarterdeck and savored the anticipation of sighting Mare’s Head. On the main deck, the crewmen had already checked the long steel sackers, and when the Hampstead dropped anchor just outside the reef of the pirates’ island, the dull silvery gray barrels were loaded and primed.
When all was in readiness, the Hampstead entered the cove beyond the reef.
The scene that greeted them was one of chaos. Boats began setting out to the ships in the harbor. The mulatto had retrieved his ship from the tangle of the swamp, and it now lay close beside the dock. There was feverish activity aboard the sloop and at the shed which hid the guns. Even before the Hampstead was in range, a flash and a cloud of smoke appeared from the sloop, and a column of water rose abruptly a good two hundred yards short of the bow. It was a poor warning shot, for it marked the maximum range of the pirates’ aged guns.
The sound of the cannon was hidden beneath a sharp bark of one of the Hampstead‘s sackers, and, a split second later, the other. Thus the battle was begun. A geyser showed short of the sloop, and a huge roll of dust formed on the hill above the town.
In the village there was an abrupt halt to all activity as the guns sounded, for all suddenly realized that the island was not safe, as they had supposed. Suddenly there was a frantic rush of people running to and fro between the houses as they snatched their most precious belongings and tried to carry them to safety.
The sackers barked their staccato duet again, and this time plumes of timber and debris rose above the town. Ruark had an unpleasant vision of the innocents cowering beneath the barrage that descended with merciless indiscrimination upon them. The Hampstead‘s gun crews were not skilled in the use of fine pieces; they knew, instead, the haphazard ranging of the older iron and brass cannon. Ruark mouthed a single silent curse and painfully began to make his way to where the gun crews labored. The sackers barked again, and again pointless showers of dust and splintered timbers rose to scatter down on the people. Meanwhile, the mulatto’s sloop was being winched out on her anchor cable, and sails were rising along her mast.
Ruark used Trahern’s staff to brush aside the captains of the gun crews and, seizing a handspike from one of them, aimed the guns himself. Standing back, he raised his arm, and two men stood ready at the touchholes. Ruark dropped his hand, and the deck jumped beneath him as both guns fired in unison. The deck of the sloop became a shambles as the twin shot crashed upon it and brought down masses of rigging and the foremast. Ruark urged the gun crews to reload with all due haste and aimed the pieces again. At his signal they spoke together. This time the pirate ship’s mainmast fell, and she heeled heavily as a long gash opened in her starboard side at the waterline. Men dived overboard as she swung astern against the pier and began to settle in the shallow harbor.