In a secluded cove, formed by a bend in a small river, that empties its waters into the sea a few miles from Havana, whose mouth, bare thirty yards in width, would scarce be discovered by a stranger, or casual observer, so rankly and luxuriously do the mangrove-bushes grow upon its banks, and even in the water, that sailing within a hundred feet of the shore, no break or indentation is visible in the line of vegetation, lay at anchor one of the most beautiful and symmetrical top-sail schooners that ever left the port of Baltimore.

The great tautness and beautiful proportion of her masts, the length of her black fore-yards, the care displayed in the furl of her sails, and the tautness and accuracy with which her rigging was set up, would have convinced one at a distance that she was a man-of-war; this impression would have been strengthened, upon a nearer approach, by the fresh coat of jet-black paint upon her splendidly modeled hull, and the appearance of seven pieces of bright brass ordnance; one a long eighteen, on a pivot amidships, the others short carronades, three a side, ranged along her spotless deck, holy-stoned until it was as white as chalk; the ornamental awning stretched fore and aft, the neatness and care with which the running gear was stopped and flemished down, and the bright polish of all the metal work inboard, also indicated the authority and discipline of the pennant.

But the absence of that customary appendage to a cruiser, the lack of an ensign, and the total want of uniform, or uniformity, in the large crew who were scattered over her deck, enjoying or amusing themselves, in the shade, with a greater degree of license than is allowed in any regular service; in groups between the guns, and on the fore-castle, some were gambling, some spinning yarns, others sleeping, and nearly all smoking, combined with their motley appearances, for almost every maritime nation had contributed to form her compliment: Spaniards, Portuguese, Germans, Swedes, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, mulattoes and swarthy negroes, were to be distinguished at a glance, and precluded the idea of her being a regularly commissioned craft: whilst the suppressed tones of the men’s voices, the air of subordination that pervaded their deportment, and the apparent sanctity of the quarter-deck, evinced a greater degree of rule and order than is to be found in a pirate.

She was neither man-of-war, bucaneer, nor honest merchantman, but the celebrated slaver “La Maraposa;”^[3] who, for three years, had been setting at defiance the whole naval force on the African station; and many were the tales, current in the squadron, of her unrivaled speed, and the courage and address of her notorious captain.

Two persons were to be seen slowly pacing the schooner’s quarter-deck; one, who seemed to be the captain, was tall, with a breadth of shoulders, smallness of waist, and elasticity of motion, that promised an uncommon degree of muscular strength, united with great agility. His dress was simple; an embroidered shirt of fine linen the only upper garment, sailor pants, of white drilling, kept in their place by a sash of crimson silk around the waist; a black silk handkerchief, loosely knotted around his finely formed neck, which, with white stockings and pumps on his feet, and a broad Panama sombrero on his head, comprised the whole of his attire, and, though scant, it accorded well with the heat of the day, and showed to advantage the perfection of his form.

His face, when under the influence of pleasant emotions, or lit up by a smile, was eminently handsome, and would at once have been recognized as that of the American who had led captive the heart of Francisca at the governor’s ball. But when excited, as he now seemed to be, by evil passions, there was a fierceness and recklessness in his eye, and an expression of coolness and determination about his mouth, that rendered his countenance fascinatingly fearful.

The other was a Spaniard, who held the situation of first officer on board the Maraposa, a stout, seaman-like personage, with nothing remarkable in his appearance, except a look of daring and dogged resolution in his deep-brown eye and square lower jaw.

They had been for some time quietly continuing their circumscribed walk, when the silence was broken by the captain in a voice of suppressed anger, addressing his mate with—

“It is both foolish and boyish, I know, Mateo, to let the remembrance of that whippersnapping lubber’s words chafe me so; but to have heard him, he, who never knew disappointment, unkindness, thwarted exertions, or suspicion; and who, fresh from his lady mother’s drawing-room in London, is as proud of his new ten-gun brig, and first command, as a child of his plaything; to have heard him criticising the character of ‘Charles Willis,’ and branding him with the name of ‘outlaw!’ ‘heathen!’ ‘villain!’ ‘brute!’ and boasting to the ladies at the ball that his course would soon be run; for he, the silk-worm, intended, ere a month was past, to capture his vessel, or blow her out of the water. Caraho! he had better never cross my path—it was as much as I could do to keep my knife out of his heart even then.”

“Caramba!” exclaimed Mateo, “he will be likely to meet with disappointments enough, before he has the pleasure of capturing the little Butterfly; and he will probably find our long Tom a match for his ten barkers, even if he perfumes his balls. But, pestÉ, think no more of the fool, seÑor capitan; and wishing him ‘buen vega a los infiernos,’^[4] is it not time for us to be getting under way?”

“Yes; pass the word for all hands up anchor and make sail.”

The shrill tone of the boatswain’s pipe, was soon heard, and the celerity with which the anchor was got, catted and fished, and sail made upon the schooner, proved her crew to be both active and efficient, if they were of many colors; for in five minutes after the call was first sounded she was under sail, moving down the river, and in twenty more was standing away from the shore of Cuba, with a fresh breeze, at the rate of eleven knots an hour, bound to the coast of Africa.

The Maraposa was seven days out, and it had just struck four bells in the mid-watch; the night was clear and star-light; a fresh wind was blowing from the southward and eastward, making it about three points free for the schooner—her best trim for sailing; naught was to be heard on her decks but the ripple of the water, as it curled up and divided before her wedge-like bow; so deathly silent was every thing, that had it not been for the figure of the man at the wheel, the mate leaning against the weather bulwark, and the outline of the look-out on the cat-head, giving evidence of human agency, she would have seemed some ocean-spirit, cleaving its way through its native element; the rest of the watch stowed away between the guns, sleeping, or, in sailor phrase, “caulking,” were invisible, when the look-out on the fore-topsail yard sang out, “Sail ho!”

This sound, so agreeable to the ears of a merchantman, has a very different effect upon the tympanum of a slaver—for, expecting in every sail to find an enemy, they desire no greetings on the ocean.

The mate, instantly aroused, called out in quick, short tones, “Where away?”

“Dead astern, sir,” answered the look-out.

“Can you make her out?”

“No, sir, not yet; she’s square-rigged, but so far I can’t tell whether brig or ship.”

“Very well; a stern chase is always a long one. Keep your eye on her, and let me know when you can make her out.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

But it was not until after daybreak that they were able to make out the character of the sail—for the vessel had never yet been met with that could overhaul the Maraposa, going free in smooth water, and the stranger had not gained a foot on her. She was now discovered to be a large man-of-war brig, under a press of canvas, apparently in pursuit of the slaver. The officer of the watch went below to report to the captain, and was surprised by the eager voice with which he asked if he had ever seen the brig before, and if he knew her build—for the schooner had been chased so often, that her crew knew all the men-of-war on the station; and having always escaped with impunity, they had the most perfect reliance in the superior qualities of their own craft, so much so, that a vessel astern was regarded with scarce more interest than a floating log. With his curiosity, therefore, a good deal excited to understand the unusual anxiety of his captain, the officer replied that he thought the strange sail was an Englishman, and was sure she was an entirely new vessel; and, returning on deck, took a long and close survey of the brig, to see if he could find any thing about her more alarming than in the hundred other vessels of the same class that had pursued them; but all he could discover was, that she was a large ten-gun brig, of English build, and seemingly new; and laying down the glass, would have given himself no further trouble about the matter, had not the captain, just coming on deck, picked up the telescope, and after one steady look at the Englishman, called out, “Man the top-sail and top-gallant clew-lines and buntlines; settle away the halyards; let go the sheets; clew up; lower away the flying-jib;” and looking over the bulwarks a moment, to note the decreasing speed of the schooner, ordered the fore-sail to be lowered.

Thus leaving the vessel under only her main-sail, jib, and fore-topmast stay-sail—orders so unusual in the face of an enemy, created some surprise in the crew; but accustomed to obey, without stopping to argue, his commands were quickly executed.

The loss of so much canvas was soon perceptible in the schooner’s progress, for instead of going at the rate of eleven knots, as she had been with her former sail, she now hardly made four—and the brig astern was rapidly gaining upon them; this gave Willis no uneasiness, and he walked the deck without even looking at her for some time. He then called away the crew of the long gun, and ordered them to put a fresh load in her.

The piece was soon loaded; and the crew were now eager to know what would be the next move. One of the younger sailors stepped up to the captain of the eighteen, who was also captain of the fore-castle—a grim, weather-beaten old tar, whose face bronzed with the sun, and seamed with several scars, gave evidence of many combats, both with man and the elements—and asked if he thought the skipper was really going to have a set-to with the brig—“for, blast me, she’s big enough to blow us all to Davy Jones.”

The old salt, after emptying his mouth of a quantity of tobacco-juice, to enable him to make a reply, hitched up his trowsers with his left hand, slapped his right down on the breech of the gun, and turning his eyes toward the interrogator with huge disdain, said, “Look ye, youngster, if so be as how you’s so mighty uneasy about the captain’s motions, you had better walk aft and ask him; and as you look so uncommon old of your age, perhaps he might give you the trumpet;^[5] but as for me, shipmate, it’s now two years and nine months since I joined this craft—and blast my eyes if the chap ever put his foot on a deck that can handle her better, or knows better what he is about, than the one on her quarter-deck; and, curse me, if he was to pass the word to let go the anchor in the middle of the ocean, I would be sure the mud-hook would bring up with twenty fathom, and good sandy bottom; and if it is so we engages that are brig, we will give her h—l, big as she looms.”

The brig by this time was within three-quarters of a mile of the Maraposa, astern, and a little to leeward; and with the intention, as it appeared, of ascertaining the distance, fired one of her bow-chasers—but the ball struck and richocheted over the water far in the schooner’s wake. Captain Willis, with a scornful smile on his lip, told the man at the wheel to put his helm up, and let the schooner’s head pay off. “Watch her as she falls off, Davis,” he said to the old captain of the long gun, “and fire when you get a sight.”

“Steady, so!” was Davis’s reply—and the loud boom of the cannon resounded over the water. The watchful eye of Willis discerned splinters flying from the fore-mast of the brig, and shortly after the top-mast, top-gallant and royal-masts, with all their sails and gear, were seen to totter for an instant, and then pitch over the lee side.

A loud shout from the crew of the slaver attested their gratification at the success of their first shot; and a weather-broadside from the crippled brig, whose head had fallen off from the wind, in consequence of the drift of her wrecked masts, manifested their anger.

The schooner was now put about, and sailing round and round the brig, out of the reach of her short guns, opened upon her a murderous fire from the long eighteen, and had shot away all her spars but the stump of the fore-mast, and was about boarding her; for the brig, with the stubborn determination of a bull-dog, returned gun for gun, in defiance, though her shot all fell short, and refused to surrender, notwithstanding she was likely to be riddled and sunk—for every ball from the schooner crashed through her bulwarks, or lodged in her hull.

So interested had the crew of the slaver been in watching the effect of their fire, that the schooner’s head had been directed toward the brig, and the boarders had been called away, before they discovered, not a mile distant, a large ship dead to windward, bearing down upon them, hand over hand, with studding-sails set alow and aloft on both sides. Her character was not to be mistaken—she was a large first-class sloop-of-war; and the Maraposa, thus compelled to leave her prey, just as it was about to fall in her grasp, fired one more gun, by way of salute, and running up to her main-truck a large white burgee, with “Willis” on it, in conspicuous blue letters, to let her antagonist know to whom she was indebted, crowded all sail and stood away on her former course.

Willis’s sole motive for having thus attacked a much larger vessel than his own, and the capture of which would have been no profit to him, was to be revenged on her captain, whom he knew to be the same officer that had spoken of him in such disparaging terms at the ball, where, in the character of a young American gentleman, visiting the island for pleasure, he had been compelled inactively to listen to himself most mercilessly berated.

This, to a mind like Willis’s, was a wrong never to be forgotten. Born of a good family, though in straitened circumstances, well educated, and of naturally fine feelings, he had in his youth become dissipated, and the ardor of his temperament had for awhile forced him to great lengths in vice; but soon seeing the folly of his course, he determined entirely to reform his life and become a steady, industrious man; but when he informed his relations and friends of his resolution, and asked their countenance and assistance to reinstate him in his former position, he was met with sneers of incredulity, and unkindly told that as he had “sown to the wind, he might now reap the whirlwind.” Knowing himself to be possessed of talents, energy, and perseverance, his pride and self-love were keenly stung, and feeling perfectly disgusted with the want of charity, thus displayed by those who professed to be the “salt of the earth,” and believing them to be as wicked as himself, only gifted with more hypocrisy, and chagrined with all the world, he gave himself up entirely to the guidance of his passions.

But even now, associated as he was with the most desperate and abandoned, he could not always suppress a desire to return to that society he was born to adorn.

La Maraposa—The Butterfly.