A little later, Captain Jamison arrived to make his report, and was received with acclaims and congratulations. Whereat, the honest sailor was vastly surprised, not imagining that they were aware of what had happened on the river. He brought with him the bags of gold and the silver which, he said, he supposed was the ransom money Marbury had paid the pirates, it having been found at the landing, where they had left it in their eagerness to recover their ship.

When questioned, as to how he had got possession of the ship, he told the story:

"I sailed into the Patuxent, with a good breeze on the port quarter, and came in sight of the landing, at about six bells of the dog-watch. I noticed a brig lying close in to the dock that was strange to me, and, on coming nearer, I hove to and hailed her. She didn't answer, nor could I see any one aboard, so I hailed again—and a third time. Then a man appeared from below, and, to my fourth hail, responded something in a jargon I could not understand. I did not like the look of the ship, anyway, and this made me suspicious. I could see that she carried two Long-Toms, had a great expanse of sail, and was built to go a very fast clip. When further hails were ignored, I ordered out a boat and proceeded to board her, with six men. How we managed it is of no moment. Suffice it to say, we got aboard with the loss of one man dead and one wounded, and found only two defenders. We strung them both up to the yard-arm, and took possession. It was a pirate, right enough. I supposed its crew were raiding the Hall, sir, and I was just preparing to go to your assistance, when I saw them returning. I, of course, did not know how far they had succeeded, and I made ready to receive them. You know with what results. It was a pretty little fight. The pirate chief—at least, I made him so—alone managed to get aboard, and had killed two of my men, when I knocked him over from behind with a belaying pin. He stepped aside, at the moment, sufficiently to save his head and catch it on the shoulder. Hence, a broken collar bone instead of a broken skull. He is not much hurt. I've locked him up in the cabin, and put a guard over him. With your permission, Mr. Marbury, I'll have him up at the end of a rope to join his comrades, as soon as I get back. A dead pirate is the only safe one."

"I think I would not be so hasty," said Marbury, with a smile. "Do you know who he is?"

"Not I, sir. A pirate's a pirate—the quicker he's dead the better for honest men."

"You forget the reward—there must be at least five hundred pounds on his head. Long-Sword is worth his weight in gold."

"Long-Sword, did you say? Long-Sword the Corsair?"

Marbury nodded. "It is the name he gave me."

Jamison emitted a whistle of surprise.

"Well I should say he is a gold mine—it's a thousand guineas reward he is. I'll carry him straight to Annapolis—with your honor's permission, of course—and we shall see him doing the gallows dance according to the King's justice. Ho, ho! Ho, ho! I think I'll be quitting the sea, sir, and settling down.... Long-Sword! May the Lord save me! I must go and put him in double irons, at once. He may have a broken collar bone, and be locked in the cabin, but nothing but double irons will hold him safe."

"And what of the pirate ship?" asked Parkington. "If Long-Sword is a prize, it should be a veritable treasure house."

"I purposely refrained from examining her," Jamison answered. "I left that for Mr. Marbury."

"I will come down, presently," said Marbury. "Meanwhile, you may proceed with making an inventory of the booty aboard."

Jamison saluted and departed. The party finished the meal, and went out on the lawn. The dead had been taken away for burial, and the evidences of the late struggle were being removed.

"I hope the house party is not ended," said George Marbury. "The ladies can come back, and, I am sure, feel perfectly safe."

"I fancy that is for the ladies to decide," said Snowden:—"though I am quite willing for Mrs. Snowden to return. We, at least, have seen the last of the pirates, I imagine."

The other men had the same opinion, though Herford thought that he would much prefer to have killed all the pirates, and not had a bunch running loose in the vicinity.

"There is no danger to us," said Plater. "They will get out of the neighborhood about as fast as they can. They may do some marauding, on the march, but it will not be twice in the same place—and it will not be anything that will require time. They are in too great a hurry. I will wager, that they have already separated in twos and threes, to foregather at an appointed place—York or thereabouts. I too am quite willing for Mrs. Plater to return."

And so it was, that he and Snowden and Constable were designated to go to Rose Hill and bring the ladies back—it being understood that nothing be said to them of the pirates' second attack.

A little later, Marbury set out for the dock to inspect the pirate ship. As he was going down the steps, Parkington called to him, that, if he had no objection, he would be glad to accompany him.

"Come along, sir," he answered—"but I think, if the others do not mind, they would better remain to welcome the ladies, and insure that the house is here for them—there is just a chance that the pirates may return."

"Is not this attack most unusual?" Sir Edward asked, as they came in sight of the landing.

"It is more than unusual—it is extraordinary. We have not known of a pirate north of the West Indies for forty years—and, as for one venturing inside the Capes, I fancy, it is not in the memory of man. Of course, we had heard of Long-Sword, as the most notorious buccaneer on the old Spanish Main; but that is far from the Chesapeake. We never thought to see him here, sir."

"I think I should like to talk with him," said Parkington. "It will be quite an interesting experience."

Marbury laughed. "You will be all the rage in London—the man who spoke with Long-Sword—and survived!"

"I am not so sure as to London—and I care nothing for being the rage. It is the novelty of the thing that takes me."

"Well, you may quiz him to your heart's content, and I think you will find him, outwardly at least, a gentleman. He impressed me as being of superior birth—however much he may have backslid in his calling—and his manners are the equal of your own."

Jamison had seen them coming down the avenue, and had sent a boat ashore for them. He had not allowed any at the landing, he explained, lest the pirates return, and make trouble.

"Sir Edward Parkington wants to see Long-Sword," said Marbury. "Is he in the cabin, or have you had him taken below."

"He is in the cabin, sir," Jamison answered. "I concluded to put the irons only on his legs—I think that will hold him. If you will step here, sir, I will admit you."

He unlocked the cabin door, and pushed it open, and motioned the guard away.

"Long-Sword, here is Sir Edward Parkington, who would speak with you," he said.—"You will excuse me, sir, I must join Mr. Marbury."

Parkington nodded, and stepped within. The pirate turned, slowly, on the bunk.

"You will pardon me for not rising," he said; "I am a trifle indisposed," and he indicated the irons. "How can I serve you?"

"Say rather how I can serve you?" Parkington replied.

Long-Sword laughed shortly. "By finishing what that merchantman bungled—make an end of me, or permit me to make an end of myself."

"You are depressed—a most unusual thing for you."

"Eh—what's that!" the other ejaculated—"a most unusual thing for me!—who are you?"

"A friend," said Sir Edward.

"I caught your name as Parkington, did I not?"

"You did."

"Then I do not even know you, sir—how can you be a friend?"

"Is foreknowledge a prerequisite to friendship?" Sir Edward asked.

"Marry, yes; and even then it is a rare article," said the pirate with a sneer. "I am a victim of that same friendship, so you will permit me to doubt."

"Yes, I know; the faithless friend and the disloyal wife. I——"

"Who are you, sir! Come out of the shadow, if you are not afraid to show yourself, I cannot hurt you, now!"

"Brandon," said Parkington, stepping into the light, "you have, I fear, reached the end of your string."

"De Lysle!" exclaimed the wounded man. "May the Devil take me! What do you here—and under a false name? Did England get too warm for you?"

Parkington nodded. "Something of the sort; so I borrowed another's—a dead man's—for the time."

Brandon laughed, grimly. "Methinks your string is little longer than my own—though I wish you success with the game you are playing, whatever it is."

Parkington took a low stool, from the corner, and sat down.

"The immediate point is to lengthen your string," he said.

"You will help me to escape?" the other asked.

"Yes—I have not forgot the old days, Charles."

Brandon looked at him thoughtfully.

"Why?" he asked, "what is the quid pro quo?"

"Nothing whatever, but past deeds. You forget the risk is mine. I put myself in your power, when I came here. A word from you, and I am undone."

"A word from the pirate, taken red-handed? Oh, no! But I will grant anything you ask, in reason and out. I may not cavil with the noose before my nose."

"Wait, then, until I ask it!" laughed Parkington. "How is your wounded shoulder."

"It is nothing—only a broken collar-bone. I have led many a boarding party with worse. It is these damn things that weigh me down," indicating the irons.

"You could swim to shore, if they were off?" queried Parkington.

"Easily. Besides, if I fail, I win anyway."

"And the key to the irons is in Jamison's pocket! Well, it shall be my business to abstract it. And, then, having got it to you, the rest depends upon yourself—aided by my prayers."

"If it is just the same to you, I would prefer you stopped with the key," said Brandon. "I doubt the efficacy of your prayers."

"So be it—I will leave the praying to you."

"How long am I to be kept here?" asked Brandon.

"Only a day or two, I believe. It is the purpose of Captain Jamison to carry you to Annapolis for trial."

"And, in the meantime, you will try for the key?"

"I shall try for the key before I leave the ship," said Parkington. "What troubles me, is an excuse to come back to you when I have it.... Brandon, how long have you been doing—this?"

"You mean, how long have I been sailing under the Jolly Roger? Four years, this spring. It was down in Havana. I fell in with a Captain Sparks. From cards to a duel was an easy transition. I killed Sparks, and, for want of something better to do, I seized his ship, put my sword through his mate—who questioned my authority—and ruled in his stead."

"And took the soubriquet of Long-Sword."

"The men gave me the name for want of a better. My rapier struck them as of unusual length."

"And of unusual strength," said Parkington, "as they, doubtless, were made to realize."

"Yes, I suppose so—they were a trifle unruly, at first, and resented discipline. They came to it, however," and he smiled faintly. "It is a long story, De Lysle, a long story!—too long to tell at this time. I am done with the business, now. I should have quit a year ago. I had made enough, for the present, and it is poor sport, anyway—there is too much blood-letting in it. If I get out of this fix, Long-Sword vanishes forever. I will go home, and live decently. You would better follow my example, De Lysle."

"Not at present, thank you; may be, not at all."

The other looked at him and laughed.

"You are visiting at the—Hedgely Hall, are you?" he asked.

Parkington nodded.

"And there is an eligible daughter?"

Another nod.

"I think I comprehend. And you saw and recognized me, while the master of the house was arranging the terms of a ransom. By the Lord! I wonder what became of the gold?—you might take it, yourself, if it has not been picked up. It must be at the landing, somewhere."

"The ransom was found by Captain Jamison, and returned to Marbury," Parkington explained.

"Well, it is a pity. It would have come handy, I reckon. But, if you get the girl, you will get the money, too. Tell me, did you have this scheme in mind, when you left England?—No—and has your change of name anything to do with it?"

"Damn the change of name!" said Parkington. "It complicates everything, and I do not know how to get rid of it."

"Parkington?—Parkington?—Was not he a friend of Baltimore—one of his women chasers?"

"The same;" and told him, briefly, the story of the wreck, the letters, and the substitution.

Brandon laughed. "And, now, the girl intervenes? I do not see how you can manage it and remain in the Colony. Better give her up and continue your travels.—You are not in love with her?"

"Lord! no!"

"And she?"

"Is not either."

"Then you have only your powers as lady-killer, and being an Englishman, to win out with. Man! man! you better abandon the damsel and move on. It may be pleasant sport, but it is too dangerous."

A heavy step crossed the deck and the door opened, to admit the skipper.

"Sir Edward, I am sent by Mr. Marbury to ask if you would care to look over the ship with him. There is much of interest, I can assure you—these pirates were queer gatherers. Hey, Long-Sword?"

Brandon was not inclined to answer, but Parkington gave him a quick look, and, instantly, he understood. Here was the chance to pick Jamison's pocket, and to give him the key without having to return to the cabin. They must take the opportunity.

"Yes—that they were!" said he. "We sailed many seas and encountered many ships, and they all paid toll. I am sorry we have not aboard all that we gathered—of gold and silver, jewels and women. It is a rare life, skipper, a rare life! Sometime, the fever may catch you, and, then, hey for the Jolly Roger, and farewell to the merchantman."

"Bosh! You are talking to hear yourself talk, Long-Sword," said Jamison. "Your end is going to be enough to keep me straight, even if I want to go wrong. No Jolly Roger for mine, thank God! Sometimes, it pays almost as well to catch a pirate as to be one."

"It pays better in this case," said Brandon, laughing. "What is the reward for me?"

He saw his friend's fingers steal in to the skipper's breeches pocket—and come out empty.

"A thousand guineas!—oh, you are rated high in the profession—right at the top! I calculate, with my share of the prize money and the reward, to settle down in Annapolis, and cruise no more." (Parkington crossed the cabin, idly, to the other side, then stopped close by Jamison.) "Of course, I'll have my barge, and a couple of blacks to row it, and a small schooner to sail the Bay, just to keep my hand and voice in. Oh! it's lucky for me, that I came up the Patuxent this morning, and didn't delay along the Coast until noon!" (The skipper was standing with his thumbs under his armpits, his chest thrown out, his head in the air—his pockets invitingly open.)

"Honesty gains its own reward," said Parkington, slyly slipping in his hand. "Captain Jamison will be an honored citizen of Annapolis, while you, Long-Sword, will be nothing but a bloody memory." (The hand came out, and the key was in it.) "'Tis small profit at the best this being a pirate, and cannot be for long. When the end comes, there is naught remains but to die bravely."

Brandon heaved a sigh of resignation. "I will die game, never fear," he said.

"Oh, it is entirely your concern, how you die!" laughed Parkington. "If you leave it to the mob, the more you cringe and pray the more they will yell."

He took out his snuff box, and extended it to him.

"Yes, thank you!" said Brandon. "You are very kind, indeed."

Parkington crossed to the bunk, thereby throwing himself between the skipper and the prisoner, and with his back to the former. When he stepped aside, the key was in the other's possession.

"Thank you, monsieur, thank you, heartily," said Brandon—"it is delicious, delicious! May I impose on you for another pinch—I lost my box during the fight?"

Parkington handed him the box, and, this time, he was careful to stand so that the skipper could see distinctly.

"Accept it as a gift," said he. "As a slight return for an hour pleasantly spent.—Nay, I insist; I must to Mr. Marbury, so permit me to wish you, sir, a very good morning."

And with a bow and a smile, he preceded the skipper to the deck.

"Nerve, hasn't he?" said the skipper. "One would never know he has a broken collar-bone, and heavy irons on his legs."

"He will die like a gentleman."

"He confided in you, sir?" Jamison asked, eagerly.

"No—that is the last thing a gentleman would do. He was Long-Sword when taken, he will die as Long-Sword. When do you sail for Annapolis?"

"To-morrow—as soon as the inventory is completed.—She is not as rich, sir, as I anticipated, but there will be a plenty, sir, a plenty."

"Ha, Sir Edward, this is a peculiar proceeding—taking account of a pirate ship," said Marbury. "I don't know the law of such prizes, but I'll be on the safe side; no King's deputy is going to pick things over without any one to check him."

"A wise precaution, and an interesting transaction,—in fact, a wholly enjoyable occasion," Parkington answered. "Jewels, money, gay apparel,—everything to appeal to one. You have got well into it, I see," pointing to the deck.

"We have finished it, so far as such things are concerned—that is, we have finished the collecting. They must have lately buried or spent their ill-gotten gains; this is the gatherings of only a comparatively short time, I think.

"For these things make us duly thankful!" laughed Parkington.

"Oh! I am not complaining, and neither, I fancy, is Jamison. I am satisfied—more than satisfied. Here is a diamond brooch, worth at least five hundred pistoles—and another—and another. They were in Long-Sword's cabin. And this bezelled ruby, equally as valuable; and this emerald, bigger than the others, I know not the worth of. There is much gold and silver, too, and many rings and—well, I should put it all at twenty thousand pounds, though half may be too much. Then, there is the ship itself—and Jamison and the crew have the reward to boot. Oh, he can leave the sea, and settle down, if he is so minded."

Parkington looked down at the pile of plunder at his feet. Marbury had been modest in his estimate, he knew. It may, as he said, have been the pickings of a short cruise, but it was a rich prize, then, that they had gathered. There were jewels of many kinds and many sizes, other than the few Marbury had enumerated. Dozens of pearls, and sapphires, rubies and diamonds—set in rings, and singly—encrusted in daggers, and swords, and fans. Great heaps of stuffs: silks and laces, tapestries and damaskins.

"Mr. Marbury's valuation is much too low," said he, looking at Jamison.

"Do you think so, sir? Well, the bigger the value the better." He plunged his hands into his breeches pocket and squared away. "I do not—Why, where, in hell, is the key!" he cried.

"What key!" demanded Marbury.

"The key to the irons—Long-Sword's irons; I had it an hour ago—here, in my pocket!—I——"

"Then you, doubtless, lost it in the confusion of gathering all this plunder," said Parkington.

"And it is no great matter, anyway," Marbury remarked. "You don't intend to remove the irons, so long as Long-Sword is in your custody, do you?"

"No, most assuredly not!"

"Then the Annapolis authorities can cut them off at their leisure, if they have not a key. They are locked on now, which is the essential thing."

"How do you suppose I lost it? I——"

"Never mind how you lost it," said Marbury, impatiently. "You have got the man, so nothing else matters. I want to finish the inventory, and get back to the house. Sir Edward, do not let me keep you, if you wish to return.—You have had your talk with Long-Sword?"

"Yes—and you are right—he is well born, though, of course, as to that, he kept silent. He was ready enough, however, to talk over his pirate days—he recognizes the inevitable and accepts it. There will be no snivelling from him, I think."

"He may be a pirate, but to my mind, he is pretty much of a man. Jamison, let Sir Edward be put ashore."

"Well, it is up to Brandon, now," Parkington reflected as he stepped from the boat, at the landing, and turned toward the house. "And, unless I am not much mistaken, there will be a pirate chief missing, in the morning. And, pray God, he wins out! Who would have thought Sir Charles Brandon would ever have become a buccaneer? He was the gayest of us all, until, one evening, he surprised his wife in his friend's arms. He killed the friend at the next day-break, then disappeared; we never saw him more! And to think, that Long-Sword the Corsair is he! Long-Sword! they named him well—there was not a man, in all England, who could stand up before him with a hope of success. Many is the trick of fence he has taught me—and other tricks, as well. I would I could help him more—yet, I have done all I can. The couple of guineas, I concealed in the snuff-box, may be of assistance; I could manage no more. That devil of a skipper came a bit too soon." ... He walked a little way, in silent meditation. Then shook himself, like one throwing off a spell. "High ho! I am becoming morbid. When the devil drives, the road is apt to be a trifle rough, in spots. Brandon's fortunes are his own—I must not let them affect me.... To marry or not to marry?—to make the maid care for me or not?—and whether the maid can be made to care or not?—that is the question. And, more important still, shall I or shall I not doff the masquerade? Poof! I am growing childish—I cannot make up my mind. To-morrow—to-morrow—to-morrow! To-morrow is another day!—but, to-morrow never comes! Bah! I will decide to-day!"