He was cut to pieces. The signal had been secured by the first pirate
party that landed; his hair was all singed off, and his face was
blackened with the running pitch from a torch.

He made no complaint of pain, or of anything. "Good-bye, old chap," was
all he said, with a smile. "I've got my death. And Death ain't life. Is
it, Gill?"

Having helped to lay his poor body on one side, I went back to my post.
Sergeant Drooce looked at me, with his eyebrows a little lifted. I
nodded. "Close up here men, and gentlemen all!" said the Sergeant. "A
place too many, in the line."

The Pirates were so close upon us at this time, that the foremost of them
were already before the gate. More and more came up with a great noise,
and shouting loudly. When we believed from the sound that they were all
there, we gave three English cheers. The poor little children joined,
and were so fully convinced of our being at play, that they enjoyed the
noise, and were heard clapping their hands in the silence that followed.

Our disposition was this, beginning with the rear. Mrs. Venning, holding
her daughter's child in her arms, sat on the steps of the little square
trench surrounding the silver-house, encouraging and directing those
women and children as she might have done in the happiest and easiest
time of her life. Then, there was an armed line, under Mr. Macey, across
the width of the enclosure, facing that way and having their backs
towards the gate, in order that they might watch the walls and prevent
our being taken by surprise. Then there was a space of eight or ten feet
deep, in which the spare arms were, and in which Miss Maryon and Mrs.