with much regret to send Ingerfield and his ship to the bottom of the
Atlantic. Replies Captain Ingerfield, "That is just what he will
have to do before I give up one of my people," and fights the big
frigate--fights it so fiercely that after three hours Captain of
King's frigate thinks it will be good to try argument again, and
sends therefore a further message, courteously acknowledging Captain
Ingerfield's courage and skill, and suggesting that, he having done
sufficient to vindicate his honour and renown, it would be politic to
now hand over the unimportant cause of contention, and so escape with
his treasure.

"Tell your Captain," shouts back this Ingerfield, who has discovered
there are sweeter things to fight for than even money, "that the Wild
Goose has flown the seas with her belly full of treasure before now,
and will, if it be God's pleasure, so do again, but that master and
man in her sail together, fight together, and die together."

Whereupon King's frigate pounds away more vigorously than ever, and
succeeds eventually in carrying out her threat. Down goes the Wild
Goose, her last chase ended--down she goes with a plunge, spit
foremost with her colours flying; and down with her goes every man
left standing on her decks; and at the bottom of the Atlantic they
lie to this day, master and man side by side, keeping guard upon
their treasure.

Which incident, and it is well authenticated, goes far to prove that
the Ingerfields, hard men and grasping men though they be--men caring
more for the getting of money than for the getting of love--loving
more the cold grip of gold than the grip of kith or kin, yet bear
buried in their hearts the seeds of a nobler manhood, for which,