“We, from the hill, watched all this with the greatest interest and excitement, and then Ohlsen turned to the others and said, ‘Let us get back to the boat at once. The captain has got under weigh to chase those fellows, and we should be with him.’
“So we descended to the beach, where we met the poor lady and her children, and heard that her husband was dead. She begged Ohlsen not to leave her, but he said his duty lay with his shipmates; then she besought him to at least leave Robert Eury with her, as she was terrified at the idea of having to spend the night on such a wild island with no one but the coloured steward to protect her and her children. At this time—although we could not see them—we knew the ships were heavily engaged, for the roar of the cannon was continuous. So, much to his anger, young Eury was bidden to remain with the captain’s wife, her son aged twelve, her daughter Ann, who was three years younger, the coloured steward, and myself. Then, bidding us goodbye, Ohlsen and his three men went off in the boat, and were soon out of sight.
“Young as he was, Robert Eury had good sense and judgment. He was angry at Mr. Skinner venturing out to attack such well-armed vessels with our poor 9-pounders, and although he had been most anxious to join his shipmates, he was, he afterwards told me, pretty sure that the Britannia would have to strike or be sunk. The first thing he did, however, was to make all of our party comfortable. At the head of the bay there was an empty house, which had been built by the crews of the whaleships frequenting the Galapagos as a sort of rest-house for the men sent to catch tortoises. To this place he took us, and set the steward to work to get us something to eat, for Mr. Skinner had sent provisions and wine ashore. Then he took the ship’s money, which amounted to about thirteen hundred pounds, and buried it a little distance away from the house. I helped him, and when the bags were safely covered up he turned to me with a smile lighting up his brown face.
“‘There, Molly. That’s done, and if Mr. Skinner has to strike, and the Frenchmen come here, they’ll get nothing but ourselves.’
“By this time it was well on towards the afternoon, and we only heard a cannon shot now and then. Then the sound of the firing ceased altogether. We got back to the house and waited—we knew not for what. Poor Mrs. Rossiter, who was a very big, stout woman, had sobbed herself into a state of exhaustion, but she tried to brace herself up when she saw us, and when Robert Eury told her that he had buried the money, she thanked him.
“‘Try and save it for my children, Robert I fear I shall not be long with them. And if I am taken away suddenly I want you to bear witness that it was my husband’s wish, and is mine now, that Mary here is to share alike with my son Fred and my daughter Ann. Would to God I had means here to write.’
“Robert tried to comfort her with the assurance that all would be well, when as he spoke we saw a sight at which I, girl of twelve as I was, was struck with terror—the two French ships appeared round the headland with the Britannia following with French colours at her peak. The three came in together very slowly, and then dropped anchor within a cable’s length of the beach. The captain’s wife looked at them wildly for a moment, and then fell forward on her face. She died that night.
“The two French captains treated us very kindly, and they told Robert, who spoke French well, that Mr. Skinner had made a most determined attempt to board the larger of the two vessels, but was killed by a musket-shot, and that only after thirty of the Britannia’s crew had been killed and wounded, and the ship herself was but little more than a wreck, did Ohlsen, who was himself terribly wounded by a splinter in the side, haul down his flag. Then the elder of the two Frenchmen asked Robert which was the child named ‘Marie.’
“‘This is the child, sir,’ said Eury, pointing to me.
“‘Then let her come with me and see the gunner of our prize,’ said he; ‘he is dying, and has asked to see her.’
“I was taken on board the Britannia, over her bloodstained decks, and into the main cabin, where poor Ohlsen was lying breathing his last. His face lit up when he saw me, and he drew me to his bosom just as he had done years before in the open boat off Tahiti. I stayed with him till the last, then one of the French privateer officers led me away.
“In the morning Mrs. Rossiter was buried; the French captains allowing some of the surviving members of the crew of the Britannia to carry her body to her grave. There was a young Spanish woman—the wife of the older captain—on board the larger of the privateers, and she took care of us three children. I cannot remember her name, but I do remember that she was a very beautiful woman and very kind to us, and told us through an interpreter that we should be well cared for, and some day go home to England; and when she learned my own particular story she took me in her arms, kissed, and made much of me.
“About noon the crew of the Britannia were ranged on deck, and the elder of the two French captains called on Robert Eury to step out.
“‘This man here,’ he said in English, indicating the coloured steward, tells me that you have buried some money belonging to the prize. Where is it?’
“‘I cannot tell you,’ replied Robert; ‘the captain’s wife told me it belonged to her children and to the little girl Mary.’
“The Frenchman laughed. ‘It belongs to us now; it is prize money, my good boy.’
“Eury looked at him steadily, but made no answer.
“’ Come,’ said the captain impatiently, ‘where is it?’
“‘I cannot tell you.’
“The younger of the captains laughed savagely, and stepped up to him, pistol in hand.
“‘I give you ten seconds to tell.’
“‘Five will do, monsieur,’ replied Robert, in French, ‘and then you will be losing five seconds of your time. I shall not tell you. But I should like to say goodbye to my dead captain’s children.’
“‘The young Frenchmen’s face purpled with fury. ‘Very well then, you fool!’ and he raised his pistol to murder the young man, when the older captain seized his arm.
“‘Shame, Pellatier, shame! Would you kill such a brave man in cold blood? Let us be satisfied with getting such a good ship. Surely you would not shoot him for the sake of a few hundred dollars?’
“‘There may be thousands. How can we tell?’ replied Pellatier.
“Robert laughed, and then raised his hand in salute to the elder captain.
“‘Captain Pellatier is right, sir. Madame Melville told me that there were thirteen hundred pounds in the bags which I have buried. And on certain conditions I will tell you where to find it.’
“‘Name them.’
“‘The money is fair prize money. That I admit. But you will never see it, unless you agree to my conditions, and pledge me your word of honour to observe them honourably. I am not afraid to die, gentlemen.’
“‘You are a bold fellow, and ought to have been a Frenchman—but be quick, name the conditions.’
“‘Half of the money to be given to these orphan children, whose pitiable condition should appeal to you. And promise me on your honour as men that you will land them at Valparaiso, or some other civilised place, from where they may reach England. If you will not make this promise, you can shoot me now.’
“‘And what of yourself?’ said Pellatier, who was a little dark man with very ugly monkey-like features; ‘you would be the guardian of this money, no doubt, my clever fellow.’
“The insulting manner in which he spoke exasperated Eury beyond endurance, and he made as if he would strike the man; but he stopped suddenly, and looking contemptuously at the Frenchman uttered the one word—
“‘Babouin!’
“It nearly cost him his life, for Pellatier, stung to fury by the loud laughter of his fellow-captain, again levelled his pistol at the young man, and again the older captain seized his arm.
“‘By Heaven, you shall not harm him!’ he cried, amid a murmur of applause from the crew. Then addressing Eury he said. I give you my promise. The children and yourself are under my protection, and when we reach Valparaiso I will put you all on shore.’ Then he ordered one of his officers to escort Robert ashore and get the money.
“Eury thanked him quietly, and then he turned to Pellatier, and said he was sorry he used an offensive word to him; but Pellatier received his apology with a scowl, and turned away. In half an hour Eury returned with the officer, carrying the money. It was counted and divided, and it was easy to see that Dupuis, the elder captain, was very pleased when the young man asked him to take charge of the half of the money belonging to the Rossiter children and myself.
“The three ships sailed in company for South America a week later. I remained on board the Britannia together with Robert Eury and six others of her original crew, the Rossiter children being taken by the Spanish lady on board the larger of the privateers, the second lieutenant of which, with about twenty men, were drafted to the prize. After keeping in close company for four or five days we lost sight of the privateers, much to the annoyance of our captain, who was a very indifferent navigator, as he soon showed by altering his course to E. by S. so as to pick up the coast of South America as soon as possible. This was a most fortunate thing for us, for at daylight on the following morning two sail were seen, not five miles distant, and to our intense delight proved to be English letters of marque—the barque Centurion of Bristol and the barque Gratitude of London. They at once closed in upon and engaged us, and although the Frenchmen made a good fight, they had to strike after a quarter of an hour’s engagement, for the Centurion was a very heavily armed ship.