CAPTURE OF THE PLATE FLEET AND SACK OF LA GUAYRA DISAPPEARANCE OF ROGER AND HARRY.

To make certain of not arriving at their destination too soon, and before the townspeople and the garrison had retired for the night, the English ships carried but a small amount of canvas, and consequently made only some two to three knots per hour.

It was a little after midnight when Roger, who was, as usual, on the lookout, and who was credited with the sharpest pair of eyes in the ship, saw for the second time the lights of La Guayra opening up. As they came into fuller view of the town itself, and of the roadstead, they were somewhat astonished to find that both were enveloped in almost perfect darkness there was scarcely a light to be seen, either ashore or afloat. There were one or two scattered here and there about the town, but there were none at all in the forts, and not a single glimmer was to be made out anywhere in the roadstead.

Surely it was not possible that the vessels of the plate fleet, and its two protecting warships, could have left the port and disappeared during the short time that had elapsed since the boat expedition had made its reconnaissance! At that time, too, there had been numerous other craft lying there at anchor; yet now it seemed as though the bay were deserted. Some fresh arrangement some new plan was obviously necessary.

The English ships showed no lights whatever, and the strictest silence was observed. The captains had received their orders beforehand, and would have known exactly what course to pursue had there been any lights showing. But now it became necessary to take fresh counsel among themselves, and decide how to act.

The flag-ship was, as usual, in the van, and Mr Cavendish ordered all the boats to be lowered and manned. These were then to spread out in line, so as to make sure of intercepting the other two vessels as they came up, and, having found them, to give orders for them to heave-to, and for their respective captains to repair on board the Good Adventure. The boats themselves were to return to the flag-ship as soon as these orders had been carried out.

Luckily there was no difficulty in picking up the other ships, even in the pitchy blackness that prevailed that night, and with but a few minutes’ delay the officers of the fleet were once more assembled in the cabin of the flag-ship. The situation was discussed as briefly as possible, for there was no time to lose, and it was presently decided that, instead of the remainder of the fleet following the flag-ship’s lead, as originally agreed, the officer of each ship who had been with the boat expedition should do his best to pilot the vessel under his care to the berth occupied by the warships. Arrived there, should the Spanish ships be present, as all on board fervently hoped would prove to be the case, they were to attack at once. Whichever of the two Spaniards might happen to be first attacked, the other would almost certainly come to the help of her consort, and the flash of the guns and noise of the tumult would serve to guide the remainder of the English squadron to the scene of the conflict.

If, on the other hand, it should be found that the warships and plate ships had made their escape, each vessel was to return to the entrance of the roadstead and await the arrival of her consorts as they too retreated from the bay, when, all having rejoined, they were to return to their former hiding-place, where fresh plans would be discussed and made.

This matter being arranged, the captains returned each to his own ship, and very shortly afterward the fleet were again under weigh and standing inshore in the same order as at first.

Slowly and noiselessly as ghosts they glided on, each heading for the place where the pilots thought, and all hoped against hope, to find the warships lying, with behind them the plate fleet, which was the actual objective of the expedition.

The English ships had separated, and on board the flag-ship nothing could now be seen or heard of the remainder of the squadron, each pilot having taken the direction in which he personally considered the enemy to be lying. Nothing could be made out, either ashore or afloat, to guide them in the slightest degree in their search. They were, indeed, groping blindly forward in the hope of accidentally coming upon their quarry. The few lights of the town that were visible were away at the other side of it, at a long distance from them, and were so far from being of any service that they were positively misleading, to such an extent that at any moment it might happen that they would find their ship ashore.

Roger and Harry were standing in their usual position on the fore-deck, gazing eagerly ahead, each anxious to be the first to sight the enemy, when Harry caught his friend’s sleeve, and, pointing into the darkness at a faint blur upon their port bow, said:

“There’s something there, Roger. D’ye see it, lad? It’s a ship of some sort. I can just make out her masts. We shall pass her at very close quarters. Now, I wonder if perchance she is one of the warships that we are searching for?”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a perfect volcano of flame flashed from the side of the vessel which Harry had just sighted, immediately followed by a thunderous roar, and the shot from the well-aimed broadside came crashing aboard, doing a considerable amount of execution. Men fell in every part of the ship. Cries, shrieks, groans, and curses arose from the decks, which for a moment were a perfect pandemonium of confusion.

The captain, rushing along the deck, shouted: “Steady, lads, and stand to your guns! The Spaniards expected and are ready for us; but do not forget that you are Englishmen. Pull yourselves together, men, and give them back better than we received.”

The confusion was but momentary. The crews were by this time too well disciplined to become panic-stricken, and, awaiting the word of command, they presently poured in their already-prepared broadside with great effect, for the mainmast of the war-ship was seen to quiver, totter, and finally fall with a rending crash over the side remote from the Good Adventure, throwing the crew of the Spaniard into momentary disorder.

As the flag-ship came up to her antagonist, she took in her sails and ranged up alongside, inshore of her. There were no batteries opposite where the vessels were lying, so that no danger was to be apprehended on that score.

Like magic, the lights flared up from all parts of the town, and aboard all the vessels in the bay, as also in the fort at the opposite extremity of the roadstead. The war-ship herself became a blaze of illumination, as did also her consort, which could now be seen lying but a half-cable’s-length distant, and which also opened a tremendous fire upon the flag-ship. The other two ships of the English squadron, meanwhile, had shifted their helms and were fast approaching, guided by the flashing of guns and the uproar of the action.

Even the ships of the plate fleet, lying near at hand, and which proved to be heavily armed, now began to open fire, as well as the distant fort; and it was soon very evident that the English fleet had entered into an engagement in which the odds were vastly against them. They had anticipated surprising the enemy; but the surprise was all the other way. Neither had they reckoned on the plate vessels being nearly so heavily armed.

The booming of cannon now resounded from all sides, and the darkness was made light by the flashes from the guns, whilst the air became thick and heavy with powder smoke. The Elizabeth and the Tiger had come upon the scene, and were attacking the second war-ship, which was resisting gallantly, supported as she was by the guns from the ships composing the plate fleet.

Indeed the English were in a very warm corner.

The flag-ship was engaging the first war-ship the name of which they discovered to be the Sotomayor yard-arm to yard-arm, and both vessels fairly reeled under the concussion as the heavy shot crashed in at one side and out at the other, while the Good Adventure was already on fire below from the flashes of the guns of her opponent. English sailormen, however, were ready then, as now, to meet all emergencies, and the fire was speedily quenched, only to start again, however, and be again put out.

Three times did Cavendish pour his boarders on to the decks of the Sotomayor, and three times they were driven back by the desperate valour and greatly superior numbers of the Spaniards.

The Spaniard had lost every mast but her foremast, and the English ship was in almost as bad a plight. Both ships were badly riddled by shot, and their crews were decimated. It seemed as though, unless some decisive move were made to end the conflict, that the combatants would be exterminated to a man.

The second war-ship, the Villa de Méjico, was in even worse plight than her consort, having two vessels to engage her instead of only one. She fought with the valour of desperation, however, and was packed with soldiers who had been put aboard her from the fort in anticipation of the attack.

It had somehow got to be known, although it was never discovered how, that the English were near at hand, and were suspected of contemplating an attack on the fleet; and in view of this suspicion elaborate preparations had been made for their reception.

The crews of the Tiger and the Elizabeth had several times endeavoured to board, but had been swept back to their own ships on every occasion by the combined sailors and soldiers on the Spaniard.

Harry and Roger were, as usual, in the very thick of it, fighting side by side like the young heroes that they were, and, truth to tell, doing a considerable amount of execution.

They were pausing for a moment to take breath, when both happened to glance forward, and at once saw that the two ships, the Good Adventure and the Sotomayor with her, were drifting right down upon the second Spaniard and her antagonists. The Spaniards on the Sotomayor, finding themselves almost overpowered, had cut their cable purposely, to drift down with the tide on board their consort, in the hope of being able to make a better stand together than separately. But they were mistaken in their expectation. The other vessel, having had two to contend with, was in no condition to render assistance of any kind; rather, indeed, did she stand in need of help from the Sotomayor.

A brief minute later the flag-ship, still grappling with her quarry, was aboard the other three craft, and the confusion became worse confounded.

The Spaniards, determined to make one last desperate effort to beat off the English, rallied, and, combining their forces, forestalled their antagonists by attempting to board.

The two Spanish ships acted in concert, and hurled their soldiers and sailors aboard the three English craft; but it was a hopeless attempt from the first. The English closed up, and, forming a solid phalanx, cut them down right and left, driving them back, and quickly compelling the shattered remnant of the boarders to seek the refuge of their own decks. Nor did they stop at that, but followed them pell-mell and close on their heels in their retreat to the decks of the Spanish ships. The Spaniards fought with the courage of desperation, but their utmost efforts were unavailing; the blood of the Englishmen was now thoroughly up, and there was no stopping them. They rushed with irresistible courage and determination among the shattered and now completely disheartened remnants of the enemy, and cut them down wholesale. Mere mortal flesh and blood could no longer withstand the impetuous onslaught of the Englishmen, and presently a voice was heard from their diminished ranks shouting: “We surrender! we surrender! Mercy, mercy!”

Cavendish raised his voice in command; the slaughter ceased, and the two armadas were in the hands of the English. The Spaniards were ordered to fling down their weapons, and they obeyed.

They were then at once sent below and secured under hatches, and the victors were now free to turn their attention to the plate ships that were their primary objective.

Such boats as would swim were quickly lowered and filled with armed men, whose orders were to board the vessels, capture them out of hand, and carry them out to sea under their own canvas; after which the English vessels and their two prizes would make their way out of the roadstead as well as might be in their shattered state.

Once out of the bay, the uninjured vessels of the plate fleet would be able to tow their companions in misfortune.

At sight of the approaching boats, containing the victorious English, the crews of the plate ships were seized with uncontrollable panic, and many of them incontinently jumped overboard, whilst the remainder hurriedly lowered their boats and pulled shoreward, anxious only to escape by any means from so terrible a foe. And this they were allowed to do without let or hindrance from the English, as the latter had already quite as many prisoners as they could conveniently look after.

The vessels were boarded, and sail made; and presently the enraged population of La Guayra had the bitter mortification of seeing the plate ships sail out of the roadstead in the possession of the English.

They swore vengeance, deep and awful, should any of those “pirates” as they always termed the English adventurers ever fall into their hands; but the latter were equally ignorant of and indifferent to such threats.

The vessels, injured and uninjured, in due time gained the outside of the roadstead, and there hove-to, in order to effect temporary repairs.

Meanwhile Cavendish had resolved to jury-rig his vessels, and sink the two armadas in full view of the town, to make the defeat and capture still more bitter to the Spaniards.

The Spaniards were transferred from the Sotomayor and the Méjico to the English fleet, and at daylight the warships were sunk in full view of the town. The English fleet then anchored, and proceeded with their work of repair; whilst, for safety’s sake, a prize crew was put on board each of the plate ships, which were then sent away to the former hiding-place at the little bay down the coast.

Whilst the repairs were going forward, Cavendish held another council, at which it was resolved to send an expedition by night to attack La Guayra itself. He argued that the Spaniards would deem them content with the capture of the plate ships, and would never expect them to land and attack the city. They would be taken by surprise; and, as the crowning event of the successful enterprise just executed, he would sack and burn the town, “to give the Spaniards something to remember him by”, as he phrased it.

The sailors were only too delighted at the idea of attacking their enemies again, as also at the prospect of the plunder to be obtained at the looting and sack of the city.

The boats were therefore lowered over the side of the ships remote from the town, and lay under the vessels’ lee during the day, in readiness for the attack that night.

All day long the repairs were gone on with, and after nightfall torches and lanterns were lit, to deceive the Spaniards into believing that they were working hard all through the night, and so lessen their suspicion as to the probability of any further attack.

A keen watch was kept on the town all day long, to discover whether any preparations were being made to resist attack, but nothing of the kind could be discovered.

Evidently the Spaniards, as Cavendish had anticipated, were lulled to security by the supposition that the English, having secured the plate fleet, would have no reason or incentive for returning, and fondly hoped that, as soon as the repairs to the ships were finished, they would sail away; and that would be the last they would see of the heretic dogs.

But they little knew the character of Cavendish; he was not the man to abandon any enterprise upon which he had once entered. It was a principle of his to inflict the greatest possible amount of damage on the enemy that he could; and meanwhile the town of La Guayra still remained uninjured.

Therefore so ran his argument La Guayra must be sacked and laid in ashes before he could consider his duty as thoroughly finished.

As a consequence, shortly after midnight the boats of the fleet stole silently out from under the sheltering lee of their parent vessels, and made swiftly and noiselessly, with muffled oars, for the town.

Roger and Harry, ready as ever for an adventure, no matter how dangerous it might be, were in the boats, and keeping a sharp lookout ahead; for by this time there were but few lights to guide them, the whole city being wrapped in darkness.

Everything ahead of and around them was perfectly quiet; not a sound disturbed the still night air save only the scarcely audible ripple of water under the boats’ bows as they swept gently shoreward.

Presently there was a grating of pebbles under their keels, and the boats stopped dead.

The crews silently disembarked, and all stood still for a few moments, listening intently to ascertain whether the noise of the boats grounding on the beach had been heard. But no sound came to them, and, after waiting a little longer to make certain, the boats were gently pushed off again, each in charge of a couple of hands to take care of them, and the marauders proceeded up the beach, soon arriving on the road that ran the whole length of the town at the edge of the shingle.

The first thing to be done was to obtain possession of the fort; and, feeling their way as best they could in the dense darkness, they set off in the direction in which they knew it lay.

Up the hill they marched, and presently a black mass, somewhat darker than their surroundings, showed itself against the sky. They were there.

Stealing quietly round, they searched for the gateway, which they soon found.

Everything was now ready for the attack, and the officers went silently among the men to discover whether all were present, when it was found that not a single man was missing, or had lost his way in the dark.

Two sacks ready filled with powder, tightly pressed down, and tied at the mouth, were now brought forward.

They were placed in position against the ponderous iron-bound door, a train was laid to them, and the men then retreated to a safe distance and lay down, waiting for the explosion.

Presently there was a flicker of light as the spark was struck, and at the same moment Roger and Harry grasped hands for a second, for bloody work was about to begin.

There was a splutter, a stream of fire ran along the ground, and, as they gazed, an enormous flash of brilliant white light blazed up, nearly blinding them, followed by a deafening report and a tremendous concussion that seemed to make the very earth tremble. And with it came the sound of wrenching iron, cracking timber, and the crash of falling masonry, and from the interior of the fort the clamour and outcry of the sudden awakening of its occupants.

But the English, with no cheer or shout to announce their approach, leaped to their feet, dashed across the intervening ground, and plunged over the fallen masonry and wreckage of the gate into the interior of the fort and into the dim radiance of hastily kindled lanterns.

Here and there they found a man, only half-awake, confusedly running to ascertain what might be the origin of the uproar, and him they cut down at once. From room to room they went, giving no quarter knowing that they themselves would receive none, and one by one the unhappy Spaniards were killed.

There was no organised resistance; it was every man for himself, for they had been taken most completely by surprise.

Roger, with Harry and a few more, ran at once up aloft and came out upon the battlements, where with mallet and spike they industriously proceeded to render the guns useless.

Into the touch-hole of every gun a spike nail was driven as far as it would go, thus effectually preventing the possibility of the weapon being fired until the spike was drilled out, which would necessitate the expenditure of at least an hour of hard work.

In a very short time every gun was effectually spiked, and, the capture of the fort being by this time completely accomplished, the men formed up again outside, and descended at the double to the town, which was now thoroughly awakened and alarmed.

The cathedral was to be the next place of call, the object being to remove the gold and silver plate with which it was known to be furnished.

Meanwhile the tocsins were being sounded. The brazen voices of the church bells pealed out high above all the other clamour. To add to the confusion and terror, the English halted, and, fixing their arquebuses, fired a volley into a square where some troops seemed to be mustering.

Immediately upon the crash of the volley came cries and screams from the terrified populace, bearing eloquent witness to the execution wrought by the flying bullets. Then, picking up their weapons, the English flew like fiends through the town, cutting down all who had the temerity to oppose them.

The cathedral was soon reached, and they entered it.

Lights were glimmering far up the aisles, just lit by the trembling priests, who had come in by ones and twos to find out what all the uproar was about. But the English pressed on, undeterred by their presence, and, moving up the long chancel, reached the altar.

Two or three seamen made their way to the belfry, and, loosing the bell-ropes, in the madness of their excitement began to ring the bells in the steeple; and presently, clang, clang, clang, came from the tower as they hauled on the ropes. Rushing from one bell-rope to another, they started every bell in the steeple ringing, with an effect that was appalling and terrible.

As the bells gained momentum, and swung on their beams, so did the ropes attached to them fly up and down through their appointed holes in the belfry roof, with ever-increasing velocity.

Now they began to twine round each other like living, twisting serpents, and the sailors pulling them had to spring quickly aside to avoid being caught by the flying and coiling ends.

Clang! clang! The sound of the bells now became a mad jangle, and the steeple fairly rocked to their swinging.

Everywhere the people were pouring out of their houses in terror and panic, not knowing whither to turn for safety.

Those who were below in the church were now tearing all the gold and silver ornamentation from the altar, and the communion plate was scattered on the floor of the chancel.

Vainly the frightened priests strove to stay the work of destruction and violation; the seamen were deaf to all entreaty, and cut and tore the silken hangings from the altar, wrapping the costly fabric over their own tarry and soiled clothing. Every man plundered for himself only, and would allow none to rob him of his intended spoil.

Above the altar stood a life-sized figure of the Blessed Virgin Mother, exquisitely modelled in solid gold, and clothed in rich fabric that was adorned with precious stones innumerable. The sailors saw it, and leaped one after another upon the altar, drawing their swords and hacking off the gems, whilst the priests covered their eyes with horror at the desecration and sacrilege.

The eyes of the figure consisted of two magnificent sapphires of great size, and, being unable to reach these with their swords, the sailors put their weapons behind and under the image, and with a few violent wrenches it came crashing to the ground with a thunderous noise.

As it fell, from above them in the belfry came a most awful, piercing, and agonising scream of anguish. It rose in one shrill cry above every other sound, and echoed, long-drawn out and ghastly, among the dim arches of the roof high above them.

The fearful cry rose and fell, while all below stood still, frozen into silence by the utter horror of the sound. It was as the voice of a lost soul in the most dreadful torment. As suddenly as it had arisen it ceased, and it was now noticed that the tenor bell was no longer clanging its deep mellow voice above them in the steeple.

An old priest stepped out from among his brethren.

“Cease, ye wicked men!” cried he in excellent English. “Cease, ye heretics and sacrilegious dogs, ere worse befall ye! That awful shriek was the despairing cry of a soul torn from its body in awful torment. Take warning, ye, from that man’s dreadful fate; for a man it was, although ye might have deemed the voice that of a devil!

“I can tell ye his doom. He was caught up by the whirling ropes of the bells which ye have rung to your own confusion, and his body has been torn to pieces in the pipe through which the bell-rope runs. Take warning, I say, and leave this sacred place in peace!”

He spoke no more, for one of the officers, fearing the effect his words might have on the superstitious seamen, seized him by the shoulders and hustled him down the long aisle of the building and through the door into the street.

Harry and Roger could not bring themselves to take part in the shocking work of desecration, and were standing some distance away, surveying the scene with disgust, when suddenly above the bestial shouts and uproar came the cry: “Save yourselves, lads, run! There is no time to lose; the church is on fire! Run! Run!”

Startled amid their work of destruction, the men paused and looked round to see whence the voice had come, but could not discover its whereabouts.

As they looked, however, columns of smoke were seen drifting about the building and issuing from the crevices of the roof and walls.

Evidently the alarm was genuine, by whomsoever given, and the sailors made for the doors. Those who had overturned the golden figure still clung to their booty, and, raising it in their arms, half-carried and half-dragged it away with them by main force.

It was a scene of the most utter confusion; some staggered away overladen with gold and silver cups, others with costly silks and fabrics, whatever most appealed to their erratic taste.

When nearly all were out of the building, Roger and his friend awoke to the fact that they were being left alone, and ran forward to escape while there was time; but, even as they turned to go, the ground seemed to fall from beneath their feet, and they plunged down, down, until they struck the hard ground below, the shock causing them to lose consciousness.