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Strang, Herbert

"A Story of the Times of Benbow"

'Twas not a death for the foulest
villain on earth. Heedless of the warning shouts of my crew, I
dashed forward, hoping to reach Vetch in time to rescue him ere he
was sucked under.
To venture directly on the spot where he was sinking would, I knew,
be certain death to me. But when I reached the edge of the cockpit
I flung myself on my face, thinking with my outstretched arms to
seize him. He turned his head and saw me. To this day I shudder as
I see again the anguish, the mute imploring entreaty, that spoke
out of his ghastly features.
I could not reach him.
I crawled forward, and my hands began to sink. Joe Punchard behind
was shouting to recall me. Vetch was up to his shoulders. Half my
body was on solid ground, and with a prayer on my lips I was edging
forward inch by inch to make one final effort, when I felt my feet
held fast; I was hauled back with great violence, just as Vetch,
with a scream that rang in my ears and ran through my dreams for
weeks afterwards and haunts me still, disappeared forever.

Chapter 32: I Become Bold.

The flags were at half mast when we sailed into Port Royal Harbor,
with the pirate brig in our wake; and my dark foreboding was
confirmed by the first news we had when we stepped ashore. Admiral
Benbow was dead. Sturdy fighter as he was, he had contended
gallantly for near a month against the fever that ensued upon the
amputation of his leg, but 'twas not Heaven's will that he should
live for further service to his country.


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