Chapter XXII: Juan Cervillo Keeps His Vow

SUDDENLY Drake whispered to the artificer-engineer to drive full speed ahead, and, springing aft, he thrust the helm hard over. Heeling outwards till her coamings were awash, the _Mosquito_ swung round, then, steadying herself, "planed" swiftly through the water with quite two-thirds of her keel in the air. Not till the little craft had put a mile betwixt her and the dumbfounded Cervillo did the lieutenant order speed to be reduced.

"Lads," he exclaimed, "we're in luck! We may not find the _Impregnable_, but yonder is the pirate Cervillo. I had my suspicions, but I managed to get a peep at his lovely features just in time."

"Then they've scuttled the cruiser, sir?"

"Goodness knows. If they've played any dirty tricks with my comrades it will go pretty badly with them. Call up the _Cerberus_, Stevens, and tell them to pile on speed. We'll keep the yacht under observation until the ship arrives."

"Officer commanding acknowledges, sir," replied the wireless man. "Asks for course."

"Tell him nor'-nor'-east, roughly ninety miles; that's good enough," replied Drake. "The _Gnat_ will pick us up before long, and give the _Cerberus_ our position. By Jove! The _Serena_ is actually trying to run away. All right, my hearties, you're only provoking the fun. Rig out the planes, Blake. We'll dance round her a bit."

Rising obliquely, the _Mosquito_ attained an attitude of 500 ft., and, circling swiftly over the doomed yacht, soon showed the pirates the sheer uselessness of seeking safety in flight. Four or five rifle-shots came from the _Serena's_ decks, but unaccustomed to firing at a swiftly moving object immediately overhead, and at an unknown height, the men's aim was erratic. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, Drake gave orders for the aero-hydroplane to ascend another thousand feet.

If ever a man was tempted to use the potential weapons at his command Lieutenant Drake was. He knew that the pirates fully now expected an attack from the sky, and since they had not reverted to their former tactics of displaying their prisoners as a human screen, he naturally and rightly concluded that Fielding, Cardyke, and Coxswain Hardy were no longer in the hands of the desperate ruffians. But although the desire to drop a charge of explosives upon the yacht's deck, and blow the miscreants to a quick and horrible fate, was well-nigh irresistible, Drake could not go against his definite orders. He could only wait, hoping that he might be able to take an active part in the attack upon the pirate yacht as soon as the _Cerberus_ arrived upon the scene.

"_Gnat_ coming up, sir," announced one of the men.

Flying at a tremendous speed and at a great height came the _Mosquito's_ consort, but as soon as she spotted Drake's command she turned and flew southwards in order to get into visible communication with the scout. Meanwhile the _Serena_, her funnel emitting dense columns of flame-tinted smoke, was steaming north-eastwards as hard as she could pelt.

It was a forlorn business, for within forty or fifty miles of her the avenging _Cerberus_ was tearing in her direction at at least fifteen knots more than this yacht; while overhead, like a gigantic hawk, the _Mosquito_ was turning in ever-varying circles above her, so that nothing short of a dense fog could save the pirates at this juncture.

Cervillo's luck was out. The atmosphere still remained perfectly clear; night was a long way off. Within another three hours the pirates must either fight to the last, or submit themselves prisoners.

"There's the _Cerberus_, sir," reported the look-out. "Dead astern."

"Good," ejaculated Drake. "Now the fun will commence in earnest. Tell her that there are no signs of any prisoners, so the sooner she gets the range the better."

Two hours later the scout came within firing distance. Overhead her four tenders--for the remaining two aero-hydroplanes had arrived on the scene--were manoeuvring at a safe altitude in order to observe the effect of the gunfire.

"There she goes!" shouted Drake, as a bright flash came from the fo'c'sle of the scout. With a peculiar screech the twelve-pounder shell tore through the air, passed within fifty yards of the fugitive yacht, as a stern reminder to heave-to, then, ricochetting three or four times, finally disappeared half a mile ahead of the pursued vessel.

Doggedly the _Serena_ held on her course. The primeval instinct to flee until actually caught still lingered in the minds of the pirates, but on certain points their opinions were divided. Cervillo, with several of his men, was resolved to die rather than submit to capture; while Da Silva and the rest of the pirates, still hoping against hope, were inclined to give themselves up and trust that mercy might yet be shown them.

The second shell struck the yacht's fore-mast just below the cross-trees, and with a rending crash the top hamper came tumbling down. Held by the steel shrouds the shattered timber trailed over the side, the drag in the water causing the yacht to slew round.

Thinking that the pirates had given in and were easing down, the _Cerberus_ withheld her fire. But Cervillo had no intention of surrendering. Calling half-a-dozen men to his aid he ran forward and began to hack through the lanyards of the shrouds. Desperately the men worked till the obstruction was cast off, and the doomed yacht resumed her flight.

It was not the intention of the _Cerberus_ to sink her prey. Capture at all costs was the order of the captain. There might be prisoners, and more than likely rich booty stowed underneath her hatches. Could the _Serena_ be deprived of the means of propulsion the boats of the scout would soon settle matters.

Crash! A shell striking the base of the funnel reduced it to atoms, and, tearing away a portion of the deck and bulwarks, sent a dozen of the pirates to their last account. Volumes of smoke poured through the aperture where the funnel casings had been. The yacht reeled violently, then a cloud of steam rushed upwards from her engine-room. One of the cylinders had burst, and the engines were completely disabled.

The _Serena_ swung sound, and floated motionless on the calm sea. As far as could be seen there was no sign of her sinking. Some of the men rushed for the boats, only to be driven back by Cervillo and his officers, who, revolver in hand, did not hesitate to check the rush by the strongest measures. Finding that escape was impossible, the pirates were goaded into active resistance, and, with rifles and pistols, they took refuge behind the shattered bulwarks to await the approach of the scout's boats.

The _Cerberus_ had lost way, and was lying barely half a mile on the _Serena's_ starboard quarter. Into her boats swarmed the active bluejackets, eager to add to the traditions of the Service by capturing the pirates in the good old-fashioned style.

Secretly regretting that he was not taking an active part in the boarding of the _Serena_, Drake decided not to miss a close view of the operations. So the _Mosquito_, her speed reduced until it was only just sufficient to enable her planes to resist the action of gravity, descended to a height of about two hundred feet above the sea, and hovered in circles above the crippled vessel.

So intent were the pirates upon the approach of the boats that the presence of the aerial craft was entirely forgotten. Drake could see that Cervillo was pacing the deck in an irresolute fashion. At one moment he would speak to some of the men and point to their antagonists, at another he would halt hesitatingly at the top of the companion.

Nearer and nearer came the British seamen. Now they were within effective range of the revolvers. One or two of the pirates stood up ready to fire, but Cervillo restrained them, gave one swift, comprehensive glance over the side, and dived down the ladder.

In an instant Drake realised the pirate Captain's intention.

"Back oars all!" he shouted to the boarders. "Back for your lives!" And ordering the planes to be tilted, he placed a safe distance between the _Mosquito_ and the _Serena_.

He was barely in time. With a roar and a fierce blast of flame the yacht's magazine exploded. A dense, black cloud of smoke, mingled with fragments of charred and splintered wood, was hurled high into the air.

Instinctively Drake thrust over the lever actuating the elevating planes, and the aerial craft leapt upwards. The next instant the little vessel was enveloped in an eddying vapour, so opaque that from where the lieutenant stood the bow was lost to view. For a few seconds the _Mosquito_ oscillated violently. Fragments of charred timbers came perilously near the fragile planes. Well-nigh blinded and choked by the dust-laden fumes that, caught by the swiftly whirling propeller, were dashed into the lieutenant's face, Drake lost all idea of what the _Mosquito_ was doing--whether the vessel was soaring or plunging disabled towards the sea.

Then it was like a train emerging from a tunnel; the blackness began to give place to subdued light, till with a whirr the aero-hydroplane cleft the edge of the cloud of smoke, and gained the pure air beyond.

The _Mosquito_ was still ascending, but in her rear, and towering many feet above her, rose the dense pillar of vapour that formed the funeral pyre of the ill-fated _Serena_.

Describing a sharp downward curve, the _Mosquito_ descended till she floated on the surface of the agitated water. Just beyond the fringe of the smoke were the boats of the _Cerberus_, tossing aimlessly upon the angry waves, the oars either trailing listlessly over the side, or else projecting at different angles over the gunwales. Their crew, although unharmed by the explosion, had literally been beaten to the bottom of their respective craft, and were still too dazed to realise what had happened. But of the _Serena_ and her lawless gang no trace was to be seen, save a few pieces of timber floating on the surface. Juan Cervillo and his piratical companions had avoided capture, but no more would the modern buccaneer take toll on the high seas. He had vowed that he would never be taken alive. Unscrupulous though he was, this vow he had faithfully performed.