There was a fierce struggle, but the pirate was quick and powerful, and the sentinel was soon dead.

Then, carrying his two jars, Bartholemy climbed swiftly and noiselessly up the short ladder, came out on deck in the darkness, made a rush toward the side of the ship, and leaped overboard.

For a moment he sank below the surface, but the two air-tight jars quickly rose and bore him up with them.

There was a bustle on board the ship, there was some random firing of muskets in the direction of the splashing which the watch had heard, but none of the balls struck the pirate or his jars, and he soon floated out of sight and hearing.

Kicking out with his legs, and paddling as well as he could with one hand while he held on to the jars with the other, he at last managed to reach the land, and ran as fast as he could into the dark woods beyond the town.
Bartholemy was now greatly in fear that, when his escape was discovered, he would be tracked by bloodhounds,--for these dogs were much used by the Spaniards in pursuing escaping slaves or prisoners,--and he therefore did not feel safe in immediately making his way along the coast, which was what he wished to do.