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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 41. Fitz Forgets |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY ONE. FITZ FORGETS The boarding-netting was partially drawn aside, and Fitz noted that more than ever the crew of the schooner looked like well-trained man-of-war's men, each with his cutlass belted on, waiting for the next order, given in the skipper's voice, when the gig's falls were hooked on and she was run up to the davits and swung inboard, as were the other boats, and when the lad sprang on deck he saw that the netting was being lowered down and secured over the gangway. It was plain enough that from the moment the gig had pushed off, all hands had been at work preparing to resist attack if an attempt at capture were made; and once more the middy forgot his own identity as a naval officer in his eagerness and interest in all that was going on. "Oh, one word, Mr Burnett," said the skipper, as he passed where the lad was standing. "Hadn't you better go below? You've got to think about who you are if the Spaniards take us," and then with a good-humoured smile as he read the vexation in the boy's countenance, "Hadn't I better lock you up in the cabin?" "I say, Captain Reed," cried the boy, in a voice full of protest, "I do wish you wouldn't do this. I can't help having a nasty temper, and this puts me all of a tingle. It seems so hard that men should always laugh at boys and think they are cowards. We can't help being young." "Of course you can't, my lad," said the skipper, patting him on the back. "There, I will never tease you again. In all probability there won't be anything serious, but if there is, take care of yourself, my boy, for I shouldn't like you to be hurt." He gave his listener a pleasant nod, and hurried on towards the mate, while Fitz joined Poole, who had nothing now to do, and they occupied themselves in keeping watch for the expected boats and going about amongst the men, whose general appearance seemed to Fitz to be that they were going to some entertainment by way of a treat. But the treat promised to be serious, for rifles were here and there placed ready for use, and close to every man there was a capstan-bar, evidently intended to use as a club, a most effective weapon whose injuries would not prove of a very dangerous type. Fitz whispered as much to his companion, who nodded and then replied-- "Well, that depends on what the lads call the spaniel dogs. The dad doesn't want it to be too serious, of course, but we can't help it if these fellows make our lads savage. You see, we've got cutlasses and rifles, and fellows forget to be gentle if they are hurt." "But we are not at war with Don Villarayo's State." "No," said Poole, "and Villarayo is not at war with our schooner and the men, but if he begins giving us Olivers he must expect to get Rolands back. Those who play at bowls, you know, must expect rubbers, and when Englishmen rub, they rub hard." Fitz half turned away to look astern. "I say," he said, "aren't they a long time coming?" "No; they had a long way to row." "Seems a long time. Perhaps they have thought better of it and gone back." "Think so? Well, I don't. They are sure to come. But I dare say it will be a good quarter of an hour yet--perhaps half." "Well," said Fitz, "for my part, I--" He stopped short, and Poole looked at him curiously. "Well?" he said. "You what? What were you going to say?" "Nothing. You'd only think that I was afraid." "Oh, I know," said Poole. "You were going to say that you hope it won't turn out serious. I shouldn't think that you were afraid. I feel just the same. But you may make up your mind for one thing. We are in the strongest position, and Villarayo's sailors won't be allowed to take the _Teal_. If it comes to bloodshed, it's their doing, mind, and not ours. Now, don't let's talk any more." "Why not?" said Fitz. "I feel as if I must. Perhaps I shouldn't if I were one of your crew, and like that." He pointed quickly to his companion's belt, from which hung a sword, and then quickly touched the flap of the little holster buttoned over the brass stud. "You won't use that, will you?" he said. "Not if I can help it," was the reply. "Help it! Why, of course you needn't unless you like." "Well, I shouldn't like to, of course. But if you were I, and you saw one of these fellows aiming at one of your men, say at old Butters or Chips, setting aside the dad, wouldn't you try and whip it out to have first shot?" Fitz nodded shortly, and for the time being the conversation ceased, while the lads' attention was taken up by the sight of the Camel, who after making a rattling noise as if stoking his fire in the galley, shut the door with a bang, and came out red-faced and hot, wiping his hands prior to buckling on a belt with its cutlass and then helping himself to a capstan-bar. It was only a few minutes later that the bows of a large cutter came in sight, followed by the regularly dipping oars of the crew of swarthy sailors who were pulling hard. The next moment the uniforms of two officers could be made out in the stern-sheets, where they sat surrounded by what answered to marines, and before the cutter had come many yards the bows of its consort appeared. As they came within sight of the schooner a cheer arose, a sort of imitation British cheer, which had a curious effect upon the schooner's crew, for to them it seemed so comic that they laughed; but a growl from the mate made every one intent for the serious work in hand, as at the next order they divided in two parties, each taking one side of the schooner for the defence under command of the skipper and his chief officer. "You understand, Burgess?" said the former sternly. "You will keep a sharp eye on us, and I'll keep one on you. It must be a case of the one helping the other who is pressed." The mate grunted, and the skipper spoke out to his men. "Look here, my lads," he said; "we are not at war, and I want no bloodshed. Use your capstan-bars as hard as you like, and tumble them back into their boats, or overboard. No cutlass, edge or point, unless I give the word." The answer was a cheer, and then all eyes were directed to the boats, which were coming faster through the water now, till, at a command from the foremost stern-sheets, the men slackened and waited for their consort to come up abreast. Another command was given, when the oars dipped faster all together, the boats dividing so as to take the schooner starboard and port. "Not going to summon us to surrender?" said the skipper sharply. "Very well; but I think we shall make them speak." The two boys stood together in the stern, close to the wheel, seeing the boats divide and pass them on either hand; and then with hearts throbbing they waited for what was to come--and not for long. Matters moved quickly now, till the boats bumped and grazed against the schooner's sides, two sharp orders rang out as their coxswains hooked on, and then with a strange snarling roar their crews began to scramble up to the bulwarks, and with very bad success. They had not far to go, for the schooner's bulwarks were very low for a sea-going vessel, but here was the main defence, the nets fully ten feet high and very strong--a defence suggestive of the old gladiatorial fight between the Retiarius, or net and trident-bearer, and the Secutor, or sword and shield-carrying man-at-arms. There was no firing then; the Spaniards seized the net and began to climb, some becoming entangled, as in their hurry a leg or an arm slipped through, while the defenders dashed at them and brought their capstan-bars into use, crack and thud resounding, sending some back upon their companions, others into the boats, while three or four splashes announced the fall of unfortunates into the water. Loud shouts came from the boats as the officers urged the men on, and from each an officer in uniform began to climb now and lead, followed by quite a crowd on either side, some of them hacking at the stout cord with their cutlasses, but doing little mischief, crippled as they were by the sharp blows which were hailed down by the schooner's crew, upon hand, foot, and now and then upon some unlucky head. Chips the carpenter, who was nothing without making some improvement upon the acts of his fellows, made a dash at the officer leading the attacking boat on the starboard side, delivering a thrust with the bar he carried, which passed right through the large mesh of the net, catching the Spaniard in the chest and sending him backwards into the boat. "That's what I calls a Canterbury poke, dear boys," he cried. "Let 'em have it, my lads. The beggars look like so many flies in a spider's web; and we are the spiders." The shouting, yelling, and struggling did not last five minutes. Man after man succeeded the fallen, and then it was all over, the boats floating back with the current until they were checked by those in command, who ordered the oars out and the men to row. But it was some little time before the confusion on board each could be mastered, and the disabled portions of the crew drawn aside. "Well done, my lads!" cried the skipper. "Couldn't be better!" "Here," shouted the mate, "a couple of you up aloft and tighten that net up to the stay. Two more of you get a bit of signal-line and lace up those holes." "Ay, ay, sir!" came readily enough, and the men rushed to their duty. "Think that they have had enough of it?" said Fitz huskily. "Not they," replied Poole. "We shall hear directly what they have got to say." He had scarcely spoken before there was a fierce hail from one of the boats, whose commander shouted in Spanish to the skipper to surrender; and upon receiving a defiant reply in his own tongue, the officer roared-- "Surrender, you scum, or I'll order my men to fire; and as soon as you are my prisoners I'll hang you all, like the dogs you are." "Back with you to your ship, you idiot, before you get worse off," cried the captain sternly. "Dogs can bite, and when English dogs do, they hold on." "Surrender!" roared the officer again, "or I fire." "At the first shot from your boat," cried the skipper, "I'll give the order too; and my men from shelter can pick off yours much faster than yours from the open boat." "Insolent dog!" roared the officer, and raising a revolver he fired at the skipper, the bullet whistling just above his head. In an instant Poole's revolver was out, and without aiming he fired too in the direction of the boat. He fired again and again over the attacking party's heads, until the whole of the six chambers were empty, and with the effect of making the Republican sailors cease rowing, while their boats drifted with the current, rapidly increasing the distance. The order to fire from the boats did not come, but the second boat closed up to the first, and a loud and excited colloquy arose, there being evidently a difference of opinion between the leaders, one officer being for another attack; the second--so the skipper interpreted it from such of the words as he could catch--being for giving up and going back to the gunboat for advice. And all the time, both boats still in confusion drifted farther and farther away; but at last the fiery leader of the first gained the day; his fellow gave up, and when the order was given to advance once more in the first boat he supplemented it in the second, and a low deep murmur rose up. "Why, Fitz," whispered Poole, "they have had enough of it. The mongrels won't come on." "Think so?" whispered back Fitz, gazing excitedly over the stern, while Poole's fingers were busy thrusting in fresh cartridges till his revolver chambers were full. "Yes, it's plain enough," cried Poole, for the voices of the officers could be heard angrily threatening and abusing their men; but all in vain. There was the appearance of struggles going on, and in one boat the sun flashed two or three times from the blade of a sword as it was raised in the air and used as a weapon of correction, its owner striking viciously at his mutinous men. "Ah!" ejaculated Fitz. "That's done it. They are more afraid of him than they are of us--of you, I mean. They are coming on again." For the oars were dipping, making the water foam once more, as the crews in both the boats began to pull with all their might. But only half; the others backed water, and directly after the boats' heads had been turned and they were being rowed back as hard as they would go, till they disappeared round the first bend to the tune of a triumphant cheer given in strong chorus by every man upon the _Teal_. Just at that moment Fitz clapped one hand to his cheek, for it felt hot, consequent upon the thought having struck him, that in his excitement he had been cheering too. That burning sensation was the result of a hint from his conscience that such conduct was not creditable to a young officer in the Royal Navy. _ |
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