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Sail Ho! A Boy at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 23 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. The companion-way was so black that we were completely hidden, and I heard Mr Frewen draw his breath with a soft hissing sound, as if he now grasped the fact that a better chance was to be afforded to us of mastering the leader of the mutineers, who came right to the shattered entrance, and appeared to be about to enter, but stopped short listening for a sound, but for a few seconds there was none. Then all at once in a muffled way we heard Mr John Denning say a few words in an angry impatient tone, for the wind had lulled for a few moments. Then there came the low murmur of Miss Denning's voice, and directly after the whistling of the wind again. Jarette was not two yards from us, and if he had taken another step, I had made up my mind to fling myself upon him and cling with all my might to his legs, while the others seized him by the throat and arms. I say this, for we compared notes afterwards. It was not to be, for he came no farther; but apparently satisfied that all was right, he turned sharply and went forward, and we could from time to time make out his voice among the others as he gave orders to the men. "Another opportunity gone," said Mr Frewen. "We ought to have leaped upon him." "Better luck next time," said the mate. "He cannot stay forward long. He is seaman enough to know that his place is at the wheel." "Then at all costs we must have him when he returns." "And what then?" said the mate. "You do not mean to kill him, I suppose?" "Oh no; of course not." "Then I should place the door of one of the cabins wide open, and prop it. Then as soon as we have mastered and disarmed him, bundle him inside and keep him a prisoner." "Yes; excellent," said Mr Frewen. "I'll open mine at once." He crept cautiously across and opened the door to its full extent, and, as he told me afterwards, he placed a heavy case of instruments against it, so that it should not swing to again from the motion of the ship. The next minute he was back, and we were watching and waiting as the ship laboured terribly, the sea being now terrific; but, as Mr Brymer whispered, everything possible had been done, and she was under close-reefed storm canvas. "I couldn't have done better myself there, but the men at the wheel are steering very wildly." There was silence again, and as I listened for a voice, the lanterns forward swung to and fro, and so much water came aboard that I fully expected to see them extinguished, when all forward would have been in darkness. "Is he never coming again?" whispered Mr Frewen at last. "Oh yes, he'll come," said Mr Brymer. "They've got the grog forward there, and perhaps he has gone below." "Then why not crawl forward and clap on the forecastle-hatch?" "Because it will be far safer for us to secure their leader; and, besides, by closing up the forksle you might shut in our friends as well." "Yes, quite right," replied Mr Frewen, and we waited still, with the wind shrieking amongst the cordage, and the night appearing blacker than ever. Thud! Plash! A heavy wave had struck the bows, and the spray came hissing and rushing along the deck after deluging the ship forward. "I'm certain that my poor fish will all be killed by the salt water, Dale," whispered Mr Preddle, but I only made an impatient movement, for I was trying to hear what Mr Brymer whispered to the doctor, who did not hear the remark, and said-- "What?" "I say that was bad steering, and if I were in command, there would be a row." Thud! Splash! This time the water must have curled over in a perfect deluge, for we could hear it hiss and roar amongst the cordage on the leeward side, and stream out of the scuppers. "That must fetch him up if he is below," whispered Mr Brymer, and sure enough the next moment we heard his voice shouting furiously at the men at the wheel, though we could hardly make out a word he said. "Look out! Here he comes!" "To the wheel, not here," said Mr Frewen. "Shall we--" There was not time to say more, for we caught an indistinct glimpse of the figure in oilskins, as, balancing itself as well as it could, it made for the ladder on the starboard side; but just then the ship gave a tremendous lurch, and our enemy missed the ladder, nearly fell, but saved himself, and consequent upon the impetus with which he was moving, darted right in through the companion-way. The next moment he was down on the deck, making a half-stifled sound, and held fast while a revolver and knife were taken from a belt beneath his oilskin. Then his hands were bandaged behind his back, his legs treated to bonds, and he was dragged into the cabin, while we stood panting over him. "Look here," said Mr Frewen then, in a hoarse voice; "we are going to lock you in this cabin, but mind, we're all armed--feel that!--it is the point of a revolver--and I swear to you by all that is holy, if you make a sound I'll shoot you as I would a dog." He made a curious, half-choking sound, and we drew back out of the cabin and the door was shut and fastened. "Have you got his knife and pistol, Brymer?" "Yes. All safe. Now then, forward silently till we are close upon them, and then give your signal--a whistle, isn't it?" "Yes." "Give it sharply; it will do for your friends as well as for us. Then fire if there is the least resistance, close with them, and let's get them under hatches. But I beg pardon, sir; you are in command." "Nonsense! You could not have given better advice." "But they will not show much fight. Without their leader they will be like sheep." I could not help hoping that they would turn out to be like sheep, and leave it to us to play the sheep-dog with them. "Now then, one more word," said the mate. "It would have been better to divide, and part go to starboard, the rest to port, but we are so few." "Yes, let's keep together," said Mr Frewen, "and make our rush. Creep forward half-way, then I'll whistle, and we must do our best. Ready, Mr Preddle?" "Yes, sir, I'm ready; but I'm afraid you must not expect much from me. I'll hit as hard as I can though." "That will do. Now, gentlemen, forward!" The wind shrieked more loudly than ever as Mr Frewen gave the word, and with our pistols ready we crept forward with no little difficulty toward where the lanterns swung, keeping together, and moving slowly so as to keep our feet. Before we were half-way toward the bows we could see a dull light glowing from the forecastle-hatch, and a couple of dark figures standing in front of it, so that their oilskin-covered bodies stood out big and grotesque. That was our goal, I felt, and I knew that if we made a bold rush those two could easily be driven down, while I hoped that the others would be too much cowed to fight. Mr Frewen and the mate were first, Mr Preddle and I behind, and I was just thinking that it was nearly time for the whistle to be blown and the rush made, while I thought, too, how easy it would be to make a mistake and injure a friend with our pistols, when the ship gave such a lurch that we all went heavily against the bulwarks, to which we clung to save ourselves from a heavy fall, then bang, _splash_, rose a wave over the bows, and a voice which came from one of the figures by the light from the hatch yelled forth a torrent of oaths as he asked what the men were doing at the wheel. I turned cold all down my back without the help of the spray, for it was Jarette's voice we heard, and we had bagged the wrong fox! For a moment we clung together there in the darkness as the ship hung over to port; then, as she righted herself, Mr Frewen, feeling desperate, and that we could not now go back to our place, clapped the boatswain's whistle to his lips; it sounded shrilly above that which we could hear in the rigging, and we made our rush. Describe what followed! How? I remember the rush; feeling mad and desperate, and hearing, as we closed with half-a-dozen men, a couple of shots fired quickly one after the other. Then I was in the middle of a savage wrestling match, in which men were striking blows with all their might, and a voice was yelling order after order in French, while we were getting, I felt, the worst of it. I had seized a man, who whisked me off my legs and whirled me round, but I stuck to him till he flung me heavily on the deck, and then I wound my arms round his legs so firmly that as the ship lurched again he fell and rolled over with me into the scuppers, where he roared at me to let go before he used his knife. I need not add that he did not say use his knife, for his language was far stronger, and he made a horrible reference to my throat. But I was wound up then; the fighting instinct had been roused, and holding on more tightly, I made use of my teeth as well, but not in his flesh. Meanwhile I had a misty notion of the fight going against Mr Frewen and my two friends, and just then Jarette yelled in French, and directly after in English-- "Heave them overboard if they don't give in!"--when rush! crack! two men who had been forward sprung at the Frenchman, who went down heavily, but rose on one arm, and as I clung to the man in the scuppers I could see the chief mutineer clearly. For he was between me and the light, and I started as there were two loud pistol reports, a shriek, and a man fell with a thud; but the next instant I saw some one spring at Jarette as he was going to fire, and strike with all his force, with the result that he fell backward down the hatch. Then another man was beaten below, and again another, and then the hatch was clapped down and held by Mr Preddle, while another man was dragged along struggling hard till Bob Hampton struck him over the head. "Open the hatch!" he yelled. Mr Preddle obeyed, and a flash of light came out with a loud report as the man was thrown down and the hatch clapped on again. "Here, quick, help!" I shouted, for I was about exhausted. "Where are you, boy?" cried Bob Hampton, and he ran to where the man I clung to was just jerking himself clear. Then he came down upon me with a groan as Bob Hampton struck at him, and, half-insensible, he too was dragged to the hatch and thrown down as another shot was fired. "I'm all right!" yelled Mr Preddle, securing the hatch again. "Where's Mr Brymer?" "Here, help!" came from somewhere forward, and as I struggled up I had a faint view of Mr Frewen and Hampton rushing forward and bringing back a couple more men with pistols held to their heads. I saw that, for the light from the swinging lanterns gleamed upon the barrels. These two men were thrown down, and one more shot came crashing up, but without hurting any one, and then a familiar voice said-- "Here's another!" and Dumlow staggered up, pushing a sailor before him. "You'll pay for this night's work when the noo--" He said no more, for he received a heavy blow in the mouth, and then kicking and struggling with rage, he too was thrown down. "How many more?" panted Mr Frewen. "There's three on 'em forward," growled Bob Hampton. "The look-out man and two more." "Pistols!" cried Mr Frewen, loudly, and then as there was a sharp clicking from mine as well as three others, he shouted--"Now, you men, surrender, or we fire!" "Not us!" came back hoarsely. "Now, lads, rush 'em; they've got no pistols!" Two shots hardly heard in the roar of the storm were fired over the heads of the men who were about to rush forward; but if the reports were faint in the din, the flashes were bright and clear, and in place of charging at us they hung back, and we were upon them in an instant. I say we, for somehow or other I did as the others did, and the men gave in directly and were marched to the hatch, below which jarette could be heard raving at his fellow-prisoners. "Now," cried Mr Brymer, "you know me, my lads; I never say things I don't mean. The moment that hatch is opened, you jump down. If you hesitate I fire." "But old Frenchy will fire up as soon as it's opened." "He will not fire at you." "But he may hit us, sir." "Open that hatch, Mr Preddle," cried Brymer, and he cocked his pistol, Mr Frewen following suit. "That's right, sir; fire too, in case I miss." "But," cried the man, imploringly, "let me stay on deck, and I'll return to my duty." "We don't want you, dog!" cried Mr Frewen. "Down with you!" roared Mr Brymer, as the hatch flew up, and there was a flash and report, which the man waited for, and then leaped. "Down with you!" cried Mr Brymer again, but the other two men hesitated, and were hanging back. The next moment they went down headlong, impelled as they were by Bob Hampton and Dumlow. "There," cried Bob Hampton, as we all stood there breathless with excitement, and quite forgetful of the storm raging round us, "if anybody had told me, Neb, as Barney would have been such a cur, I'd ha' hit him in the mouth for a liar." "Yah!" growled Dumlow, "and I've shook hands with him and called him 'mate' scores o' times. Yah!" "Never mind, gents, we've done it, eh?" cried Bob Hampton. "God bless you both for true men!" cried Mr Brymer, holding out his hands to them, and for a few minutes there was a general hand-shaking all round. "But we're forgetting the men at the wheel," said Mr Frewen. "How many are there? Two?" "Oh, they're a couple o' soft Tommy sort of chaps," said Bob Hampton. "I can settle them two with one hand. That arn't the worst on it, sir; we've got to tackle Barney Blane. No, I won't do it for fear I should finish him, and you'd best steer out o' that job, Neb." "If I don't, I shall sarve him like a wornut, mate." "Dessay you would, my lad. We'll sponge over the two lads at the wheel while the gents does Barney. Hit him, gents, or shoot him somewhere low down, for he desarves it; all I wonder now is as he did not split all about it to old Frenchy." "We could all deal with him," said Mr Frewen. "You two men come with us, and you, Dale, keep guard here with Mr Preddle. A shout will bring us back directly." "Right, sir," I said, in a disappointed tone, and then I brightened up, for he told Dumlow to stop instead. "Don't be long," said Mr Preddle. "I want to see to my fish." "On'y to think, gents," growled Bob Hampton, holding a lantern while Mr Brymer and the doctor thrust fresh cartridges into their pistols, "the skipper--I mean Frenchy--sends Barney aft to speak to the men at the wheel, for they were steering anyhow, and he knowed as this game was going to be played, and--Eh? Well, what are you laughing at, Mr Dale? What have I said wrong?" For I had burst into a roar of laughter, in which Mr Frewen joined. _ |
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