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Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 42

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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

"Could not have happened better," said the lieutenant, as he was put in possession of all particulars. "The accident happened well, and gave them a lesson in our strength that may make them think twice before attacking us."

"Then you think they will attack us?"

"Sorry to say I have no doubt about it, and since I have been lying here I have come to the conclusion that it would be better to bring that upper gun down, and mount it about twenty feet from the other. The attack must come from the lower end. If, however, they could land, and tried to scale the rocks at the top of the gap, you would have to defend the upper battery the best way you could. Even if you had a gun there you could not get more than one shot. Haul it down at once."

Syd went off and communicated the result of his conversation to Roylance and Strake.

"Yes, I think he's right," said the former. "Eh, Strake?"

"Right, sir; why of course he is. I felt that when we got the guns up, only it warn't for me to give my 'pinion. Speaking in parabolas like, what I say is, that the t'other gun's worth twopence up there, but down here it 'll be worth a hundred pound or more. Start at once, sir?"

"Yes, directly.--Roylance, will you see to making a platform and running up a breastwork, while the bo'sun gets down the gun?"

All hands were soon at work, and meanwhile Syd had gone up to the flagstaff with a glass to see that the boat was half-way back to the French frigate.

"What will they do?" thought Syd. "Make sail and come and batter us with their guns, or send out three or four boats?"

He waited patiently till the Frenchmen were alongside, and he watched the officers through the glass go on the quarter-deck and make their report to their captain.

"Now, then," said Syd, half-aloud, "which is it to be--boats, or come up abreast of us?"

"Make sail, sir," said Rogers. "They're coming down on us to give us a dusting with their guns. There'll be some chips o' rock flying far to-night.--And something more for you to do, my lad," he muttered to himself, as he recalled the lieutenant's injury.

Syd made no answer, and stood watching the French vessel's sails gradually begin to fill and make her careen over.

"Here she comes," said Rogers; then, respectfully, "They won't have half time to get that gun into place, will they, sir?"

"No, Rogers, no," said Syd, thoughtfully; "but look, she's changing her course."

It was so indeed, for the French frigate curved gracefully around, and went off on her old course toward the town of Saint Jacques.

Syd rubbed his eyes and stared, while Rogers in his excitement slapped both his legs, shouting derisively--"Yah! Cowards! G'ome!" and then darted to the flagstaff and began to haul the colours down a few feet, and just as his young officer was about to stop him, seized the second line and jigged them up again in a sort of dance that was intended in mockery of the captain and crew of the departing frigate.

"That will do there," cried Syd, sharply.

"Beg pardon, sir," cried the sailor, starting away from the flagstaff; "but for them to go away like that. The old chaps aboard were always bragging that they could lick three Parlyvoos, but arter what I've seed to-day, I'm ready to tackle six. I don't say I'd lick 'em, but I'd have a good try."

"Don't judge them too soon," said Syd, quietly; and he went down to the hospital and reported everything to the lieutenant.

"Well," he said, "what do you think of it, Mr Belton--that you've frightened them away with one gun?"

"No, sir; I think they've gone for help."

"Or else to report, and perhaps deliver despatches."

"Yes, sir; think we shall have them back?"

"Not a doubt about it, Mr Belton. We laugh at and brag about our superiority over the Frenchmen; but with all their chatter and gesticulation and show, they know how to fight, and can fight bravely and well. Get your other gun ready and keep the sharpest of look-outs, as they'll be down upon you before you know where you are. What's the matter yonder," he continued, raising his head and listening; "Mr Terry in hot water again? We don't want trouble among ourselves. You are wanted there, commandant."

Syd hurried out and found Terry up by the battery he had had in charge, furiously refusing to let the men under Roylance remove the gun.

"Ah, you are there," he cried, savagely, and with his face convulsed with passion. "It is a trick of yours to deprive me of my chance of distinguishing myself in this wretched hole."

"It is nothing of the kind, Mr Terry," said Syd, quietly; "but are you mad to go on like this before the men?"

"I should be mad if I held my tongue, and let every puppy of a boy be placed over me to insult me. I say the gun shall not be moved."

"It is for the proper defence of the place."

"It is a piece of insolence to annoy me."

"You would have charge of the gun in its fresh place."

"I don't believe it," cried Terry, in his rage. "This is the gun's place. It shall not be moved."

"Silence, sir!" cried Syd, flushing up, and something of his father's stern way giving him an older and firmer look. "I gave orders for the gun to be taken down. Mr Roylance, be smart with your men."

"It shall not be done," cried Terry. "I say--"

"And I say, sir," said Syd in an angry whisper, "that if you are not silent, I'll put you in arrest; yes, and tied hand and foot for your treachery of an hour or two ago."

Terry's jaw dropped, and he turned ashy in hue as he shrank away.

"Look here, sir," continued Syd, "you will no longer have charge of that gun, but act under Mr Roylance's orders when I am not there. Fight like a man, and do your duty, and I may forget to report your conduct to the captain. Go on as you are behaving now, and everything shall be known."

A curiously vindictive look shot from Terry's eyes as his hand involuntarily played with the butt of the pistol he had in his belt.

Syd saw it, and continued--

"Another such threat as that, sir, and you will be disarmed."

Terry walked away and stood aside, gazing out to sea, while Syd could not help thinking that if his messmate had a favourable opportunity and could do it unseen, he would not scruple to use his pistol, or to push him over the steep cliff.

The thoughts were dismissed directly and forgotten in the busy toil, the men rigging up the tackle, dismounting the gun, and packing it once more in one of the water-casks, ready for rolling down to the new platform, which was slowly progressing, but not yet ready for its reception. So the one party was piped to refreshments, after which, the place being declared sufficiently advanced, the second party took the place of the first for rest and food, while with a cheer the gun-carriage was dragged below, then the tackle was rigged over it, and the gun rolled down, hauled into its place, and by the time darkness had quite set in, the fresh one-gun battery was in working order.

"Where's Terry?" said Syd, about this time.

"Sulking," said Roylance, laughing. "What did you say to him? You are getting an awfully great fellow, Belton, to calm him down like that. I say, how old are you?"

"Nearly seventeen. Why?"

"Are you sure it isn't a mistake?"

"Quite."

"Because you are going on over this like a fellow of twenty-seventeen. What do you think one of the men said just now?"

"How should I know?"

"He said that when this little job was over you ought to be promoted and have a ship of your own, and old Strake turned upon him sharply to say, 'Well, why not?'"

"I? A ship!" laughed Syd; "and this is my first voyage. Why, you have been three."

"Yes, but then your people have always been sailors, and it's born with you. My father's a clergyman. Well, when you do have a ship by and by, if you don't have me for first luff, I'll call you a brute."

"Wait twenty years, then, till I get my ship," said Syd; and he went off to see to the watch. _

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