Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop > This page
Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 51. Laying The Train |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. LAYING THE TRAIN The dangerous preparations were soon made, and Tom May's and his comrades' hands were plainly seen trembling as they handled their kegs. "Look at that now, sir," said the big sailor. "Did you ever see such a set o' cowards in your life?" "Cowards, Tom? Never," said Murray, who was all of a quiver too. "More did I, sir. I wouldn't ha' believed I could ha' been in such a shiver and shake. I supposed it'd be for fear we shouldn't be ready for the warmint; but it don't look like it, do it?" "Yes, Tom, for your hands are steady enough now you've done." "Well, I hope so, sir," said the man, "because it seems such a bad example to the lads, and they've all ketched it. Hullo, darkie! What, are you shaking too?" "Yes, Massa Tom," replied the black, with his teeth chattering. "Caesar drefful frighten we no get the gunpowder go off when Massa Huggin man come. You let Caesar take lilly barrel now and light um, massa." "Why, here's another awfully cowardly chap, Mr Murray, sir. It's a rum un, arn't it?" "You make has'e, Massa Tom May; not talkee so much palaver," cried the trembling black, seizing hold of one of the barrels and hoisting it upon his shoulder. "You bring candle; set light." "No, no, Caesar," cried Murray. "Not ready yet. Wait." The man parted with the little keg unwillingly, and stood with his hand to his ear straining his neck out of the window, and listened. "Massa Huggin man come along," he panted. "Well, we're ready for them, my coal-dust messmate." "Hush!" whispered Murray. "Who's that calling?" For a voice reached them from the next room. "It's Mr Roberts, sir. Ahoy, there! Coming, sir." Murray ran through the opening to where the middy was lying trying to make himself heard. "Were you calling, Dick?" said Murray, his voice still trembling with excitement. "Calling? Yes! Shouting till I was hoarse. I could hear. You've got powder now. Bring some here, and the fellows' muskets. I can load if I can't do anything else." "Yes, bring powder," said another voice, one, however, that sounded very weak and faint. "I think I can reload, too, for the lads." "No, no, Mr Anderson," cried Murray excitedly; "leave it all to us, sir. The enemy are coming on again, and there is no time to make fresh preparations." "Ahoy, there, Mr Murray! Now's your time!" "Off with you, my lad, and Heaven help you!" groaned the lieutenant. "Roberts, we must bear our lot, and be satisfied with our defenders." Murray was already through the door which separated the two rooms, to find the men waiting, as ready and eager as if not one amongst them had been wounded. "Are they very near?" asked Murray excitedly. "Quite nigh enough, sir," growled the man who was hugging one keg, another able-seaman holding another, while the black grasped a couple of the extemporised shells. "No, no, Caesar," said Murray sharply. "Put those down here; they are for throwing. You lead the way out through the lower door along the path the enemy will come." "Yes sah. You come too?" cried the black. "Yes; quick! Off with you!" The man hurried down the staircase, followed by the two sailors, whose comrades had received their orders to stand fast at the upper window to cover the engineering party. The door was thrown open, and Murray led the way out into the darkness, Caesar holding his hand tightly. "Too late!" said the lad hoarsely; and he drew back. "No, no, sah; plenty time," whispered the black. "Come 'long." "Ay, ay, sir!" growled Tom May. "Sharp's the word." "But we shall be running into their arms, my lad, and lose the powder." "Not us, sir. They can't see us coming, and we mustn't let 'em hear us." "Forward, then," whispered Murray. "What! there, Caesar?" he continued, for the black had run forward a few steps and then stopped short in a dark alley leading towards the side of the plantation and the quarters of the black servants. "Yes, massa. Huggins man mus' come 'long here." There was no time for consideration, for the enemy was evidently approaching cautiously, and before any further order could be given Tom May had plumped down the keg he carried, and his companion was about to follow suit with the other, but Murray checked him. "No, no," he whispered; "one first. Is the top quite open, Tom?" "Open it is, sir," was the reply. "Now then, my lad, take the other keg and lay the train. Sprinkle it thickly, walking backward right away along the path here to the door." "Right it is, sir," growled the big sailor. "No, no, messmate; you keep hold o' the barrel and walk alongside. I'll ladle it out. Mind, all on you, not to tread in the dust. D'yer hear, darkie? Keep back, I tell you; too many cooks 'll spoil the broth." It was rough work, and clumsily executed, but somehow or other, and in spite of the near approach of the enemy, who seemed to be aware of their proximity, the train was effectively laid, and the engineers regained the doorway, just in front of which the train was made to end. "Now for the candle, Tom," whispered Murray. "Here, you, Caesar, where are you going?" There was no reply, for the black had dashed in and run up the staircase, to seize the light from the upper room where the covering party were standing ready to fire from the window. It was a risky proceeding, and Murray stood below in the doorway looking on, but afraid to speak for fear of doing more harm than good, as he saw the faithful black steal rapidly down the stairs, his black fingers enclosing the burning candle like an open lanthorn which threw its glowing fluttering flame upwards over the black weird-looking face with its glistening eyes and white teeth. Every moment the flame threatened to be extinct, but it fluttered and recovered itself as the black tottered down into the hall and then stepped quickly past Murray in the effort to shelter the candle behind the door. "Dah, massa," he panted. "Now say when Caesar set fire to de powder." "No, my man," panted Murray. "I must fire the powder myself. You tell me when." "Caesar say when, massa?" "Yes, and I will fire the train. Now then, you stand close behind me when I step out. You, Tom, stand behind the door, and as soon as I have fired the train Caesar and I will dash back into the house, and you clap to and fasten the door. Do you see?" "No, sir, but I can feel," growled the man; "but won't the 'splosion bust it open?" "Very likely, Tom." "Ay, ay, sir; but right it is, sir." "Now then, Caesar," whispered Murray, thrusting one hand behind the door to seize the candle and place it ready in shelter. "Not yet, massa," said the black, who stood out a couple of yards from the door. "Dey come 'long close, but all 'top now." "Ah, they have found the powder keg," ejaculated Murray. "No, sah. Dey all close 'longside and wait for more Massa Huggin man." "Then I will not fire yet." "No, sah. Caesar fink dey watch see Murray Frank, want know what um do. All talkee palaver. No fire yet." "I must fire soon," whispered the lad, in a strangely excited tone of voice, which sounded as if he were being suffocated. "No; Murray Frank not fire yet," whispered the black, in eager tones. "Wait plenty more Huggins man come. Yes," he whispered, as a burst of voices as of many of the enemy hurrying up could be heard; and then above all came the strangely familiar tones of one who had been leading the newly-arrived party, and Murray started violently as there fell upon his ear in fierce adjuration-- "Wall, why are you waiting? In with you, curse you, and finish them off!" The black started back to retreat into the house, but Murray extended his left hand and caught him by the shoulder. "Where are you going?" he whispered. "Run!" was the reply. "Massa Huggin." "Not yet," whispered Murray. "Is it time now?" The lad's calm words had the effect of steadying the trembling black as they listened, and his voice was no longer the same as he said firmly now-- "Yes, massa. Time now. Fire!" Murray thrust the black from him as he snatched the light from behind the door, took a couple of steps towards the enemy, and stooped down with the candle burning blue and seeming to become extinct as the lad touched the path. Then there was a bright flash as the powder caught, sputtered and began to run, lighting up the figure of the midshipman in the act of dashing in through the doorway, a score of bullets rattling after him in answer to an order; and then the door closed with a heavy bang. Darkness within and a blaze of light without, where the voice of the Yankee could be heard shouting orders which rose above the buzzing fluttering noise of the running train. "Hurt, Mr Murray, sir?" "No! Where's the black?" _Crash_! A fierce burst as of thunder, and the just-closed door was dashed in, while the hall and staircase were filled with light. _ |
||