Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Middy and Ensign > This page
Middy and Ensign, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 40. How Private Gray Went A-Fishing |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FORTY. HOW PRIVATE GRAY WENT A-FISHING Private Gray had hard work to seem composed as he went away to execute his orders. The remarks of Captain Smithers had come like an endorsement of his own suspicions, and in imagination he saw the island given over to violence and rapine, as a large force of savage Malays, who resented the coming of the English, took advantage of the present state of weakness and carried all before them. He felt as if a strange pallor was taking the place of the ruddy, sunburnt hue of his face, and he turned sick as he thought of Miss Linton and her cousin; of the major's wife, and those of several of the soldiers. It would be horrible, he thought; but the next moment his strength of nerve returned, and feeling that the safety of all might depend upon the energy he displayed in his mission, he hurried on towards the fort. As he went along under the shade of the trees, he recalled that which he had seen when on duty a night or two back, and wondered whether there was any cause for suspicion in the boat that he believed he had seen gliding over the dark river in so shadowy a way. Then he remembered the sounds he had heard; and lastly, he recalled various little things in Abdullah's behaviour, that, trifles in themselves, now seemed to be strangely significant. By this time he reached the fort, on entering which he found Sergeant Lund perspiring profusely, as with big clumsy unsuited hands he fingered a pen, and wrote laboriously his report, while Private Sim, who had not declared himself ill for a week, lay back under a tree fast asleep. He was a very unlovely man was Private Sim, especially when asleep, for at this time he opened his mouth very wide, and around it the busy flies were flitting, evidently taking it for the flower of some new kind of orchis or carnivorous plant, and they buzzed about and around it as if enjoying the fun of going as near as they could without quite getting into danger. That it was a fly-trap one big sage-looking insect seemed certain, for he settled on the tip of Private Sim's nose, and seemed to be engaged in making sudden flights and buzzings at young unwary flies as they came near and into danger, driving them away from the yawning cavern just below. Gray smiled to himself as these ideas flashed across his brain, and then he walked up to the sergeant. "Which--which--that--which--or which--but which--in which--for which--to which--phew! this is hot work. I wonder which would be best. Ah! Gray, sit down here a minute, my lad, and tell me what to say. I've been hours over this report." "I am off on special business directly, sergeant," said Gray; "but let me see." He read over the sergeant's report, and then dictated half-a-dozen lines, which that officer wrote down as quickly as he could. "I shall copy it out afterwards," he said, "neat and clean. Go on, my lad, go on." Gray dictated a few more lines, which ended the report in a short, concise manner, and Sergeant Lund's face, which had been all in corrugations, smoothed itself into a satisfied smile. "That's beautiful," he said, looking up at the private admiringly. "I shall copy that all out in a neat hand, and the thing's done. I say, Gray, how do you do it? Here, what takes me hours, only takes you minutes; and while it's hard labour to me to get it into shape, you run it off like string from a ball. Thanky, my lad, thanky. Now what can I do for you?" "I want a bayonet and a revolver, with ammunition, directly," said Gray. "What for?" "Captain's orders, and private," said Gray, showing Captain Smithers' card, with a few lines pencilled thereon. "Right," said the sergeant bluffly. "I'm not an inquisitive man. Come along, Gray." He led the way into the part of the fort used as an armoury, and furnished the required weapons, which Gray proceeded to button up under his jacket. "Oh! that's the game is it, my lad?" he said. "Then look here; don't take those clumsy tools; any one can see that you've got weapons hidden there. I'll lend you this little revolver; it's handier, and will do quite as much mischief. You can have this dirk, too, with the belt." He brought out a handsome little revolver, about half the weight and size of the heavy military "Colt" previously supplied; and also a well-made, long, thin dirk, with a thin belt. "There, my lad!" he said, buckling on the belt under Gray's jacket, and then thrusting the revolver into a little leather pouch. "There, you are now fitted up sensibly, and no one would be the wiser. Stop a moment, you must fill your pocket with cartridges. Let me have those things back safe, and I hope you won't have to use them; but being ready, my lad, is half the battle. You know I'm never ill." "No, sergeant; you have excellent health." "Right, my lad, I do; and I'll tell you why: I bought the biggest box of pills I could get before I left London. Four-and-six I gave for it, and I have never taken one. Diseases come, and they know as well as can be that I've got that box of big pills--reg'lar boluses--in my kit; and they say to themselves, 'This man's ready for action, with his magazine well stored!' and they go somewhere else." "I see, sergeant," said Gray, smiling. "Good-bye!" "Good-bye, my lad, good-bye. Here, nobody's looking. Sim's asleep. Shake hands, my lad, shake hands. You see, as your superior officer that's a bit of stooping on my part; but, between man and man, I, Sergeant Lund, look up to you, Private Gray, and always feel as if we ought to change places." "Good-bye, sergeant," said Gray, shaking hands warmly with the sergeant, "and I echo your wish that I may not have to use the weapons; keep a sharp look-out." "You leave that to me, private," said the bluff sergeant, and he nodded his head as Gray went off upon his mission. It was rather an awkward one, for he wished to watch Abdullah without exciting his attention. Gray thought, however, that he might prove a match for the Malay, and as he wandered slowly along he began to consider what he should do? The first idea that suggested itself was that he should go to Dullah and sit there and eat fruit; but he discarded the idea directly as too palpable a way of watching. He felt that the Malay would suspect him directly, as he was not a man who was in the habit of visiting the hut. No; he must have some better plan than that, but no idea struck him for a few minutes, till happening to glance at the flowing river, the notion came, and going straight back he was soon after seen sauntering down to the river, armed with a long bamboo, a fishing-line, and some bait, with which he proceeded to fish as soon as he reached the river, but having no sport he began to grow impatient, fishing here and there, but always getting nearer to Dullah's hut, where he remained seated on the bank, fishing very perseveringly to all appearance, and occasionally landing a little barbel-like fellow, known by the natives as _Ikan Sambilang_, or fish of nine, from the number of little barbs beneath its mouth. Gray fished on, never once turning his head to see what was going on at the hut, but making the keenest use of his ears. He made out, while landing a fish or re-baiting his hook, that there were a couple of sampans lying there, in which were some Malays who appeared to be basking in the sunshine; and, soon after, his quick ears told him plainly enough that some one, whom he believed to be Dullah, was approaching. As the Malay came nearer, it was to find Gray's rod lying in the water, and the soldier, apparently overcome by the heat, sitting in a heap, with his chin down upon his chest, regardless of the fact that a little fish was upon its hook, tugging away to get free. Dullah seemed about to speak to the intruder; but seeing this, he refrained, contenting himself with examining Gray closely, and then going slowly back. "That will not do to report," thought Gray. "He saw me fishing, and he came to see what I had caught, and then went away. I must have something better than that." However he had obtained a position whence, unsuspected, he could sit and watch what went on at the hut; for after satisfying himself as he had, it was not likely that the Malay would trouble himself any more about the presence of the private so near his place. So Gray sat there, apparently fast asleep, all through the afternoon. The night closed in as the sun went down rapidly, as is the case near the equator, and still Gray felt that he had nothing to report. Two men rose up once in the sampan nearest to Dullah's hut, but they appeared to lie down again amongst their fruit baskets; and Dullah himself, the last time Gray saw him, was seated, peacefully smoking, by his verandah. As it became dark, Gray ran over in his mind the positions of the various sentries, and thought of how soon he could get help, should he need it; and then, after a little thought, he came to the conclusion that he ought to make his way to the fort, and tell Captain Smithers of his want of success. Just then the glimmering of the stars in the water put an idea in his head. He paused for a moment, as the proceeding was so risky; but on consideration he felt that, if he carried out his plan, he would know for certain whether mischief was brewing. So, giving up his intention of going back to the fort at present, he proceeded to put his plan into execution. _ |
||