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Sail Ho! A Boy at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14 |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. The result of that thrust was that the door was opened some little distance, and then stopped by part of the pile of chests and other luggage formed into a barricade. There was a dead silence in the saloon as the deep voice of a man was heard speaking in a subdued tone to those with him; and pointing to the sky-light, Mr Frewen stepped back from the defenders of the barricade so as to be ready in case an effort should be made to assail them there. Then the door was rattled loudly, and Jarette's voice was heard speaking angrily to some one without. Again there was silence for a few moments, and then Jarette cried, "Now then; do you hear?" This was followed by a sharp rap on the door, and a voice cried-- "You in the cabin--Captain Jarette says you are to understand that he is now master of this ship, and that no harm will be done to any one if you all give up quietly." "And if we do not," said Captain Berriman, sharply, "what then?" "That is for Captain Jarette to decide," replied the voice, one which made me writhe as I looked from one to the other, wondering whether they recognised who was speaking. "Captain Jarette!" cried our sturdy old officer, furiously. "Look here, sir, don't you insult me by calling that French scoundrel by such a title. And look here, are you making this announcement of your own free will, or are you forced by that contemptible mongrel knave to deliver his insolent message?" "There is no compulsion, captain, and no need for you to call names, without you wish to be punished for your insolence. I am Captain Jarette, sir, and this is my good ship, these are my good brave men. Brave enfans--do you hear, bons enfans. This lad is my young lieutenant, who, like the rest, was sick of the vagaries of such a tyrannical old wretch as you." "You dog!" growled the captain, furiously. "Yes, dog, sir, so don't tease me into biting, or I may use my teeth sharply." "You, Walters," cried the captain, "listen, boy--why are you with these men? Are you a prisoner?" There was silence for a space before Walters said sharply, as if some one had made a threatening gesture close to his head-- "No, I am not a prisoner." "But you have not joined these mutinous scoundrels, sir?" cried the captain, and his voice sounded quite plaintive. Walters made no reply. "Do you hear me, boy? Answer me, you--Oh no, it is impossible." There was a low derisive laugh plainly heard, and then in a mocking tone Jarette said-- "Why don't you answer the good kind captain, Lieutenant Walters?" I started at this, and my lips parted to give utterance to the ejaculation, "Oh!" as I felt I was grasping the reason of my messmate's conduct. Could it be ambition? "What! you're too modest? All right, dear boy, I'll answer for you. Yes, he has joined me, skipper, as my right hand, to help navigate our ship. Do you hear--our ship? He was sick of your bullying and domineering, just as we all were. I had only to ask the lads if they were not tired of being slaves, to have them join me at once. And now you've often talked to me; let me talk to you for your good. No more bad language, please, unless you want to go overboard to join those fools who showed fight last night. Be civil, and you shall be decently treated, till I set you afloat or ashore, as seems best to me. There, we only want to say--don't play the fool, and let the doctor and those passengers think they can do any good by resisting. We don't want to make any of you bleed. What have you been doing to the door to keep it from opening? Have it pulled down, and come out like sensible people." "Don't answer him, sir," said the mate, in a whisper. "Do you hear?" cried Jarette, savagely. "Open the door, or I'll put a few pounds of powder up against it and blow it in." "Come and touch the door," cried the captain, sternly, "and we'll blow your brains out." "What?" cried Jarette, mockingly. "You blow my brains out, fool!--what with?" "This!" said Mr Denning, sharply, and he thrust the barrel of the double gun so quickly through one of the openings left, and also through the narrow slit formed by the partly opened door, that there was the sound of men scuffling back, and a heavy fall, followed by a roar of laughter. We knew the next moment who had fallen, for Jarette's voice came to us in an angry snarl. "You grinning idiots," he cried, "take that!" As he spoke there was the sharp report of a pistol, and a fearful shriek, followed by a fall, and a low moaning as of some one in agony. "Serve him right!" cried Jarette. "Take him below. I'll have the doctor out and send him down." A minute later, after we had listened to the meaning noise growing fainter, Jarette spoke again. "There, Berriman," he said, "that's the stuff I'm made of, so no more nonsense; open the door and come out." "Come and open it yourself, you half-French poodle hound," cried the captain, "and I'll show you what stuff I'm made of, and save you the trouble of going through a trial before reaching the hangman." "You bragging idiot," cried Jarette, fiercely, "open the door, or I'll serve you as we served your miserable Brymer. Do you want to go overboard to join him?" "No; Captain Berriman prefers to stay on board to see me pay you back in your own coin," said the mate. "Now, sir, who's the braggart now?" Jarette was silenced for the moment, but he recovered himself directly. "Oh, you're there then?" he cried. "I must punish some of my lads for only half doing their work. There, you are not so mad as Berriman is. Never mind the fool; open the door, and don't make me savage, so that I am tempted to go to extremities. Do you hear?" he cried, after a pause. "I'll answer for Mr Brymer," cried the captain, "as you answered for that miserable, treacherous boy. No, he will not open the door for you and your pack to come in and wreck and rob. This is our stronghold till some ship heaves in sight, and you and your gang are put in irons to await your fate. I give you all fair warning," he cried, raising his voice so that every one present might hear. "If you wish to escape being shot down, keep away from that door-way; for by all that is holy we will shoot the first ruffian who tries to open it." "Powder!" said Jarette, laconically, "half a keg. It's their own fault, my lads. They shall soon see who is master here." There was a quick movement in the cabin then, and Captain Berriman turned to Mr Frewen. "Try and make more of an opening," he said. "We must have full play for the guns." The doctor nodded and drew back three of the chests a little. "That ought to do," he said. "If one of us stands aside and watches, he can tell the others when to fire." "Ah! but that will require care," said the captain, quickly; "the shot must not be at the powder, or we shall be blown up. Look here, Mr Denning, if you will lend me your gun I think I can pick off the first scoundrel who comes to lay the powder. Perhaps another will come, but if he is dropped they will not try again." "I can shoot them," said Mr Denning, quietly. "I do not like to take life, but I feel that I must fire now." "Then keep your gun, sir," said Captain Berriman; "you need not hesitate, for it is a good deed to rid the earth of such wretches as these, and remember you are fighting for your sister's sake." "Yes," said Mr Denning, in a low voice, almost a whisper to himself, "for my sister's sake,"--and he moved a little to one side, where he could get a better aim and command the outer portion of the door, though it was only through quite a slit. "Hah!" cried Jarette, then in a triumphant tone--"but too much, my lads. We don't want to blow out the side of the ship. She's too much value to us now. Never mind, we'll use half of it to make a good long train. Come, lieutenant, here's a chance for you to distinguish yourself before the men. You shall lay the train." "I? Lay the powder?" cried Walters, so excitedly that the men burst into a roar of laughter. "Bah! Don't show the white feather, boy. It must be done. What? You won't?" "No," said Walters, quickly. "They've got a spite against me, and will shoot me. Let some one else." Jarette uttered a fierce ejaculation. "Stand aside then," he growled, "and let some one who is a man do it. Here, any one of you come and plant this powder, and show young Walters here how brave lads fight." We listened full of excitement for the next moment, as every one watched Mr Denning standing there close to the opening in the barricade, his arms and the gun invisible as he reached through toward the saloon-door. But there was perfect silence, not a movement to be heard, as Jarette burst into a nasty harsh laugh. "Don't all want to do the job?" he cried. "Not one to volunteer? Why, you laugh at me, and call me Frenchy, and brag about your English pluck, and not one man will come forward. Here you, Bob Hampton, your trick's over at the wheel; come and lay this powder." "What, to blow in the cabin-door?" came in familiar tones. "All right, skipper; only I don't know much about powder to make trains. You wet in, don't wild-fire on it?" "Bah! stand aside. Here you, Blane, lay that powder close up door." "What me, skipper? Anything in going aloft and settin' sail; but I know no more about gunpowder than a babby." "Get out of the way, idiot. Where's Dumlow?" "Which here I be," growled that individual. "Here, lay hold of this powder, and plant it, my lad, and then lay a train." "Take that there powder and lay a train?" said the big sailor. "Yes." "Not me." "What! You dare--" cried Jarette. "Lookye here, skipper," growled Dumlow, "don't you get poking that there pestle in my face, 'cause it might go off." "Yes, and it will go off," cried Jarette. "I mean to be obeyed by this crew, as I've just shown you." "Nay, but don't poke pestles in my face; 'cause it make me hit out, and when I hits out I hurts. You ask some one else." "Bah!" ejaculated Jarette; and the word sounded like the short, sharp bark of some cur, as it reached us through the barricade. "Goin' to plant it yourself?" said Bob Hampton. "Yes, you brave Englishman," sneered Jarette. "I'm going to show you what your captain can do." "Shoot the scoundrel!" said Captain Berriman, excitedly. "Impossible, without he comes into sight," whispered Mr Denning. "Can't you see him?" "No; he is pushing a bag of powder right in up against the door, and now sprinkling handfuls of powder up to it." "You come away," said the captain. "Quick, man! Here, every one lie down at the far end of the saloon." I was one of the first to run; but I came back with a can of water, and held it to Mr Frewen. "Can you do anything with that, sir?" I said. "No, my lad. Quite impossible to reach it effectually." I stood staring at the barricade and its openings for a few moments, and then an idea struck me. I had often seen my father's gun cleaned, and when the barrels were detached from the stack, taken them up to look through them, binocular fashion, to see whether they were clean inside. "Take off the barrels from that gun!" I said excitedly. "What for?" cried Mr Frewen; but he did that which was asked all the same, and handed the barrels to me. "What are you going to do?" whispered the captain. "One minute, sir, and I'll show you," I said. "Let me come there, Mr Denning." That gentleman altered his position a little, so that I could reach through the opening and let the ends of the barrels rest upon the deck, close to the powder, which I could just see scattered about the flooring. Directly after, I had raised my can and was carefully trickling the water down through one of the barrels with such good effect that the explosive grains were either saturated or borne away. I had been sending the little stream through for some moments before it was seen, and the first intimation we had of the mutineers noticing our defence was the explosion of a pistol, and simultaneously a dull, cracking sound as a bullet passed through the door and was buried in the trunk behind it. "That don't matter, Berriman," cried Jarette; "we have plenty of powder, and you can't say the same about water." I started at this, for it struck me that I had been pouring precious drops away which might mean life. But I laughed directly after, as I recalled the fact that we had only to drop a bucket out of the stern-windows and haul up as much salt water as we liked. Mr Frewen must have been thinking the same thing, for directly after he and Mr Brymer attached pieces of new halyard to a couple of tin pails, and threw them out of the window, and drew them up full, ready for the next attempt to lay powder. "No need to pour away the precious drops now," said Mr Frewen. "But we must have down some of those chests so as to get at the powder easily." The words had hardly left his lips when there was the sharp report of Mr Denning's piece, followed directly after by a second shot, and the rush of feet upon the deck. _ |
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