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Sail Ho! A Boy at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 22 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. As soon as the roar and rush of water had passed, Mr Frewen whispered-- "Another pistol?" "Yes," I said, for I had been hurriedly tearing off the drenched canvas in which it had been wrapped so securely that though the woollen bag in which pistol and cartridges lay was quite damp, as far as I could tell they were none the worse for being dipped again and again into the sea. For there is a capital quality in canvas as a protector; as the material gets thoroughly soaked it swells and tightens, till it is a long way on toward being waterproof; and after carefully feeling the weapon, and examining it in every way we could in the darkness, Mr Frewen expressed his opinion that it was uninjured, and placed it in his breast to dry. "This will do for Mr Preddle," he said, and after listening at the door, where nothing was to be heard but the creaking of the ship's timbers as she laboured on, sounding to me as if at any moment she might come to pieces, my fellow-prisoner tapped softly at the partition, and placing his lips to the opening, called softly upon Mr Preddle. This had to be repeated several times without effect, and it was not until I had taken Mr Frewen's place and jerked a little empty phial bottle through, so that it fell upon him where he was sleeping, that Mr Preddle started up and cried loudly-- "Who's there?" "Hist!" I whispered, and he came quickly to the opening. "Oh, it's you," he said. "I had just lain down, and the noise of the waves prevented my hearing you." "I thought you were asleep," I said dryly. "Asleep? Well, perhaps I was nearly. You've come to tell me that all the water will be tossed out of those trays. Oh, my poor fish!" "I hadn't," I said, "Mr Frewen wants to speak to you. He has a pistol for you ready for when we try to escape." "Oh dear! oh dear!" he sighed. "We shall never try to escape. We're shut in here, and shall be drowned. Is the ship going down?" "No, no; she'll ride it out." "But those men don't know how to manage her, do they?" "I think so," I replied. "I don't half understand big ships, but they seem to be doing what my father would do with a yacht." "Let me come, Dale," whispered Mr Frewen. I drew back, but I was still near enough to hear every word that was said as the pistol was passed through by Mr Frewen. "Take it, and be careful. When it is light, you had better make sure that there is no moisture in the chambers." "But when are we going to try and do something?" said Mr Preddle, in quite an ill-used tone. "I thought you were going to saw out one of these boards." "We are going to act as soon as the word comes from our friends outside. We can do nothing better than be ready." I clapped my hand over Mr Frewen's lips, and forcing myself by him, whispered sharply to Mr Preddle-- "Quick,--lie down!" I had no occasion to warn my companion, for he had seen my reason for checking him, and lay down at the side of the cabin, while I glided into the cot. For I had caught sight of a gleam of light beneath the door, and I had hardly settled myself in my sleeping-place, the noise of the waves and wind covering any sounds we made, when the door was thrown open, and Jarette and two men stood in the entrance, holding up lanterns which made their dripping oilskins glisten. I jumped up directly. "Is she going down?" I asked. Jarette made no reply, but glanced quickly round to satisfy himself that we were not taking advantage of the storm to try and escape, while Mr Frewen rose as if he had expected to be called. "You want me to come and see the captain?" he said quietly. "No," was the abrupt reply, and the men drew back, the door was shut and fastened, and we were once more in darkness, listening to the labouring of the ship as she rose and fell, plunging every now and then head-first into some great wave which broke over her and deluged the decks. The faint streak of light disappeared from under the door-way, and we breathed freely again as there were heavy steps overhead, and I could tell that in all probability Jarette and the others had gone to join the man--or men--at the wheel. "I don't envy that madman his position, Dale," said Mr Frewen. "His mind must be in a pleasant state of anxiety, what with the management of the ship in a storm, his doubts about his prisoners, and the pleasant little fancies he must have about the laws of our country." "I think we're best off after all, aren't we?" I said. "Hush!--he's back again. No--it's Mr Preddle." "Are you people asleep?" came from the partition. "Hush! Go away," I heard Mr Frewen whisper loudly, as after all I found that I had been deceived, for Jarette had evidently come back to spy upon and trap us; for, with my breath held in my excitement, I could hear the rustle of a hand upon the outside of the door, and then a faint clicking and rustling sound, as if the fastenings were being softly withdrawn. "Oh, how I should like to give him a topper!" I thought, as I rose upon my elbow and listened, making out, in spite of the roar of the storm, every movement of our enemy. "Why, if Mr Frewen liked, he could strike him down senseless, and then we should be masters of the ship, for the men would give in if they had no leader." People's minds have a way of running in the same groove when there is anything very particular to be done, and it was so here, for Mr Frewen was thinking, as he told me afterwards, exactly as I did. But now I could hear nothing but the creaking of the ship and the roar of the storm, and I was not sure whether the door had been opened or not. Suppose it had been, I thought, and Jarette was going to do some mischief in the darkness! It was a horrible thought, one which made the perspiration stand upon my forehead, and begin to tickle the sides of my nose, as I listened intently for the next movement, or for the sound of his breathing. But still I could hear nothing, and I longed for a few moments' cessation of the thud of the waves and hiss and splash which followed, just as a billow came over the bows and swept the deck with a tremendous rush and noise. That was what our visitors had been waiting for. The door had only been unfastened. It was now opened with a quick dash, so that the noise it would make might be covered by the storm. Yes; I could mentally see it all now, though everything was black as ink. Jarette was standing in the door-way in his oilskins, for I could hear the crackling sound they made as the noise from the deck and the hiss of the wind came plainer, and then too, drip, drip,--in those moments I could hear the water falling from the coat on to the cabin-floor. It was all in so many moments. He seemed to be listening either for any sound we might make, or for what was passing on deck; and then as he took a step forward into the cabin, there was a sudden rush, a struggle, and for the moment, as my blood ran cold, I thought that Jarette had seized and was about to murder poor Mr Frewen. My hand went to the foot of the cot, and I was dragging out the revolver hidden there, when a hoarse voice exclaimed in a husky whisper-- "Avast! what are yer doing on, Mr Frewen?--you'll choke me." "You, Hampton?" "Ay, at present." "I thought it was Jarette," said Mr Frewen, panting. "Wish it had been, my lad," said the sailor, in the same husky whisper. "My word, you have got a grip! But there, I must get back; on'y look here. There'll never be a better chance. Here's an old bosun's whistle; stuff it in yer pocket, and don't blow it till the right moment. When you do, blow hard, and me, Barney, and Neb Dumlow's with you." "But--" "Butter be hanged, doctor. You've got three pistols, and the door's open. You let out the mate, Mr Denning, and Mr Fishmonger; wait till you think the moment's right, and then down on old Frenchy; whistle hard, and then we'll all make a rush for the others, and drive 'em chock into the forksle, or overboard if they don't mind. Off!" "One moment, Hampton;" but there was a sharp rustling of oilskins, and the man had hurried through the saloon and out on deck, where Jarette's voice could be heard shouting above the din of the wind and sea. In the cabin then for a few moments there was silence, and I stood in that black darkness with my heart beating painfully, waiting for Mr Frewen to speak, and face to face with the thought that in a few minutes I might be engaged in a desperate struggle with a man and his followers, and that they would stop at nothing when attacked. "Why don't you speak--why don't you speak?" I kept saying to myself, with a feeling of anger against the man who was absolutely torturing me by his silence. But it could not have been a minute, though in my excitement it seemed to be so long, and he had to make his plans. Then he spoke in a quiet, firm way. "Now, Dale," he said, "it is our duty, and we must fight. Forget that you are a boy, and act like a man. Got your revolver?" "Yes." "Charged?" "Yes." I'm afraid my voice sounded very husky in my excitement, and my heart went in leaps and bounds. Frightened? Yes, I was: horribly; and if under similar circumstances any boy or man tells you he was not, don't believe him. I wouldn't. I know I was all of a tremble, but I never felt for a moment that I was going to shrink as I listened to Mr Frewen giving Mr Preddle instructions about the revolver. "No, no," I heard him say, "don't stop to re-charge. If it will not go off, use it as a club." Then he gripped me by the hand. "Ready?" he whispered. "Yes." "Then keep close to me, and come on." We stepped out into the saloon, shut our door after us, and stood listening, wondering whether there was a sentry, but all was still, and concluding that all hands were on deck, Mr Frewen unfastened Mr Preddle's door in the black darkness. He came out, and his door was also closed again. "Follow!" We went after Mr Frewen, and he stopped at a cabin-door on the opposite side, opened it, and I heard him say-- "Brymer." "Yes, who is it? Doctor?" "Yes, dress sharply. Trousers only." "I am dressed. What's up? Striking?" "A blow for liberty." "Hah! A good time while they're fumbling with the old Castle. How many are you?" "Three, and three stout men on deck." "Who are they?" "Hampton, Blane, Dumlow." "All traitors and scoundrels." "All true men waiting for my signal." "Good. And the captain?" "Too badly wounded to stir." "Mr Denning?" "Too weak." "Yes. Lead then; I'll do all you say." "Are you stronger?" "Strong enough for that; but give me something to hit with. All right, I have my pocket-knife." "Ready then? Come on, and let's see what had better be done." "Get Jarette down at any cost," said the mate. "The rest will come easy." All this was in a whisper, and then we followed Mr Frewen to the shattered entrance of the saloon, and stood there looking forward, but seeing very little, though a white peculiar gleam came off the sea, and a couple of lanterns swung forward, by the side of one of which we made out the gleam of an oilskin upon whose wet surface the dim light played. "He'll be up by the wheel," Mr Brymer whispered. "We must tackle him there; and once get him down, we can beat back the others. I'll make sure for you." Just as he spoke all doubt was at an end, for we heard Jarette shout an order to the men at the wheel; and then, before any plan could be made, he trotted forward, swung himself down the steps on to the deck, as we shrank back into the companion-way, and went forward. "Bah! We've let our chance go," whispered Mr Frewen, and then we stood fast, for Jarette stopped and turned to come back into the saloon. "Delivered into our hands," I said to myself, as I drew a long breath, for the great struggle was about to begin. _ |
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