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Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 10 |
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_ Chapter Ten
He went down slowly to the library without a light, meaning to summon the butler and make him prepare a tray. But meanwhile Admiral Belton had provided himself with a chamber candlestick and stolen softly down-stairs, through the baize door at one side of the hall, and along the passage that led to the kitchen. "Can't leave the poor lad to starve," he muttered; "and I dare say I shall find out the larder by the smell." He chuckled to himself as he softly unfastened a door. "Nice game this for one of his Majesty's old officers of the fleet," he said. "Wonder what they'd say at the club if they saw me?" The door passed, he had no difficulty in finding the kitchen, for there was a pleasant chirping of crickets to greet his ear; a kitcheny smell that was oniony and unmistakable, and a few paces farther on his feet were on stones that were sanded, and all at once there was a loud pop where he put down his foot. He lowered the light and saw that black beetles were scouring away in all directions. "Cockroaches, by George!" he muttered. "Now where can the larder be?" There were three doors about, and he went to the first. "Hah!" he ejaculated, with a sniff. "Here we are; no doubt about it." He slipped a bolt, lifted a latch, stepped in and stepped out again quickly, then closed the door. "Scullery!" he snarled. "Bah! what an idiot I do seem, prowling about here." He crossed the kitchen, slaying two more black beetles with his broad feet in transit, and opened another door. This he found led into a cool passage, along one side of which was a wirework kind of cage. "Here we are at last," he said; and opening the door, he found himself in presence of part of a cold leg of mutton, a well-carved piece of beef, and a cold roast pheasant. "Now then for a plate," he muttered; and this he secured by sliding some tartlets off one on to the shelf. "Why, I've no knife," he muttered, as he cast his eyes upon the cold roast pheasant. "I must have some bread too." A huge brown pan on the stone floor suggested the home of the loaves, and on raising the lid he found a half loaf, which he broke in two, secured one piece, and transferred it to the plate. "Hang it all, where is there a knife?" he muttered. "One can't cut beef or mutton without a knife. 'Tisn't even as if one had got one's sword. Here--I know." He seized the pheasant. "Humph! too much for a boy. Don't know, though; dare say he could finish it. Wouldn't do him good. I'll--that's it." He took hold of one leg, and holding the bird down, pulled off one of its joints; then another; after which he placed the pair of legs thoughtfully on the plate. "May as well give him a wing too," he said; and seizing the one having the liver, he was in the act of tearing it off, when an exclamation behind made him start round and face the captain. "My dear Tom!" exclaimed the latter. "Why, my dear boy, didn't you speak, and so have ordered a supper-tray?" "But you seem to be hungry too," growled the admiral, pointing with the wing he had now torn-off at a plate and knife and fork his brother carried. "Eh? yes," said the captain, starting and looking conscious. "I--er-- that is--" "Why, Harry!" exclaimed Sir Thomas. "Tom!" cried the captain. "You don't mean that you have come down to--" "Yes, I do," cried the admiral, fiercely. "Think I was going to bed after a good dinner to shut my eyes whilst that poor boy was half-starved?" "But it is a punishment for him," said the captain, sternly. "Punishment be hanged, sir!" cried Sir Thomas. "Harry, you are my brother, and I am only a guest here, but you are a humbug, sir." "What do you mean?" "Mean that you've been bouncing about being strict, and the rest of it, and yet you brought that plate and knife to cut your boy some supper." "Well, er--I'm afraid I did, Tom." "I'm not afraid, but I'm very glad you're not such a hard-hearted scoundrel. Poor boy! he must be famished. Here, give me that knife." The captain handed the knife, but in doing so brushed his sleeve over the flame of the candle he carried, and extinguished it. "How provoking!" "Never mind," said his brother; "one must do." As he spoke, the admiral hacked a great piece off the breast of the pheasant, and added it to the legs and wing. "There," he said, "that ought to keep him going till breakfast. Must have a bit o' salt, Harry. Hush!" He stooped down and blew out the remaining candle, as the captain caught his arm, and they stood listening. For the creaking of a door had fallen upon their ears; and partly from involuntary action consequent upon the dread of being caught in so unusual a position, partly from the second thought to which he afterwards gave vent, the admiral sought refuge in the dark. "Burglars, Harry," he whispered. "They're after your plate." "Hist! don't speak; we may catch them," was whispered back, and the two old officers stood listening for what seemed an interminable length of time before they saw the dim reflection of a light; heard more whispering, and then the door leading into the larder passage was softly opened. "Coming into the trap," thought the captain, as with his heart beating fast he prepared for the encounter which he foresaw must take place. "Be ready," he said, with his lips to his brother's ear. "Right. They're going to board," was whispered back. They were not long kept in doubt, for the larder door was suddenly thrown open, and three men dashed in armed with bludgeons and a cutlass. There was a sharp scuffle in the darkness, in which the two brave old officers made desperate efforts to master their assailants, but only to find that their years were against them, and they were completely overcome. "You lubbers! Do you give in?" cried a hoarse voice--that of the man sitting on the captain's chest, while two men were holding down the admiral, who still heaved and strove to get free. "Strake, you scoundrel! is it you?" panted the captain. Barney executed a curious manoeuvre, half bound, half roll, off his master, and brought up close to one of the larder shelves, while one of the other men left the admiral and ran out, to return with a light. The scene was strange. Barney was standing supporting himself against the larder shelf, with his elbow on the cold sirloin of beef; the footman, in his shirt and breeches, was in a corner; and Captain Belton and his brother, with their clothes half torn-off their backs, were seated on the bare floor, staring angrily at their assailants; while Broughton, the butler, was in the doorway, with the candle he had fetched held high above his head. "My last tooth gone," roared the admiral. "You scoundrels, you shall pay for this." "Strake, you rascal!" cried the captain. "Broughton, is this some plot to rob me?" The men stared aghast, as the captain struggled up. "Speak, you ruffians! You, John!" roared the captain, as he got his breath again, and stood trembling with passion as he glared at the footman. "Beg pardon, sir," stammered the frightened servitor. "No, don't stop for that, sir," cried his master; "tell me what the dickens this means." "Please, sir, I heard noises down-stairs, and I thought it was after the plate; so I told Broughton, sir, and he sent me after the gardener, sir." "And then you came and attacked us," roared the admiral. "Here, I'm half killed." "We didn't know it was you, Sir Thomas," growled Barney. "Then why didn't you know, you idiot?" cried the captain. "Didn't think anybody could be down-stairs, sir," said the butler, respectfully. "Why didn't you show your colours, you scoundrel?" cried the admiral, "and not come firing broadsides into your friends. Confound--I say, Harry, my lad, just look at me." "I'm very sorry, sir," faltered the butler. "Hang your sorrow, sir! You've broke my watch-glass, and I can feel the bits pricking me." "Come to me at ten o'clock to-morrow morning, all of you," cried the captain, fiercely, "and I'll pay you your wages, and you shall go." "No, no, no," said the admiral; "I think we've given them as much as they gave us, and--haw, haw, haw!" he roared, bursting into a tremendous peal of laughter; "we didn't show our colours either. It's all right, brother Harry; they took us for burglars--but they needn't have hit quite so hard." "Beg your honour's pardon, sir, sure," growled Barney. "Beg my pardon, sir!--after planting your ugly great knees on my chest, and then sitting on me with your heavy carcase!" "Is anything the matter?" said a voice at the door, and Sydney made his appearance, looking startled at the scene. "No, no, my boy," cried his uncle, cheerily; "only your father and I came down to get you a bit of supper, and then they boarded us in the dark." "Yes, yes, that was it, Syd," said the captain. "Here, put that plate on a tray, Broughton, and take it into the library. I'm very sorry this has happened." "All a mistake, sir, I'm sure," said the butler, taking the plate with the hacked and torn-off portions of pheasant. "Yes; don't say any more about it. Come, brother Tom; come, Sydney." He led the way, but the jolly old admiral could not follow for laughing. He leaned up against the larder shelf, and stood wiping his eyes; and every time he got over one paroxysm he began again. But at last he beckoned to Barney. "Here, give me your arm, bo'sun," he said, "and help me into the library; I feel as if everything were going by the board. Oh, dear me! oh, dear me! Wait till I've buttoned this waistcoat. Well, it's a lesson. Done for you, Syd, if you had been going to sea. Never attack without proper signals to know who are enemies and who are not." The supper was soon spread in the library, and Sydney was ravenous for a few mouthfuls, but after that he pushed his plate away, and could eat no more. "What!" cried his uncle; "done? Nonsense! I can peck a bit now myself; and, Harry, my boy, I must have a glass of grog after this." The result was that Syd did eat a decent supper, and an hour later, when all was still, he sat thinking for a time about the coming morning. Perhaps more than that of the fact that neither his father nor his uncle had shaken hands when they parted for the night. Then came sleep--sweet, restful sleep--and he was dreaming vividly for a time of a desperate fight with the French, in which he boarded a larder, and captured a butler, footman, and a gardener. After that all was dense, dreamless sleep, till he started up in bed, for there was a knocking at his door. _ |
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