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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 26 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. When Syd opened his eyes he was lying down, with Roylance kneeling by his side, and a curious feeling of wonderment came over him as to what all this meant. "What's the matter?" he said, sharply. "You fainted. Are you better now?" "Some people do faint at the sight of a drop of blood," said a familiar voice, followed by a sneering laugh. It was medicine to Syd, and he felt better directly, and sat up. "Give me my jacket and things," he said; and paying no heed to Terry, who was standing close by the two men who had been placed over him, busily helping with the rough tent they were fitting over the lieutenant, he walked to his patient, to find him lying so passive that he shuddered, and wondered whether the poor fellow was dead. "Did I do wrong?" Syd asked himself. "Would he have got better if I had left him alone?" He felt his ignorance terribly as he asked himself these questions; but the answer was ready for utterance as Roylance said, looking white as he spoke-- "Oh, Belt, old fellow, what a horrible job to have to do!" And then, "Would he have got right without?" "No. If he had gone on bleeding from that artery he would by now have been a dead man." "But how did you learn all that? The lads can do nothing else but talk about it." "Hush! come away," said Syd. "Let him sleep, and"--he shuddered--"let one of the men bring me a bucket of water." It was well on in the middle of the day, and there was no sign of the ship. The men had greatly improved the shelter up in the chasm; but though the carriages were up one at each end near the positions they were to occupy, the two guns which should by this time have been mounted lay on the rock, the first one having brought down the tackle, and bounded from a sloping stone on to the unfortunate lieutenant, pinning him to the ground before he could get out of the way. After seeing that his patient was carefully watched by one of the men who had been his companion that morning, Syd was trying to drive away the miserable feeling of faintness and exhaustion from which he suffered by partaking of a little refreshment, when, just as he was thinking of his father's orders, and that those guns ought to be mounted, the boatswain came up, touched his hat to him and Roylance, and was about to speak, when Terry strode up, and ignoring his brother midshipmen, said sharply-- "Look here, bo'sun; that was all nonsense this morning. Mr Dallas is wounded, and incapable. I am senior officer, and the captain's orders must be carried out. Call the men together, and I'll have those guns up at once." "Ay, ay, sir!" cried Strake; his whistle sounded shrilly against the sides of the rock, and the men came running up. "All hands to hoist up the guns," cried Terry. "Now, bo'sun, have that tackle fixed better this time." "Ay, ay, sir. Now, my lads, be smart, and we'll have that gun up in a jiffy." The men were all gathered together in a knot, but no one stirred; and they began muttering to themselves. "Now, my lads; what is it?" cried the boatswain. "You don't mind a bit o' sunshine, do you? Come, bear a hand." Not a man stirred, and Syd and Roylance exchanged looks. "What is the meaning of this?" cried Terry, in a bullying tone. "Do you hear, men? I want these guns up directly." Still no one stirred, and Terry grew pale. His one hand played about his sword, and his other hand sought a pistol. "Bo'sun!" he cried, "what is the meaning of this insubordination?" Strake shook his head. "D'ye hear, my lads? Mr Terry wants to know the meaning of this ins'bordination." Not a man spoke. "Look here," cried Terry, drawing his dirk, "I am not going to be trifled with. I order you to help hoisting up those guns. What do you mean? Are you afraid of another accident?" "No," cried the men with one consent, in quite a shout. "Then look here, my lads," cried Terry, drawing a pistol, "I'll stand no nonsense. Will you obey?" "Look here, Terry," said Roylance, sharply, "there is no occasion for violence. The men think they have some grievance; ask them what it is." "Mind your own business, sir," cried Terry, sharply; but as Roylance drew back with a deprecating gesture, he spoke to the boatswain. "Ask the mutinous scoundrels what they mean," he said. The boatswain went up to the knot of men. "Now then, you swabs," he growled; "what's these here games?" "We arn't going to have him playing at skipper over us," said one of them. "The luff put him under arrest for interferin'." "Ay, ay," growled the others; "we don't want he." "S'pose you know it's hanging at the yard-arm for mutiny, my lads?" said the boatswain, gruffly. "Mutiny? Who want's to mutiny?" said another. "We're ready enough to work, arn't we, messmates?" "Ay, ay," came in chorus. "Then lay hold o' the rope, and let's have them guns up yonder." "Ay, to be sure; we'll get the guns up," said another man; "but Mr Terry's under 'rest." "Then you won't haul?" said the boatswain. "Not one on us. He arn't an officer till he's been afore the skipper." "Well, what am I to tell him?" "What yer like," said one of the first speakers. Strake gave his quid a turn, rubbed his ear, and walked back. "Won't haul, sir," he said, laconically. "What! Then it's mutiny. Mr Roylance, Mr Belton, draw your swords. Bo'sun, run and get a cutlass and pistols." "I don't want no cutlass to them, sir; I've got my fists," growled the boatswain. "What, are you in a state of mutiny too?" cried Terry. "Not as I knows on, sir?" "Then arrest the ringleader." "Which is him, sir?" "That man," cried Terry, pointing with his dirk to Rogers, one of the smart young fellows who had been Syd's companion in the morning. "Bring him here. Oh, if I had a file of marines!" "Which you arn't got," muttered Strake, as he strode back to where the men were together. "Here you, Ike Rogers," he said; "I arrests you for mutiny." "No, no," growled the men together. "All right, messmates," said Rogers, laughing. "Can't put us in irons, for there arn't none." "Come on," said Strake, clapping him on the shoulder. "Mr Terry wants you." "What for?" said Rogers, eyeing the middy's dirk; "to pick my teeth?" In the midst of a burst of laughter the boatswain marched the man up to where Terry was, strutting and fuming about. "Now, you scoundrel," he said; "what does this mean?" "Beg pardon, sir; that's what we want to know." "Then I'll tell you, sir; it's rank mutiny." "There now, bo'sun; that's just what we thought," said Rogers, turning to him. "I know'd it was, and that's why we wouldn't come." "You scoundrel! You're playing with me," cried Terry. "Nay, sir; not me. Wouldn't ketch me play with a orficer with a big sword in his hand." "Then tell me what you mean. You said it was mutiny, and so you would not come." "That's it, sir. Sworn to sarve the King; and when a young orficer, which is you, sir, breaks out of arrest, and wants to lead a lot of poor chaps wrong, 'tarn't me as 'll risk my neck." Terry's jaw dropped at this unexpected reply, and Roylance burst into a roar of laughter, in which he was joined by Syd, while Strake stood with his face puckered up like a year-old pippin, and rubbed his starboard ear. "Mr Roylance!" cried Terry at last, "how is discipline to be preserved while you encourage the men in this tomfoolery? I shall report it to the captain, sir." "Look here, Mr Terry," said Roylance, firmly; "the man is, in his way, quite right." "Ay, ay, sir," cried the others, who had closed in, following their messmate. "Quite right?" "Yes; Mr Dallas put you under arrest." "Mr Dallas is ill--dying, and unable to give orders, sir. I am your senior." "Oh, you're welcome to take command for me," cried Roylance. "I don't want the responsibility." "Once more, my lads, I warn you of the consequences. Will you go to your work?" There was no reply, and the men drew back, while Terry stood looking along their faces with his pistol raised. "Mind that there don't go off, please, sir," said Rogers, dryly. "You might hit me." There was a roar of laughter at this, and Terry stamped with rage. "Shall I go and try and bring 'em to their senses, sir?" said the boatswain. "No--yes," cried Terry. "Which on 'em, sir?" said the boatswain, dryly. "Yes. Go and see, and tell them I'll shoot down the first man who disobeys." "Oh, Lor'!" groaned Rogers, with mock horror, and there was another laugh, while Syd turned away unable to keep his countenance, and went to where the lieutenant lay asleep. "Look here, my lads," growled the boatswain; "it's no use kicking agen it. Come on; lay to at the ropes, and let's get the work done." "We arn't going to be bully-ragged by a thing like that," said the oldest man present. "If he was a chap with anything in him, we would. But he's a bully, that's what he is. Let Mr Roylance take command." "Says as Mr Roylance is to take command, sir," shouted Strake. "No," said Roylance, "I will not undertake the responsibility." "Look ye here, messmates," cried Rogers, as Syd hung back from the little tent, "Capen Belton's our skipper." "Ay, ay," shouted the men. "And he arn't here, and the luff's in orspittle." "Well, we know that, Iky," said one of the men. "Ay, lad; but here comes the son. I says let young Captain Belton take command." "Ay, ay!" thundered the men, and they gave three cheers. "There you are, sir," said the boatswain. "Men says you're to take command." "I?" cried Syd; "nonsense. There's Mr Roylance." "No, no," cried the men; and Terry stood grinding his teeth, and looking threateningly at Syd. "Look here, my lads," cried Syd; "the captain wants those guns mounted, and this place held." "Ay, ay, sir; we'll do it and hold it again anybody," cried Rogers. "Very well put, Belton; very well," cried Terry. "Your officer is helpless. Will you obey Mr Terry, and do your duty like men?" "No!" came with a roar. "Then let Mr Roy lance take command. Come, be men." "We arn't got nothing agen Mr Roylance," shouted a voice; "but we want you." "Go on, Belton; take command. The ship will be back perhaps to-night, and we must have those guns up," said Roylance. "Will you back me up?" "Of course," cried Roylance, heartily. "All right, then, my lads," cried Syd. "Now then, with a will." "Ay, ay. Hooray!" shouted the men. "Man signalling from the tent, sir," said Roylance. "Oh!" ejaculated Syd, as a cold chill ran through him, and he shrank from learning what it meant. "Go and see, Roy." Roylance was already half-way there, and he came back directly. "Mr Dallas says you are to take command, Mr Belton," he cried, loud enough for the men to hear; "and he begs that at any cost you will get the guns in position before dark." "Ay, ay," yelled the men, and then there was dead silence. "I am only one against you all, Mr Belton," said Terry, in a low, snarling tone, "and the moment the _Sirius_ comes back, I go to the captain and tell him the whole truth." "Do," said Syd, quietly; "only tell him all." _ |
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