Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea > This page
Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 40 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FORTY. A good deal had been done to make the way easy, but still it was an arduous and hot climb up to the flagstaff, on his way to which Syd had found time, in case they had not heard, to announce the sail in sight to Mr Dallas and the boatswain. There it was, sure enough, a vessel in full sail right away in the east; and as Syd gazed at it through the glass, his spirits sank. "It isn't the _Sirius_," he said, as he handed the glass to Roylance. "No, sir," said the man on the look-out; "she's a Frenchy, I think." "How do you know it isn't the _Sirius_?" said Roylance, as he used the glass. "Because her masts slope more than those do," replied Syd, and then he felt how ignorant he was, and how old Strake would have told the nationality of a vessel "by the cut of her jib," as he would have termed it. His musings were interrupted by Roylance. "Yes, I think she's a French ship," he said. "Bound for Saint Jacques, evidently, and I dare say she'll come by here." "Well, we can't stop her," said Syd, shortly, for he felt annoyed that his companion should know so much more of seafaring matters than he. "No," replied Roylance; "but she can stop us perhaps. I should not be surprised if she is coming on purpose; for the people, you see, must know we have taken possession of this rock, and that is why all shipping has kept away." "Perhaps so," said Syd, a little more testily, for it was painful to be so ignorant. "Well, I suppose we can do nothing." "Do nothing? Well, you are at the head of affairs; but if it was my case I should go and have a word with the lieutenant, and take his advice." These were his words of wisdom, and Syd hurried down to the hospital and reported. "And me a-lying here like a log," muttered the boatswain. "In all probability a French man-of-war come to see what we mean by settling down here. Well, Mr Belton," said the lieutenant, "I do not suppose it means fighting; but, if I were you, I should get out my ammunition, and have it well up to the guns." "Why don't you tell me to do it, sir?" cried Sydney, humbly. "Because the command has fallen upon you, my lad; and I'm only a poor feeble creature, hardly able to lift an arm. Come; you have no time to spare. Draw up your ropes, beat to quarters, and if the enemy does come near, and send a boat to land, you can warn them off." "And if they will not go, sir?" "Send a shot over their heads." "And if they don't go then?" "Send one through their boat." "But that will hurt somebody, sir." "I hope so," said the lieutenant, dryly. "Why, Strake, what are you doing?" he continued, excitedly, as the boatswain slowly sat up, uttering a groan as he lowered down his feet. "On'y going to see to that there ammunition, sir. There's no gunner aboard, and some one ought to do it." "But you are too weak and ill, my man." "I shall be weaker and iller ever so much, sir, if I stop here," said the boatswain. "Oh, I arn't so very bad." "But really, my man--" "Don't stop me, your honour, sir. How could I look his father in the face again if I didn't lend a hand just when it's wanted most?" "Well, I cannot stop you, Strake," said the lieutenant. "I only wish I could stir. I could do nothing but take up the men's strength, and make them carry me about. Go on, Mr Belton; play a bold part, and recollect you are acting in the King's name." Syd flushed up, and went to work at once. The preparations did not take long. The rope-ladder was hauled up and stowed away, the men were called to quarters, ammunition served out under the boatswain's orders, and the guns loaded. Every man had his cutlass, and the British colours had been laid ready for hoisting at a moment's notice. When these arrangements had been made, Syd took Roylance and Terry into consultation, and asked them if there was anything else that could be done. Neither could suggest anything, for the water-casks were filled, the stores were up in safety, and the men had a supply of fresh fish, in the shape of the shark just caught--a toothsome dainty that some sailors consider excellent for a change. All was ready; every man at his post; and after buckling on his dirk, Syd thought to himself, "What an impostor I am! What impudence it is for me to pretend to command these men!" But as he went out amongst them, somehow it did not seem as if they thought so. There was a bright eagerness in their faces, and whenever he spoke it was to be answered with a cheery "Ay, ay, sir!" and his orders were executed with alacrity. It was a small party to command, if this should prove to be a French man-of-war come to dispute the right of the English to this rocky speck off their possessions. But the matter was soon to be proved. From time to time Syd climbed to the flagstaff to watch the stranger, which was approaching fast, and also to sweep the distant horizon in search of help in what promised to be his dire need. And here it may as well be stated that in planting his garrison on the rock, it had been the intention of Captain Belton--an idea endorsed by his consort--to let a party of his men hold the place, so as to keep any party from Saint Jacques from taking possession, and from thence annoying his ships. Such a venture could only be made with boats from the town, and these he felt that it would be easy for the little garrison to beat off. It never entered into his calculations that the rock could be attacked by a man-of-war, for he and his consort would be there watching the channel which led up to the town, and theirs would be the duty to repel any formidable attack. The gale, which had risen to a hurricane, changed all this, and that upon which the captain did not count had come to pass. For a French frigate was sailing steadily up the broad channel--a vessel whose captain was evidently quite at home among the coral reefs and shoals which spread far and near, and its nearing was watched with eager eyes. From time to time Roylance was sent to report the state of affairs to Mr Dallas, who lay on his rough couch, apparently quite calm and confident, but with a red patch burning in either cheek, as he bitterly felt his helplessness and inability to do more than give a word or two of advice. But this advice he did give, when the frigate was about a mile off. "We are so weak here," he said to Roylance, "that Mr Belton had better keep his men well out of sight, and not invite inquiry or molestation. The vessel may not be coming here, and if they see no one will pass on." Roylance communicated this to Syd. "But there is one thing they will see," he said. "What?" "The flagstaff." "Yes; I had forgotten that, and it is too late to take it down; the men would be seen." All this time the frigate was steadily approaching, for if her course was to reach the town that slept so calmly in the sunshine, she would come within about half a mile of the rock as she passed. The orders were given for the men to keep out of sight at the lower gun, the heavy piece being drawn back from the opening in the stone wall built up in front; and Roylance, who had charge there, lay down behind a piece of rock, where he could watch the vessel's course. Syd went on himself to the upper gun, after bidding the man at the flagstaff keep out of sight. Terry was walking up and down impatiently as the lad approached, and the latter looked at him wonderingly, for only a short time before they had parted apparently the best of friends. "Look here, Mr Belton," said Terry, losing not a moment in developing his new grievance, "I want to know why Roylance has been sent down to the lower gun, where the work is of more importance than this." "More importance?" said Syd. "Yes; I suppose you have been advised to do it as a slight upon me. You would not have done it of your own accord." "I was not advised to do anything of the kind," said Syd, quietly; "I did what I thought was best. If there is any difference in the two posts, this is the more important, because every one would have to retreat here in case the lower gun was taken." "Surely I ought to know which is the more important, sir," cried Terry, loudly, "and I see now it is a question of favouritism or friendliness. But I shall protest against it, and so I tell you." "There is no time to discuss such a matter as this now, Mr Terry," said Syd. "You are to hold this gun in readiness to cover the retreat if the lower work becomes untenable; and now you must keep yourself and men hidden, and the gun drawn back." "What for?" said Terry, with asinine obstinacy. "I cannot stop to explain why." "But I insist, sir. Am I to play the part of coward without having the privilege of knowing why such a distasteful course is to be adopted? I am sure if Mr Dallas knew--" "Do as you're told, sir," cried Syd, warmly. "Not a man is to be seen. Run that gun in, my lads." Then, as the order was obeyed, much to Terry's disgust, Syd said quietly-- "The men are to keep out of sight, so that the French ship may pass on. You understand?" "Oh, yes: I understand," sneered Terry, as Syd went away, and then crept up under the shelter of the side of one of the rifts to the flagstaff, where he lay down beside the watch and opened his glass, so that he was able to examine the coming vessel at his ease. Twenty-eight guns he counted, and as he kept on watching he could even see the movements of the men on deck. All calm and quiet there; the men in knots, the officers seated, or leaning over the side. There could be no doubt about it; the man-of-war was on a peaceable mission, as far as the rock was concerned, and would pass on. Once or twice Sydney saw an officer glance in his direction, but only to turn away again. But he made no report to any one else, and the frigate sailed on in the hot evening sunshine. Syd felt his spirits rise. He had proved himself to be no coward, though he shrank from the awful responsibility of giving orders or committing acts which might cause the shedding of blood. The Frenchman was sailing steadily on, and the lad drew his breath more freely, as he said, almost unconsciously, to the man watching by his side-- "There'll be no fighting, my lad." "Well, sir," replied the man, who happened to be Rogers, "I dunno as I want to fight. If I'm told to, course I shall, but it takes a lot with me to get my monkey up; and I'd rather look like a coward any day than have to fire at a man or give him a chop with my cutlash." "Quite right, Rogers. I don't think those who bounce most are the bravest. How bright and clean it looks on board ship! I wonder how soon the _Sirius_ will come back. Ah, there she goes," he continued, as he used the glass, "sailing straight away for Saint Jacques; one could almost like to be in her for a change. Hallo!" He looked eagerly through his glass at the passing ship, and became suddenly aware of the fact that something had attracted the attention of the officers of the French frigate, for one of the men went up quickly to an officer on the quarter-deck, and through the glass Sydney could see the gold lace of his uniform glisten as he raised one hand and pointed at the rock. "How vexatious!" said Syd, aloud; "that officer must have seen the flagstaff." "No, sir; I don't think so," said Rogers. "Nonsense, man! they have seen it. Look, they're throwing the ship up in the wind, and--yes--they're going to lower a boat. Look at the men swarming across the deck like ants. They must have seen the flagstaff. What a pity it was not taken down!" "Beg pardon, sir; I don't think it was the flagstaff." "What, then? They couldn't see the guns." "No, sir; but they could have seen Mr Terry." "How? Why?" "He got up on the gun-carriage, and stood down below there, staring out to sea." Syd lowered the glass and changed his position, so that he could look down into the little stone-built fort, where the upper gun was placed, and there, sure enough, was Terry in the act of getting down from the gun-carriage. "Why, what can he mean by that?" "Dunno, sir," said the man, bluntly. "He's a orficer; but if it had been one of us we should precious soon know." "What do you mean?" cried Sydney, uneasily. "Only, sir, as you orficers would call it treachery, and it might mean yard-arm." _ |
||