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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. A Bold Stroke |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. A BOLD STROKE Fitz Burnett did not pause to think of the rights or wrongs of his proceedings, but smothered up everything in the belief that he was doing his duty. He would not even pause to consider whether his ideas were possible or impossible; everything was swallowed up in action, and with feverish energy he hurried back on deck to make the most use of the flying moments while he could. Hurrying forward to where the men were dozing, smoking, and thinking, he signed to those who noticed his approach, and called to the others. "Now, my lads!" he cried. The men sprang up wonderingly, apparently influenced by old traditions, and in no wise surprised to find the young officer about to give them some order. "Look here, my lads," he said, in a low, quick, excited voice; "a word with you! I know you were all ABs to a man." "Ay, ay, sir!" said the nearest sailor at whom he looked. "Old men-of-war's men," continued Fitz to another. "Ay, ay, sir! That's right," said the sailor. "It is my duty to make you, a crew of good men and true, know exactly how you stand." The listeners looked wonderingly at the excited boy, and then at one another, as if asking for the meaning of these unusual words. "Look here," continued Fitz, "you have all been good fellows to me since I have been aboard." "Ay, ay, sir! Why not?" said one of the men, with his face broadening into a hearty grin. "And that's why I, an officer in the Navy, feel friendly disposed to a set of smart fellows who used to serve the Queen." "Ay, ay, sir! We served the Queen," came in a murmur. "You did it in ignorance, no doubt, but in what you are doing you are offenders against the law, and may at any time be taken, and perhaps be strung up to the yardarm after a short trial. Certainly you will be severely punished." A low murmur of dissent, almost derision, came from the little knot of men, and one of them laughed. "You don't believe me," cried Fitz. "It is true. And now listen to what I say, one and all; I call upon you in the Queen's name to obey my orders, for I take possession of this schooner as an officer in Her Majesty's service. In the Queen's name!" There was a low murmur of mingled surprise and derision at this. "Silence, there!" cried Fitz. "I know that I am a very young officer to speak to you, but I am in the Queen's Navy, and I order you in Her Majesty's name to obey all my commands. I am going to sail at once for Kingston, where I have no doubt there will be a man-of-war on the station, and if you behave well I shall speak to the captain and get him to make it easy for you, but of course I shall give up the skipper and his son as prisoners." "Here, say something, Chips," growled one of the men; and the carpenter spoke out. "Say, squire, won't that be rather hard on them?" "Silence, sir! How dare you! That is not the way for a common sailor to address an officer." "Beg pardon, sir, but I am not a common sailor; I am a hartisan. Why, you know--the Chips." There was a titter here. "Attention!" roared Fitz. "This is no laughing matter, my lads. Perhaps each man's life, certainly his liberty, is at stake." "Ay, ay, sir!" came in a growl. "That's better," said Fitz. "Now, I don't want to be hard on you, my lads." "Hear, hear! Thank you, sir," cried the carpenter. "And I should be sorry to be harsh to any man; but once more, as an officer in the Royal Navy, I have got my duty to do, and I mean to do it." "Ay, ay, sir!" came again, in a low acquiescent growl. "But he needn't keep on a-telling us." "Those men who stand by me and do their duty in navigating this vessel shall have ample pay and reward." "What about prize-money, sir?" shouted a voice. "There'll be no prize-money." The men groaned. "But there will be reward in the shape of salvage, my lads. I, single-handed, have taken this schooner as a prize to the gunboat _Tonans_, commanded by Captain Glossop, whose officer I am. She will be condemned and sold, and those who help me loyally will have their reward. Now then, every man stand forward who is ready to do his duty by me." At that moment there was a sharp tapping heard from below. "What's that?" cried Fitz sharply, though he perfectly well knew. "It's the skipper, sir, a-opening his eyes, I think," said the carpenter. "You've woke him up, talking like that, and he's coming on deck with a pair of revolving bulldogs, to begin potting us all round. Here, who's coming below?" "Silence, sir; and keep your places." The carpenter stepped back behind the rest, and the next moment there rang out a most perfect imitation of the crow of a bantam cock, which was followed by a roaring outburst of merriment from the men. Fitz turned scarlet with rage. "How dare--" he began. "Ahoy! On deck, there!" came faintly from the cabin, followed by a heavy sound of beating and kicking. One of the men made a start aft for the companionway, followed by two more, but Fitz stepped before them. "Stop!" he shouted fiercely. "On deck, there! Do you hear? Open this door!" came from below. "Take no notice," shouted Fitz, "until I give orders. Here, you carpenter; where's the arm-chest?" "Down in the cabin, sir." "No, no; I mean the other one--the men's." "Arn't no nother one, sir. We always goes to the captain's tool-chest when we've got anybody as wants killing, or any job of that kind on hand!" "Ahoy, there!" came from below once more, and then the sharp report of a pistol, a crash, and Poole came bounding up on deck, revolver in hand. Just as he came into sight the skipper's voice was heard distinctly-- "Lay hold of the first mutineer, Poole, and drag him down here." "That's meant for you, Mr Fitz, sir," said the carpenter with a chuckle, and the men roared again. Fitz turned upon him, white as ashes, like an angry dog about to bite. "Silence, you insolent scoundrel!" he shouted. "What's the meaning of this, Burnett?" cried Poole. "This, sir," said the lad haughtily, stepping forward to meet him, laying one hand on his shoulder, and making a desperate snatch at the revolver; "I seize this schooner in the Queen's name. Now, my lads, make this boy your prisoner." Poole clapped the pistol behind him as he shook himself free. "Look here, sir," he cried; "have you gone mad?" "Do you hear, men?" cried Fitz, seizing him again. "Forward! You, Poole, in the Queen's name, surrender!" Not a man stirred, all standing in a group looking on, some wonderingly, some thoroughly amused, while the carpenter whispered-- "All right, lads; let them fight it out. Of all the cheek!" "Did you say, You Poole or You fool?" said the skipper's son quietly; "because one of us seems to be behaving very stupidly. Take your hand off my collar. This pistol's loaded in five chambers, and was in six till I blew the lock off the cabin-door.--Quiet, I tell you, before there's an accident. Why, you must have gone off your head." "Did you hear what I said, men?" shouted Fitz furiously. "In the Queen's name, make this boy your prisoner! Here, you, boatswain, take the lead here and obey my orders." For that individual had just made his appearance on deck. "What's the row, young gentlemen? Here, you, Squire Poole, put away that six-shooter. If you and Mr Fitz here has fell out, none of that tommy-rot nonsense. Use your fists." "Boatswain," cried Fitz haughtily, "I, as an officer, seize this schooner in the Queen's name." "What, has she telled you to, sir? I never heared her come aboard." "No trifling, man. For your own sake, obey my orders. Seize this lad, and then make sail for the nearest British port." The boatswain took off his cap and scratched his head, looking at the boys in a puzzled way, while Poole made no further resistance, but resigned himself to being held, as he kept the pistol well behind his back. "Do you hear me, men?" shouted Fitz, his heart sinking with despair the while, as he noted the smiling looks of every face before him, and felt what a miserable fiasco he had made. "Oh yes, I can hear you, sir," said the boatswain. "I'd be precious deaf if I didn't; but you're giving rather a large order, taking a lot on yourself now as the skipper's lying in dock. Any one would think as you had got a gunboat's well-manned cutter lying alongside, and I don't see as it is. What was that there shot I heard?" "I blew the lock off the cabin-door by my father's orders," cried Poole. "We were locked in." "Ho!" said the boatswain. "Then this 'ere's been what they used to call aboard a ship I was in, a hen-coop _de main_. I don't quite exactly know what it means, but it's something about shutting up prisoners in a cage. But don't you think, young gentleman, you have been making a big mistake? But oh, all right--here's the skipper hisself coming on deck." Fitz turned sharply towards the companion-hatch, to see the head and shoulders of the skipper as he stood there holding on by the combings, and swaying to and fro, looking very ill and weak. His voice, too, sounded feeble as he said huskily, addressing the boatswain-- "Is there any boat alongside, Butters?" "I arn't seen one, sir," replied the boatswain. "Any cruiser within sight?" "No, sir." "Where's Mr Burgess?" "Down below, sir. I'm afraid he's got the fever too." "Tut-tut-tut!" ejaculated the skipper. "There, I needn't ask any questions. I have heard and seen enough. Mr Burnett, come here. No? Well, stay where you are. My good lad, have you been too much in the sun, to begin playing such a silly prank as this? There, no more nonsense!" he added sternly, and with his voice gathering in force. "It is evident to me that you don't know what stuff my men are made of. But I'm too weak to stand talking here. Come and lend me a hand, Poole. You, my young filibuster, had better come below with me, where you can talk the matter over like a man. Ha, ha, ha!" he added, with a peculiar laugh. "There, I'm not angry with you, my boy. I must say I admire your pluck; but you must see how absurd all this is!" The midshipman's hands had dropped to his sides, and a strange, hopeless, bitterly despondent look made his face display so many incipient wrinkles, the germs, so to speak, of those which in manhood would some day mark his frank young features. "It's all over," he groaned to himself; "they are all laughing at me. I wish I were overboard! What an idiot I have been!" The laugh was there all ready in the eyes of the crew, and ready to burst out in a roar, as, thrusting the revolver into his breast, Poole ran to his father's side, and steadied him as he went back into the cabin; but not a sound was heard till the way was quite clear and Fitz stood alone looking wildly about him like some hunted animal seeking a place of refuge where he might hide. But the lad's choice was limited to the cook's galley, the cable-tier, and the forecastle-hatch, none of which would do. There were only two courses open, he felt, and one was to end his troubles by going overboard, the other to surrender like a man, obeying the skipper's orders and following him below--anywhere to be out of sight of the jeering crew, whose remarks and mirthful shouts he momentarily expected to hear buzzing about his devoted head. And hence it was that as soon as the companion-hatch was clear he drew himself up to his full height--it did not take much doing, for it is very hard work for a boy to look like a man--and gazing straight before him, walked haughtily to the cabin-hatch and disappeared. The men seemed to have been holding their breath; their faces relaxed into smiles and grins, and the carpenter exclaimed-- "Chips and shavings! Bantams aren't--" In another moment there would have been a roar of derisive laughter, but Butters growled out hoarsely and sternly-- "Stand by! D'y' hear? Steady, my lads! None of that 'ere! Grinning like a set of Cheshire cats! What have you got to sneer at? My word! My word! And a boy like that! That's what I call genuine British pluck! What a hofficer he'd make!" "Ay, ay!" cried the carpenter. "Right you are. All together, lads! He is the right sort! Three cheers!" They were given, with the boatswain pining in, and Fitz winced as he heard them down by the cabin-door; but he was himself again directly, for there was no jarring note of derision in the sound. _ |
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