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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 16. Land Ho! |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. LAND HO! Two days passed, during which time Fitz kept to his cabin, and towards evening Poole came down, to find the middy seated with his back to the door gazing through the cabin-window at what seemed to be a beautiful blue cloud low-down on the horizon. "Hullo!" cried Poole cheerily. "You can see it, then?" "Yes," said Fitz, without looking round. "That's land, I suppose." "Yes, that's one of the islands; but look here, what's the good of going on like this?" "If I choose to sit at my prison-window and look out for the islands, I suppose I have a right to do so," said Fitz coldly. "I say, take care. Recollect you have not quite got your strength up again. Mind you don't fall." "May I inquire what you mean?" said Fitz haughtily. "Of course. I mean, take care you don't tumble off the stilts now you have got on to them again." "Bah!" ejaculated the boy. "Well, what's the good of going on like that, sulking and pretending you are a prisoner?" "There's no pretence in that," said Fitz bitterly. "Yes, there is," retorted Poole quickly. "It's all shammon and gam--I mean, gammon and sham. You are no more a prisoner than I am. Why, even father says you seem to be riding the high horse. I suppose you do feel a bit awkward about coming on deck amongst the men, after going through that--I mean, after what happened." "Oh, say it!" cried Fitz angrily. "After going through that performance, you meant." "I am not going to argue and fence. Look here, you have got to face the men, so why not make a plunge and do it? You think the lads will be winking and exchanging glances and whispering to one another, when all the time there's only one body on board the _Teal_ who gives all that business a thought, and that's you. Tchah! Sailors have no time to think about what's past. They have always got to keep a sharp look-out for the rocks ahead. You are such a sensitive chap. Come on up, and let's have a turn at fishing." "Is your father quite well again?" said Fitz, without heeding his companion's proposal. "Oh yes; that was only one of his fits. They come and go." "And how's Mr Burgess?" "Pretty well right again. Come up. Have the glass. You can see another island astern, one of the little ones, and I think we are going to have one of these lovely tropic sunsets, same as we had last night when you wouldn't come and see it." "How can a fellow situated as I am care for sunsets?" "Just in the same way as he can care for sunrises if he's awake early enough. Oh, do pitch all that up! It has all gone by. But I see how it is. You think that you made a mistake, and that everybody will be ready to laugh at you." "And so they will," cried Fitz passionately. "I can never show my face on deck again." "Ha, ha!" laughed Poole. "Well, you are a rum chap, fancying a thing like that. Why, my father's too much of a gentleman ever to notice it again, and I'm sure old grumpy Burgess wouldn't, from what he said to me when I was telling him all about it afterwards." "What!" cried Fitz, flashing out. "You went down tale-bearing to the mate like that?" "There you go again! I didn't go tale-bearing. He'd heard about it from one of the men, and next time I took him his quinine he began questioning me." "And what did he say?" cried Fitz fiercely. "Shan't tell you." "What!" cried Fitz. "And you profess to be my friend!" "Yes; that's why I won't tell you," said Poole, with his eyes twinkling. "I want to spare your feelings, or else it will make you so wild." "The insolent piratical old scoundrel!" cried Fitz. "How dare he!" "Oh, don't ask me. He's a regular rough one with his tongue, as you know by the way in which he deals with the men; gives the dad the raspy side of his palaver sometimes, but dad never seems to mind it. He never takes any notice, because Burgess means right, and he's such a splendid seaman." "Means right!" cried Fitz angrily. "Is it right to abuse a prisoner behind his back when he's not in a position to defend himself?" "Yes, it was too bad," said Poole sympathetically. "What did he say?" "Oh, you had better not know," replied Poole, winking to himself. "I insist upon your telling me." "Oh, well, if you will have it--only don't blame me afterwards for letting it out." "What did he say?" repeated the boy. "It was while he had got a very bad fit of the shivers on, and the poor fellow's teeth were all of a chatter with the fever." "I think your teeth seem to be all of a chatter," snarled the midshipman fiercely. "Ha, ha! You are a wonderful deal better, Queen's man," cried Poole merrily. "Have you come down here like the rest to insult and trample on me?" cried Fitz, springing to his feet. "Ah, now you are getting yourself again." "I insist upon your telling me what that man Burgess said." "What he said? Well, he said you were a plucked 'un and no mistake." "Bah!" ejaculated Fitz, and there was silence for a few moments, during which Poole thrust his head out of the cabin-window to give his companion time to calm down. "Yes," said the lad, looking round. "Clouds are gathering in the west, and we are going to have a grand show of such colours as I never saw anywhere else. Come on up, there's a good chap." Fitz remained silent, and the skipper's son winked to himself. "Where's Mr Burgess now?" said Fitz at last. "He's in his cabin, writing home to his wife. You would never think how particular such a gruff old fellow as he is about writing home. Writes a long letter every week as regular as clockwork. Doesn't seem like a pirate, does it?" "Is your father on deck?" "No. He's in his cabin, busy over the chart. We are getting pretty close to the port now." "Ah!" cried Fitz eagerly. "What port are we making for?" "San Cristobal." "Where's that?" "In the Armado Republic, Central America." "Oh," said Fitz. "I never heard of it before. Is there a British Consul there?" "Oh, I don't know. There generally is one everywhere. I think there used to be before Don Villarayo upset the Government and got himself made President." "And is it to him that you are taking out field-guns and ammunition?" "I never said we were taking out field-guns and ammunition," said Poole innocently. "There's nothing of that sort down in the bills of lading-- only Birmingham hardware. Oh no, it is not for him. It is for another Don who is opening a new shop there in opposition to Villarayo, and from what I heard he is going to do the best trade." "What's the good of your talking all this rubbish to me? Of course I know what it all means." "That's right. I supposed you did know something about it, or else your skipper would not have sent you to try and capture our Birmingham goods." "Birmingham goods!" cried Fitz. "Fire-arms, you mean." "To be sure, yes," said Poole. "I forgot them. There are a lot of fireworks ready for a big celebration when the new Don opens his shop!" "Bah!" cried Fitz contemptuously; and then after a few moments' thought, "Well," he said shortly, "I suppose I shall have to do it. I can't stop always in this stuffy cabin. It will make me ill again; and I may just as well face it out now as at some other time." "Just," said Poole, "only I am afraid you will be disappointed, for you will find nothing to face." Fitz turned upon the speaker fiercely, looking as if he were going to make some angry remark; but he found no sneer on the face of the skipper's son, only a frank genial smile, which, being lit up by the warm glow gradually gathering in the west, seemed to glance upon and soften his own features, till he turned sharply away as if feeling ashamed of what he looked upon as weakness, and the incident ended by his saying suddenly--"Let's go on deck." _ |
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