Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Fitz the Filibuster > This page
Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 19. Ticklish |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. TICKLISH Burgess the mate went forward, to stand for a few minutes looking into the offing, before going back aft to say a word or two to the man at the wheel, as the schooner was now gliding rapidly on, and then walked sharply to where the skipper was giving orders to the men, which resulted in a big gaff sail being run up, to balloon out and increase the schooner's rate of speed through the water. A short consultation ensued, another man was put on the look-out forward, and the mate went back to take the wheel himself. "Ah, that's better," said Poole quietly. "What's better?" asked Fitz. "Old Burgess taking the wheel himself. It's a bad enough place here in the daylight, but it's awful in the darkness, and we are not quite so likely to be carried by some current crash on to a rock." "Then why, in the name of common-sense, don't we lay-to till daylight?" "Because it wouldn't be common-sense to wait till that steamer comes gliding up, and takes possession of the _Teal_. Do you know what that means?" "Yes; you would all be made prisoners, and I should be free," cried Fitz, laughing. "My word, Master Poole, I don't want you to have a topper first, but I'd let you see then what it is to be a prisoner aboard the _Silver Teal_." "Oh yes, of course, I know," replied Poole mockingly. "But you don't know everything. When I asked you if you knew what it meant it was this, that our cargo would go into the wrong hands and about ruin Don Ramon's cause." "Well, what does that matter?" "Everything. Ramon, who has been striking for freedom and all that's good and right, would be beaten, and the old President Don Villarayo would carry on as before. He is as bad a tyrant as ever was at the head of affairs, and it's to help turn him out of the chair that my father and his Spanish friends are making this venture." "Well, that's nothing to me," said Fitz. "I am on the side of right." "Well, that is the side of right." "Oh no," said Fitz. "According to the rule of these things that's the side of right that has the strongest hold." "Bah!" said Poole. "That would never do, unless it is when we get the strongest hold, and that we mean to do." "Well, I hope old Burgess, as you call him, won't run this wretched schooner crash on to a rock. You might as well hand me out a life-belt, in case." "Oh, there's time enough for that," said Poole coolly. "I'll take care of you. But I say, look! That gunboat is coming on two knots for our one. Can't you see?" "I can see her lights, of course, but it doesn't seem to me that she is getting closer." "She is, though, and she's bound to overtake us, for old Burgess is keeping right along the main channel. Why, if I didn't know who was at the wheel," cried the lad excitedly, "I should be ready to think that the steersman had proved treacherous, and was playing into the enemy's hands. Oh, here's father! I say, dad, do you see how fast that gunboat is overhauling us?" "Oh yes," said the skipper coolly. "It's all right, my boy; Burgess knows what he's about. He wants to get a little more offing, but it's getting nearly time to lie over on the other tack." He had hardly spoken when the mate at the wheel called out-- "Now!" The skipper gave a short, sharp order or two, the men sprang to the sheets, the schooner was turned right up into the wind, the sails began to shiver, and directly after they began to fill on the other tack, were sheeted home, and the _Teal_ lay so over to starboard that Fitz made a snatch at a rope so as to steady himself and keep his feet. "Why, he'll have the sea over her side," whispered Fitz excitedly. "Very likely," said Poole coolly. "Ah, you don't know how we can sail." "Sail! Why, you will have her lying flat in the water directly." "Make the sails more taut," said Poole coolly. "I say, we are going now. I didn't see what he meant. We have just turned the South Rocks. Talk about piloting, old Burgess does know what he's about. We are sailing as fast as the gunboat." "But she's overhauling us." "Yes, but she won't try to pass those rocks. She will have to keep to the channel. We are skimming along over the rocky shallows now." "Yes, with the keel nearly up to the surface," panted Fitz excitedly. "All the better! Less likely to scrape the rocks." "Well, you are taking it pretty coolly," continued the midshipman. "This must be risky work." "Yes, we don't want to be taken. You wait a few minutes and watch the gunboat's lights. You will see that she will be getting more distant as she goes straight on for the open sea. Her captain will make for the next channel, two or three miles south, to catch us there as we come out--and we shan't come out, for we shall go right on in and out among the shallows and get clear off, so as to sail into Velova Bay. We shall be all right if we don't come crash on to one of the shark's fin rocks." "And if we do?" "Well, if we do we shan't get off again--only in the boats--but old Villarayo's gang won't get the ammunition, for that will go down to amuse the sharks." "Well, this is nice," said Fitz. "The schooner was bad enough before; now it's ten times worse." "Nonsense. See how we are skimming along. This is a new experience for you. You will see more fun with us in a month than you would in your old tea-kettle of a gunboat in twelve." "Phew!" ejaculated the skipper, coming up, straw hat in one hand, pocket-handkerchief in the other, and mopping his face. "This is rather warm work, Poole, my boy. Well, Mr Burnett, what do you think of blockade running for a change?" "What do I think of it, sir?" said Fitz, who was still holding on tight to one of the ropes. "Yes. Good as yachting, isn't it?" "Well, I don't like it a bit, sir. I don't call it seamanship." "Indeed, young gentleman! What do you call it, then?" "Utter recklessness, sir." "Oh!" said the skipper. "Well, it is running it rather close, but you can't do blockade running without. Not afraid, are you?" "Oh, I don't know about being afraid, sir, but I think that we shall have to take to the boats." "Yes, that's quite likely, but the chances are about equal that we shall not. Mr Burgess knows what he is about, and as likely as not we shall be right into Velova Bay soon after sunrise, and the President's gunboat twenty miles away." Several times over during the rest of the night's run, Fitz observed that there was a little anxious conference between the skipper and the mate, the former speaking very sternly, and on one occasion the latter spoke out loud in a sharp angry voice, the words reaching the middy's ear. "Of course it is very risky," he said, "but I feel as if I shall get her through, or I shouldn't do it. Shall we take soundings and drop anchor in the best bit we can find?" "Where we shall be clearly seen as soon as day breaks? No! Go on." It was a relief then to both the lads when the day broke, showing them a line of breakers about half-a-mile away on the starboard-bow, and clear open water right ahead, while as the dawn lifted more and more, it was to show a high ground jungle and the beautiful curve of another bay formed by a couple of ridges about three miles apart running down into the sea. "There," cried Poole triumphantly; "we have been running the gauntlet of dangerous rocks all night, and we've won. That's Velova Bay. You will see the city directly, just at the mouth of the valley. Lovely place. It's the next city to San Cristobal." "Fetch my glass, Poole," said the skipper; and upon its being brought its owner took a long searching sweep of the coast as he stood by the mate's side. "I can only make out a few small vessels," he said; "nothing that we need mind. Run straight in, and we can land everything before the gunboat can get round, even if she comes, which is doubtful, after all." "Yes, knowing how we can sail." The boys were standing near, and heard all that was said, for their elders spoke freely before them. "What about choice of place for landing?" asked the mate. "Oh, we will go up as close as we can get. Ramon is sure to have a strong party there to help, and in a very short time he would be able to knock up an earthwork and utilise the guns as we get them ashore. That would keep the gunboat off if she comes round." "Yes," said the mate quietly, and he handed over the wheel to one of the men, the sea being quite open now between them and the shore a few miles away. "Well," said the skipper, "what do you make of it?" For the mate was shading his eyes and looking carefully round eastward. "Have a look yourself," was the gruff reply. The skipper raised the glass he had lowered to his side, and swept the horizon eastward; knowing full well the keenness of his subordinate's eyes, he fully expected to see some suspicious vessel in sight, but that had not taken the mate's attention, for as soon as the glass had described about the eighth of a circle the skipper lowered it again and gave an angry stamp with his foot. "Was ever such luck!" he cried. "No," replied the mate; "it is bad. But there is only one thing to be done." "Yes, only one thing. We must get out while we can, and I don't know but what we may be too late even now." For the next few minutes all was busy on board the schooner. It was 'bout ship, and fresh sail was set, their course being due east, while as soon as Fitz could get Poole to answer a question, what had so far been to him a mystery was explained. "We are in for one of those hurricanes that come on so suddenly here," said the lad, "and we are going right out to sea, to try and get under shelter of one of the isles before it breaks." "But why not stop here in harbour?" said Fitz sharply. "Because there is none. When the wind's easterly you can only expect one thing, and that is to be blown ashore." "But is there time to get under the lee of some island?" "I don't know. We are going straight into danger now, for as likely as not we shall meet the gunboat coming right across our bows to cut us off." _ |
||