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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 35. The Contraband

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. THE CONTRABAND

The evening was coming on fast as the schooner sailed on towards the little port with her overburdened decks.

"Are we going to run right in, Poole?" asked Fitz, as he watched the excitement of the crowd on deck, where every one of Don Ramon's followers was busy polishing up his rifle, to the great amusement of the carpenter, who slouched up to where the lads were standing. "Just look at 'em," he said. "They thinks they're soldiers; that's what they have got in their heads. Rubbing up the outsides of them rifles! I've been watching of them this last half-hour. They're just like an old farmer I used to know. Always werry pertickler, he was, to whitewash the outsides of his pig-sties; but as to the insides--my!"

That last word sounded like a bad note on a clarionet, for, as he spoke, Winks was holding his nose tightly between his finger and thumb.

Fitz laughed, and asked the question that begins the second paragraph of this chapter.

"Seems like it," said Poole, "but I don't know whether it's going to be safe."

"Won't be safe for them," continued the carpenter, "if they don't run their loading-rods and a bit of rag through them barrels. Sore shoulders for some of them. My word, how they will kick! Soldiers!" he chuckled. "I say, Mr Burnett, have you ever seen them there recruiting-sergeants about Trafalgar Square, London?"

"Yes, often," said Fitz. "Why?"

"Nice smart-looking, well-built chaps, as looks as if their uniforms had growed on 'em like their skins."

"Yes, they are smart picked men of course," said Fitz.

"That's so, sir. What do you think they would say to these tan-leather-coloured ragged Jacks, if they went up and offered to take the shilling?"

"Well, they wouldn't take many of them, I think," replied the middy.

"Take many of them, sir? I seem to see one of the sergeants now. He'd hold that little walking-stick of his with both hands tight and close up under his left arm, stand werry stiff, and drop his head a little on one side as he looked down at them; and then he'd give a sniff, and that would be all."

But Don Ramon did not despise his followers. He was bustling about among them, addressing and exhorting and working them up to a tremendous pitch of excitement, making them shout and cheer till they were hoarse. Then they swarmed into the rigging and clustered in the shrouds, to wave their rifles and hats at the crowd gathering upon the shore and cheering shrilly in reply, the men's voices being mingled with those of women and children, who seemed to be welcoming them as their deliverers.

"Well, it's all right, Don Ramon," said the skipper, who was standing by Burgess busily conning the schooner as she glided in now towards the shore.

"Yes," cried the Don proudly; "it is what you call all right. You see there will be no fighting now."

_Bang_! went a gun from the fort, and the lads started as they gazed at the grey ball of smoke which began to turn golden as it rose in the air.

"They're reckoning without the fort," said Fitz excitedly, as he strained his eyes in vain for the ball which he expected to see come skipping over the smooth water.

"Yes," said Poole.--"No: it was a blank. Look, they are hauling down the flag. Oh, it's all right. A regular walk-over. Three cheers for Don Ramon!"

"Yes," shouted the skipper. "With a will, my lads! Three cheers for Don Ramon!" And they were given with such energy that the Don sprang up upon the cabin-light, to bow and press his hands to his breast.

He was down again the next instant, to run to the skipper and catch and wring his hands.

"You see," he cried, "the people are with me. But you will help me still?"

"As far as I can," was the reply; "but you must not call upon me to land my men and help you in your fight with Villarayo."

"No?" said the Don, in a questioning way.

"No," replied the skipper. "The fight at the hacienda was an exception. I was driven to that."

"But you will help me still? The arms--the ammunition?"

"Yes; it is our duty to land everything safely to your order."

"Then I want the rifles and cartridges now."

"Yes," said the skipper. "You feel satisfied that it will be safe to have them landed?"

"Quite. So as to arm my friends."

"Then as soon as your men are ashore I will have the cases got up from the hold."

"No," said Don Ramon; "you must do it now. Have them up on deck so that my people can bear them ashore as soon as we reach the wharf."

"It shall be done," said the skipper quietly. "All that I require is your authority, that you take them in charge."

"I give you my authority before all your witnesses," replied Don Ramon proudly; "and I take them in charge. Is that sufficient?"

"Quite, sir. Mr Burgess, you will lay the schooner alongside the wharf. Pass the word for the carpenter and eight or ten men. I want these tarpaulins and hatches off. Order your men back, Don Ramon. I want room for mine to work."

It was a busy scene that followed. Sails were lowered, for they were close in now; hammers were ringing; the way down into the hold was laid bare; tackle was rigged up; and by the time the schooner lay alongside a fairly-made wharf, a dozen long white cases bound with hoop-iron lay piled up upon the deck, while dozens more lay waiting to take their place. The excitement was tremendous; the wharf and its approaches were crowded by an enthusiastic mob, eager and clamouring for arms, which during the next hour were lavishly supplied, along with a sufficiency of ammunition, with the result that Don Ramon's little force had grown into a well-armed crowd, so full of enthusiasm that they gave promise, if not of victory, of making a desperate defence.

At last, with the help of those who seemed to be among the chief people of the place, the little army, well-armed, was marched away from the waterside to take up strategic positions under Don Ramon's instructions, after which he returned to where the skipper and his men had opened another hatch and were busily hoisting up the little battery of six-pounder field-guns, with their limbers, everything being of the newest and most finished kind. These, with their cases of ammunition, proving much heavier than they looked, were swung round from the deck with the tackle necessary and landed upon the wharf, where they were seized upon at once by the Don's roughly-selected artillery-men, and at last dragged off by teams of mules to the places of vantage where they were to be stationed; and all amidst a scene of the wildest enthusiasm.

As the last gun was landed, hastily put together, and seized and dragged away by a human team, Don Ramon came back from the shore, palpitating with emotion, and hurrying to where the skipper stood upon the deck with the lads, wiping his face after superintending every part of the delivery himself.

"There, Don Ramon," he cried, "my work's done, and you have got everything safe. I hope your fellows will be careful with the ammunition."

"Yes, yes," was the reply; "everything is being done. I have come back to thank you. If you do not see me again yet awhile, it is because I am over yonder--because I am wanted everywhere at once. Captain Reed, and you, my brave young friends, I want to tell you of the gratitude I feel, but--but--my heart is too full. I cannot speak. But one word; to-morrow the enemy will be here, a great battle will rage, for my people will fight now to the very death. If I fall--" He stopped short.

He truly could say no more, and waving his hands to them, he sprang back on to the wharf out of the light cast by the swinging lanterns, which had for some time past thrown their weird gleams upon the scene, and was gone. _

Read next: Chapter 36. Real War

Read previous: Chapter 34. No Burgess Aboard

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