Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Fitz the Filibuster > This page
Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 55. Boarding The Gunboat |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE. BOARDING THE GUNBOAT That evening, followed by a heterogeneous fleet of about twenty small vessels crammed with fighting men, the _Teal_ sailed again, and their time of arrival was so contrived that dawn of the next morning but one found the little fleet in delightfully calm weather forming a semi-circle from one point of the shore to the other, the focus of its radius being formed by the gunboat on the rocks. The plans had been made on the voyage, and as there was plenty of water for every vessel but the schooner, the latter's boats, well filled with men, alone accompanied the rest. It was an attack, but no defence, for as soon as the crew of the gunboat realised the formidable nature and numbers of the expedition, they took to the boats to try and escape to the shore. But the cliffs forbade this, and after another attempt or two to get away, all surrendered and gave up their arms, ready, as had been predicted, to begin cheering Don Ramon, the officers as they gave up their swords humbly asking to be allowed to retain their positions under the new Government, for there seemed to be a general acceptation of the fact now that the petty war was at an end. Don Ramon's answer to this was to accept the services of the officers and the best of the men. The rest were boated off to the mouth of the river and set ashore. "Ornamental, I call it," said Chips, as he sat forward in one of the schooner's boats commanded by Poole, in which, as a matter of course, Fitz had taken his place. "What is, Chips?" said Poole. "Do you mean your head?" "My head, sir," said the carpenter, staring. "Well, no, sir, I didn't mean my head. 'Tain't a bad one as it goes, but I never set myself up for a good-looking chap, one of your handsome sort. I allus left that to the Camel here." The men, who were resting on their oars, burst into a roar of laughter, and the cook laughing as heartily as the rest and displaying his great teeth, but his mirth was silent. "Hark at him," he said. "Chips is a wonderful man for a joke." "Nay, and I never set up as a joker either," said the carpenter; "but about this 'ere head of mine, I allus reckoned it was more useful than ornamental. What did you mean was the matter with it, Mr Poole?" "Oh, only that it was swelled out so since you've been head contractor and engineer-in-chief for the getting the gunboat off the rocks. Doesn't your hat feel very tight?" "Nay, sir, and you are all wrong, for there's such a breeze here coming off the sea, hitting slap agin the rocks and coming back right in your face, that I have been longing for a piece of paper to fold up and put inside the band of my hat to make it tight. Why I nearly lost it twice." "Oh," said Poole, "I thought it must be swelled. You've grown so important ever since you took the job." "Never mind what he says, Chips," cried Fitz, "he's only chaffing you." "Bless your 'eart, sir," cried the carpenter, "I know: this aren't the first voyage I've had with Master Poole." "But what do you mean about being ornamental?" said Poole. "Oh, us Teals, sir, and our boats. Here have we been figuring about holding up our rifles in the sun, and with these here cutlashes getting in the men's way wherever we rowed. Regular ornamental I calls us, never so much as fired a shot or hit any one on the nose with one's fist. We have done a bit of shouting though. I've hooroared till if I had tried to do any more, I should roar like a sick bull in a cow-yard shut up to eat straw, while all the cows were in the next field getting fat on grass. I want to know what's the use of our coming at all!" "As supporters of the Don," said Fitz; "for prestige." "For what, sir?" "Prestige," said Fitz, laughing. "Oh! that's it, was it, sir? Well, I'm glad you told me. Where does that come in?" "Why, all through. Shows how English men-of-war's-men have helped to frighten these mongrels into surrender. Haven't you?" "Well, I dunno about me, sir. I dare say the sight of the Camel there has scared them a bit. Wherever he showed his teeth, they must have said to themselves, 'What a beggar that would be to bite!' And I suppose that made them a bit the readier to chuck it up as they did. But it's just what I said. We Teals have been ornamental all through this job, and I should have liked to have had just one more go in by way of putting a neat finish." "Oh, you've got job enough coming off," said Poole. "There's your work," and he pointed to the gunboat lying about a quarter of a mile away. The carpenter became serious directly, frowned severely, laid his coxswain's boat-hook across his knees, and took off his straw hat to give his dewy forehead a couple of wipes with his bare mahogany-brown arms. "Yes, gentlemen," he said, "that's a big handful for one man, and I feel a bit staggered, and get thinking every now and then that it was the biggest bit of cheek I ever showed in my life." "What was?" said Fitz. "What was, sir? Why, to say that I would get that there vessel off them rocks. There are times when I feel skeered, and ready to tuck my tail between my legs and run away like a frightened dog." "You!" cried Fitz, and the two lads laughed heartily. "Ah, it's all very fine, gentlemen, you are on the right side. You aren't got it to do. I have, and if I was to try and laugh now it would be on the other side of my mouth." "Get out," said Poole, "you'll do it right enough. Won't he, Fitz?" "Of course." "Think so, gentlemen?" "To be sure we do," cried Fitz. "You'll do it, Chips. Go in and win." "Thank you, sir," said the man, rather sadly. "I did say I'd do it, didn't I?" "To be sure you did." "Well then, of course I must try." "To be sure you must," cried Fitz. "Why, you'll be able to do it in broad daylight with nobody to interrupt you." "So I shall, Mr Burnett, sir. It won't be like swarming up her side in the dark, expecting a couple of dozen of them half-bred niggers to come at you with their long knives ready to pitch you overboard. Here: I am glad you talked. I was getting all in the downs like over that job, when it aren't half so 'ard as for a young gent like you to swarm up that anker, that very _one_ yonder as is hanging from the cat-head now, and then taking out that breech-block and--" "There, that will do," cried Fitz, turning scarlet; "I don't want to hear any more about that. I say, Chips, how do you mean to begin?" The carpenter screwed his face up into a very cunning smile. "Like me to tell you, sir?" "Of course," cried the boys in a breath. "Well," said the carpenter, "you are both very pleasant young gents as has allus been good friends to me, and I'd tell you in a minute but for one reason." "You don't want your messmates to know your plans?" said Fitz quickly. "Oh no, sir, it's a bigger reason than that. You see, it's just like this 'ere. I'll tell you, only don't let 'em know in the other boat. You see there's Mr Burgess yonder, and old Butters." "Well, don't make such a rigmarole of it all, Chips," cried Poole. "What's your big reason?" "Well, sir, it's just this 'ere," said the carpenter solemnly. "I'll be blessed if I know it myself." "Bah!" cried Poole angrily. "What I want is clean decks, with all them there trash cleared away, and time for me and the bosun having the craft to ourselves just to go round and smell it all over before we begin." "Of course," cried Poole. "You see, it's a big job, gentlemen, and it's no use for us to roosh it. What I want is for us to be able to lay this 'ere boat aboard, and leave to begin. I want room, sir, and to see what tools I want, and--" "Ahoy there, Mr Poole!" came from the next boat. "Let your men give way and follow me. I am going to board the gunboat now, and put a prize crew on board." "Ay, ay, sir," cried Poole; and then to the carpenter, who sat moistening his hands prior to giving them a rub on his knees, "There you are, Chips. Give way, my lads. We are going to make fast a tow-rope to the gunboat's stern. Keep your eyes open, and you will see how Chips will haul her off." There was another laugh as the men bent to their oars, rowing so vigorously that several of the small craft full of Don Ramon's followers, hanging round the ponderous-looking craft upon the rocks, hurriedly made way as if half expecting to be run down, and a few minutes later the schooner's boats, headed by Mr Burgess, were alongside their late dangerous enemy, to spring on board, the Spanish crew drawing back to the other side to crowd together and look carelessly on, all idea of resistance being at an end. _ |
||