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In the King's Name: The Cruise of the "Kestrel", a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 19. In The Middle Watch |
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_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. IN THE MIDDLE WATCH How long Hilary had been asleep he did not know, but he was aroused suddenly by something touching his face, and he lay there wide awake on the instant, wondering what it meant. And now for the first time the hardship of his position came with renewed force. He was accustomed to a rough life on board ship, where in those days there were few of the luxuries of civilisation, but there he had a tolerably comfortable bed. Here he had straw, and the absence of a coverlet of any description made him terribly cold. The cold chill did not last many seconds after his awaking, for he felt a strange sensation of heat come over him; his hands grew moist, and in a state of intense excitement he lay wondering what it was that had touched his face. He could not be sure, but certainly it felt like a cold, soft hand, and he waited for a renewal of the touch, determined to grasp at it if it came again. He was as brave as most lads of his age, but as he lay there, startled into a sudden wakefulness, it was impossible to help thinking of Adela's words spoken that morning and his own light remarks, and for a time he felt in a strange state of perturbation. All was perfectly still, and it was so dark that he could not for some time make out the shape of the window against the night sky; but inside his prison there was a faint light, so faint that it did not make the wall visible, and towards this he strained his eyes, wondering whence it came. "Why, what a coward I am!" he said to himself, as he made an effort to master his childish fears. "Ghosts, indeed! What nonsense! I'm worse than a child--afraid of being in the dark." He lay listening with the straw rustling at his slightest movement, and then, unable to bear the uncertainty longer, he started up on one elbow. As he did so there was a quick noise to his right, and he turned sharply in that direction. "I might have known it," he muttered--"rats. I daresay they swarm in this old place. How did that fellow get in? I saw no holes." Unable to answer the question, he turned his attention to the faint light that seemed to pervade the place, and, after a time, he made out that it struck down through some crack or crevice in the ceiling. As he tried to make out where, it seemed to die away, leaving the place as black as ever; but now, in place of the depressing silence, he could hear that something was going on. There was a dull noise somewhere below him, making his heart beat fast with excitement, for it was an endorsement of his ideas that there was a cellar or vault. Then, in the distance, he fancied he could hear the rattle of chains, and the impatient stamp of a horse, with once or twice, but very faintly heard, a quick order or ejaculation. "I wonder whether there are many rats here?" he thought, for he wanted to get up and clamber to the window, and look out to see if he could witness any of the proceedings of his captors. It was an unpleasant thought that about the rats, for, as a matter of course, he began directly afterwards to recall all the old stories about people being attacked by rats, and half devoured by the fierce little animals; and it was some time before he could shake off the horrible idea that if he moved dozens of the little creatures might attack him. Making an effort over himself to master his cowardly feelings, he sprang up and stood listening; but there was not so much as a scuffle of the tiny feet, and groping his way to the wall beneath the window, he climbed up and looked out, but could see nothing, only hear voices from the other side of the house. Directly after, though, he heard some one apparently coming to his prison; for there were the steps upon the boarded floor, then others upon a stone passage, and a light shone beneath his door. "They sha'n't find me up here," he thought; and he lowered himself down; but, to his surprise, instead of whoever it was coming right to his door, he seemed to go down some steps, with another following him. The light disappeared, and then the footsteps ceased, and he could hear the rumbling mutter of voices below his feet. "I hope they are not getting up a gunpowder plot below," said Hilary to himself, for his dread had given place to curiosity. "I'll be bound to say that there's a regular store of good things down there waiting to be turned into prize-money for my lads when I once get back on board. Hallo! here they come again." The ascending steps were heard plainly enough, and the light reappeared, shining feebly beneath the door; and, going softly across, Hilary looked through the great keyhole, and could see the ill-looking man Allstone with a candle in one hand and a little keg that might have contained gunpowder or spirit upon his shoulder. "Here," he whispered to his companion, "lay hold while I lock up." It was all in a moment. The keg was being passed from one to the other, when, between them, they let it fall with a crash, knocking the candle out of Allstone's hands. Hilary saw the flash of the contents of the keg as the candle fell upon the stones; then there was the noise of a dull explosion that rattled the door; and as the prisoner started back from the door a stream of blue fire began to run beneath it, and he heard one of the men yell out: "There's that young officer in there, and he'll be burned to death!" _ |
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