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Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown Isle, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 16. How Mark Passed A Bad Night |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. HOW MARK PASSED A BAD NIGHT The prisoners had been gathered together in the cabins, of which the whole were in their possession, and were still discussing various plans for proceeding when the splash of oars was heard through the open cabin-window, and as Mark was one of the first to run and look out he could plainly see that the prau they had passed was returning, her course being marked by the undulating streams of light which flashed away at each dip of the long sweeps. In a few minutes the vessel had passed, going right up to the bows of the _Petrel_, and now a loud burst of talking was heard on the night air. It rose and fell and rose again, quite a discussion full of commands and protests, so they seemed from the tones of the voices, lasting for a full quarter of an hour, and then all was still, not so much as the tramp of a foot being heard upon the deck of the ship. The ladies had retired into one of the cabins, the sailors seated themselves quietly in one corner, sipping the cold grog the captain gave them, and Mark sat near his father listening to the discussion going on. The major was for a bold attack upon the pirates and driving them overboard. Morgan, who was wounded, proposed that the ladies should be lowered down into the boat at once, and that they should escape and take refuge upon the island. Gregory said scarcely anything, and when pressed he cried in a harsh tone: "I'm ready for what my captain settles to do. Then I'll do my best, but I'll not take any responsibility." "But you'll fight, Gregory, if called on, eh?" said the major. "Try me," replied the first-mate gruffly. "Well, Captain Strong, what's it to be?" said the major; "a bold attack upon the scoundrelly set of jail-sweepings and a lesson for them in British valour?" "No attack, Major O'Halloran, but a bold defence, sir. Weak as we are it is the better policy." "Then you mean to hold the ship, Strong?" "To the last," said the captain sternly. "Good!" said Gregory. "Then let's get to work before it's daylight." "What are you going to do?" "First thing, sir, is to get out a few tools I have in my cabin and take down two or three doors." "What for?" "To screw up over the skylights, for that is our weak point. The scoundrels could stand up there and shoot us down or spear us as they pleased." "Right!" said Captain Strong shortly. "And while you do that we'll strengthen the barricade across the door." "Serve that the same," said the first-mate. "A couple of doors can be screwed across silently. Then up against them you can plant your chests and cases and the place will be as firm again." "Ah, Gregory, you were meant for a soldier!" said the major sadly. "My word, sir, what a sapper you would have made!" "And what should I have done for a first-mate?" said the captain pleasantly. "Well, we won't stop passing compliments," said the major. "Let's get to work. You're hurt, captain, so you sit down and give orders to your boy to lay out the fighting tools. Get 'em all ready, ammunition and all. Bedad, sir, I haven't had a fight since I was up in the hill country having a turn at the niggers, and this promises to be a rare treat." "I'll have everything ready for your feast, major," said the captain sadly. "Hold up, man, and don't talk as if you had lost a half-sovereign, or, worse still, your ship. Keep a good heart, as I do. Sure, captain, haven't I got my two darlings on board--and do you think I don't love them?" he added in a whisper. The captain's answer was a firm grip of the hand extended to him in the dark. "That's it, my boy," whispered the major. "Now, next time you speak try and forget you are wounded, if you can, and say things cheerily. It puts heart in your men and yourself too. That's the beauty of being a soldier, sir. He isn't often called upon to fight; but when he does he has to take his wounds pleasantly, and set an example to his men by dying with a smile on his lip and a laugh in his eye." Meanwhile Mr Gregory had got out the tool-drawer from his chest, and was busily attacking the lath which kept in place the sliding-door of his cabin. It was a toughish task, but with Small and Widgeon for his helpmates he soon had it off, and before long the two sailors were holding it crosswise over the saloon sky-light, while Mr Gregory rapidly secured it in its place with screws. Another and another was fitted up in a similar way, and all so silently that very little was heard beyond the heavy breathing of the first-mate as he drove the screws home. "There, major!" he whispered; "those doors are not very strong, but wherever they drive through a hole we can put a gun to that place as easily as they can." "And better, too," said the major. "Now, then, as soon as you get a couple more cabin-doors off, we'll move away these boxes and things the captain has clapped here, and you shall screw up your barricade." "I'll soon be ready," said the mate; and he kept his word; while, as soon as he had let his two men lift out the second door, the major brought up the reserve, as he called it, the chests piled against the door by the captain, Mrs Strong, and the major's wife, were lifted over, and in an incredibly short time the opening, with the door bolted, was covered breast-high with the other doors, which were securely fastened, and the chests were once more piled up in their places. Meanwhile, in spite of his injury, the captain had been busily engaged placing the weapons in order in his own cabin, off the saloon--the door not being required; and this he carried out by the help of a lamp, Mark eagerly obeying his slightest wishes, with the result that at last there was an ample supply of charged weapons ready, with ammunition so placed as to be at hand. "If it comes to fighting, my boy--which Heaven forbid!" said the captain--"you will take your place here, and as rapidly as you can you will recharge the pieces brought back to you. Now, try that revolver." Mark caught up the weapon. "Unload it." He was sufficiently versed to understand the process, and rapidly drove out each cartridge. "Now reload," said the captain. Mark's fingers were just as active in replacing the cartridges; and this done, the guns were tried in the same way. "I don't see what more we can do," said the captain. "So lie down and have a sleep, my boy. I'll keep watch. To-morrow may be a very weary day for us all." "Don't ask me, father," said the boy in tones of remonstrance. "I feel as if I couldn't sleep to-night. Let me go and talk to mother." "They may be asleep," said the captain. "No; it is not likely. Yes; go if you like." Mark went softly to the cabin-door and tapped. The door was opened softly by Mrs Strong, who held up her hand and then pointed to where Mary O'Halloran lay fast asleep, while her mother was seated by the berth, her head fallen sidewise and resting against her child. Soldier's wife and daughter, they were so inured to peril and anxiety that these did not hinder them from taking necessary rest, and being ready for the troubles of the day to come. There was a tender embrace, a kiss, and Mark stole away once more to return to his father, whom he found seated on a locker faint and exhausted from his injury. "It's a hard fight, Mark," he whispered hoarsely; "and I feel as weak as man can feel. Don't let me go to sleep." "Why not, father? I'll watch and call you if there is anything wrong." "No, my boy," said the captain sadly. "I could not sleep, I believe, after all, even if I tried. It was a momentary weakness." "The captain awake?" said a deep harsh voice. "Yes, Gregory, I'm awake," was the reply. "Well, sir, I think we've done all we can. The lads are asleep; so is Morgan. The major is on guard, and the men understand what to do if they are roused. Now, sir, why don't you turn in?" "No, Gregory; I'll keep watch too." "Well, sir, we mustn't waste strength. If you and the major are going to watch I'll turn in, for I'm dead beat. Hullo! what's that?" There was a low whining sigh, and a faint bark answered the first-mate's question. "Oh, it's that dog again, eh? Well, sir, shall I turn in?" "Yes, Gregory. We'll rouse you if there's anything wrong." "All right!" said the mate; "but it's my opinion that we shall have no fighting at present. They'll wait for wind and get us ashore in some creek hidden among the mangroves, and there plunder the ship." The mate went out, whispered a few words to the major, and then turned in--a process which consisted in lying down on the cabin-floor, with a revolver in his hand; while to the major, who was seated on a chest by the barricaded door, with an unlighted cigar in his lips, it seemed as if Gregory sighed softly and was then fast asleep. Mark got up once or twice and went into the saloon, where all was still. Then he walked to the window and looked out, to find that not a breath of air had arisen, and that the mist was gathering more thickly over the sea. Going back to where his father was seated he too sat down; and then it seemed to him that a dull oval sun rose out of the sea--a sun so dull that its flattened oval shape suggested that it must have been squeezed so as to get nearly all the light out of it. And there that sun stared at him blankly, as if wondering to see him there; while he was as much surprised to see the sun--and more surprised as his brain cleared and he realised that he had been asleep and was staring at the plate-glass cabin-window, and that it was broad day! _ |
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