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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 19. How There Was Another Enemy To Fight |
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_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. HOW THERE WAS ANOTHER ENEMY TO FIGHT It was rapidly growing dark as Billy Widgeon went slowly up to Mark. He limped as he walked, and there was a bandage round one of his short legs. "I've been having a look at that there monkey, Mr Mark, sir," said the little sailor. "He's just come out of his hole, looking scared because he thought the fellows was shouting at him. He came down over the stern and in at one of the windows, and he's been a-making no end of fuss over old Bruff's crocodilly leg, and he doesn't seem to understand it a bit. But I say, sir, what are we going to do next? Some of the chaps is rather bad." "Poor fellows!" said Mark. "I suppose we shall have to fight again." Billy made no answer, for another engagement seemed terrible enough to think of now in cold blood, and they were soon after joined by Small, who said nothing, but held out his hand to Mark, to give the lad's fingers a long silent pressure, which seemed to him to mean only one thing, and that was good-bye. After a time the captain's voice was heard to summon the men, and Small was sent to relieve Gregory; but the mate declined to leave his post, and no attempt was made to enforce obedience. Then half the men were placed at the barricade, and the weapons of the other half were placed by them, while these latter were drawn up by the saloon windows. "What's we going to do?" whispered one of the men to Mark; but he could give no answer. It was now dark, even darker than the previous night, but a slight breeze was beginning to rise in fitful gusts, and there was now and then the ripple of water against the stern. "You've made up your mind then?" said the major. "Yes," replied the captain firmly. "We have done our duty. Now humanity must be heard." The captain then spoke a few words to Mr Gregory, and the question of how the boat was to be brought from where she was secured exactly under the cabin-window was discussed and settled by Mark volunteering to go down. "You lower me into the water with a rope," he said, "and I'll soon swim to her and get in." The captain hesitated for a few moments, and then the sheet-rope was once more brought into use, and with it fastened round his waist Mark climbed out, glanced up at the stern-rail to see if anyone was waiting ready with a spear to thrust him through, and directly after he was lowered into the water. A few strokes took him to the boat, and after a good deal of trying he managed to scramble in. The unfastening was a matter of very few moments, and then with the painter in hand he worked right beneath the cabin-window, when Mr Gregory slid down and joined him. For the next two hours slowly and silently ammunition and such food as they possessed in the shape of preserved meats and such like from the captain's store were lowered down and packed in the bottom of the boat and beneath the thwarts, and this was hardly done when a dull glow seemed to show up the window above their head. "Climb up, Mark, and tell them to put out that light," whispered Mr Gregory. Mark obeyed, not without some difficulty, and found that the saloon was in a state of excitement. "I've been smelling it this last half 'our, sir," said Billy Widgeon, "but I thout it was some queer kind o' bacco as they Malay chaps smoked, so I didn't speak." "Ah, there's no mistake about it, Captain Strong!" said the second-mate; "the ship is on fire, sir. They'll take alarm directly." Almost as he spoke the Malays, who must have been asleep, did take the alarm, and in a minute the whole deck was in an uproar. "We've no time to lose," said the captain, and he ran to the window and whispered down to Gregory what was wrong. "Go down, Small," said the captain then, "and help take the ladies as we lower them. Every man keep to his arms." "Ay, ay, sir." "Is the ammunition down?" "Yes, father," said Mark. "I stowed it myself in the locker." Already the smoke was gathering in the cabin, and bright light shining in through the damaged barricade, but thanks to the example set there was no confusion after the first minute. The captain took his place by the window and gave his orders, and one by one the ladies, the wounded, the dog, and the monkey were lowered down, and then turn by turn the men followed. It now became evident that there was no farther need to fear attack, for the Malays were rapidly quitting the burning ship amid yells and confusion, while the light increased, and fortunately made the spot where the boat lay beneath the stern seem by comparison more dark. At last Mark followed the men, and was resting on the sill trying to recollect whether all the arms were in the boat, when he heard the captain say: "Did you set her on fire?" "My dear boy, no," cried the major. "You proposed burning the ship." "Just as I would if I were in command and about to evacuate a fort, my dear sir; but how could I do this? She caught fire somewhere amidships, I should say from their carelessness. Gun-wads have been smouldering about, perhaps." "Perhaps so," said the captain thoughtfully; and Mark sat with one leg in and one leg out of the window gazing at his father as he stood there, his fine, manly face thrown up for a moment by the glow which shone through a hole in the door as a puff of wind set in through the open stern and wafted back the smoke which seemed to settle down directly. "Well," said the major, speaking as coolly as if he were on parade, "shall I go first?" "I was thinking, major. I can't do it. It seems like breaking my pledges, and acting dishonourably to the owners of the ship to leave her." "My dear Strong," said the major, clapping him on the shoulder, "the more I know of you the more I regret that you took to the sea." "My dear sir," said Captain Strong angrily, "is this a time for compliments?" "It was meant sincerely," replied the major; "but let me point out to you that however painful this may be to you we must go now." "Why?" said the captain. "The Malay scoundrels are escaping to their praus." "Yes, there is no doubt of that." "Then it is my duty to call back my men, and attack the flames." "Now, my dear Strong, even if we had the whole crew instead of half a dozen men, all more or less wounded," said the major, "you know as well as I do that we could not master a fire like this. Look out of the window yonder, how the sea is lit up, and then through that hole; why, the mainmast and rigging must be all in a blaze!" "Yes," said the captain, as if to himself, "from deck to truck, and the burning pitch falling in a fiery rain. But if we could master the flames, now the enemy are gone--" "They would be waiting close at hand to come back and take possession, my dear sir. Come, Strong, you've done your duty to everyone; it is now time to save life." "I cannot go," cried the captain fiercely. "I must have one try first." He ran to the barricade, closely followed by the major, to see that the deck had become quite a furnace, the waves of fire running upward, and seeming to be borne here and there by the strong current of air which the heat produced, and which now swept through the saloon, clearing it of the smoke and rushing out of the jagged openings to fan the flames. The captain stood gazing through for a few minutes without speaking, and then turned sadly away. "It would be impossible," he said. "Is anything wrong?" came in a whisper from the boat to Mark. "No, no," he whispered back; "they are coming directly." "Yes, impossible, my dear fellow," said the major quietly. As he spoke there was a sudden flash and a roar; the barricade was driven in, and Mark felt as if something soft, but of enormous power, drove him from his hold where he sat, so that he fell headlong into the boat, his fall being broken by his coming down upon the men in the bows. He was not hurt, and as he struggled up it was to see that there was comparative darkness and a huge cloud of smoke over them; but directly after, there was a rushing noise, and a glare of light seemed to blaze out, showing the smoke rising red-edged and lurid, while the effect of the explosion seemed to be that there was more food set free for the flames. "Help me up," said Mark excitedly. "Let me go back. They must be killed." "Nay, nay, my lad, it's all right," whispered the first-mate; "they're coming down." It was a fact, for the major slid quickly down the cotton rope, and the captain could be seen leaning out ready to follow, as he did directly and took his place in the boat. "Will you give orders, or shall I?" whispered Gregory, as Mark gazed to right and left, and then back over the stern, where his mother sat by Mary O'Halloran, and as he looked he could see that there was a black shadow of the ship stretching far away over the shining waters. "Go on," said the captain; and, taking an oar to steer, the mate gave a short order, oars were dipped, and the heavily-laden gig moved slowly out from under the stern, the mate keeping her in the shadow as soon as she was turned. In the act of turning Mark caught sight of one of the praus glistening as if gilded, and just a slighter glimpse of the second prau, while for a minute or two all sat in silent dread of their having been seen. But there was no yell to announce their discovery, and directly after they were back in the shelter of the shadow, and moving steadily in the face of a soft breeze farther and farther from the praus. _ |
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