"Well, that depends on what the lads call the spaniel dogs. The dad
doesn't want it to be too serious, of course, but we can't help it if
these fellows make our lads savage. You see, we've got cutlasses and
rifles, and fellows forget to be gentle if they are hurt."
"But we are not at war with Don Villarayo's State."
"No," said Poole, "and Villarayo is not at war with our schooner and the
men, but if he begins giving us Olivers he must expect to get Rolands
back. Those who play at bowls, you know, must expect rubbers, and when
Englishmen rub, they rub hard."
Fitz half turned away to look astern. "I say," he said, "aren't they a
long time coming?"
"No; they had a long way to row."
"Seems a long time. Perhaps they have thought better of it and gone
back."
"Think so? Well, I don't. They are sure to come. But I dare say it
will be a good quarter of an hour yet--perhaps half."
"Well," said Fitz, "for my part, I--" He stopped short, and Poole looked
at him curiously.
"Well?" he said. "You what? What were you going to say?"
"Nothing. You'd only think that I was afraid."
"Oh, I know," said Poole. "You were going to say that you hope it won't
turn out serious. I shouldn't think that you were afraid. I feel just
the same. But you may make up your mind for one thing. We are in the
strongest position, and Villarayo's sailors won't be allowed to take the
_Teal_. If it comes to bloodshed, it's their doing, mind, and not ours.
Now, don't let's talk any more."
"Why not?" said Fitz. "I feel as if I must. Perhaps I shouldn't if I
were one of your crew, and like that."
He pointed quickly to his companion's belt, from which hung a sword, and
then quickly touched the flap of the little holster buttoned over the
brass stud. "You won't use that, will you?" he said. "Not if I can
help it," was the reply. "Help it! Why, of course you needn't unless
you like."
"Well, I shouldn't like to, of course. But if you were I, and you saw
one of these fellows aiming at one of your men, say at old Butters or
Chips, setting aside the dad, wouldn't you try and whip it out to have
first shot?"
Fitz nodded shortly, and for the time being the conversation ceased,
while the lads' attention was taken up by the sight of the Camel, who
after making a rattling noise as if stoking his fire in the galley, shut
the door with a bang, and came out red-faced and hot, wiping his hands
prior to buckling on a belt with its cutlass and then helping himself to
a capstan-bar.
It was only a few minutes later that the bows of a large cutter came in
sight, followed by the regularly dipping oars of the crew of swarthy
sailors who were pulling hard.
The next moment the uniforms of two officers could be made out in the
stern-sheets, where they sat surrounded by what answered to marines, and
before the cutter had come many yards the bows of its consort appeared.
As they came within sight of the schooner a cheer arose, a sort of
imitation British cheer, which had a curious effect upon the schooner's
crew, for to them it seemed so comic that they laughed; but a growl from
the mate made every one intent for the serious work in hand, as at the
next order they divided in two parties, each taking one side of the
schooner for the defence under command of the skipper and his chief
officer.
"You understand, Burgess?" said the former sternly. "You will keep a
sharp eye on us, and I'll keep one on you. It must be a case of the one
helping the other who is pressed."
The mate grunted, and the skipper spoke out to his men.
"Look here, my lads," he said; "we are not at war, and I want no
bloodshed. Use your capstan-bars as hard as you like, and tumble them
back into their boats, or overboard. No cutlass, edge or point, unless
I give the word."
The answer was a cheer, and then all eyes were directed to the boats,
which were coming faster through the water now, till, at a command from
the foremost stern-sheets, the men slackened and waited for their
consort to come up abreast.
Another command was given, when the oars dipped faster all together, the
boats dividing so as to take the schooner starboard and port.
"Not going to summon us to surrender?" said the skipper sharply. "Very
well; but I think we shall make them speak."
The two boys stood together in the stern, close to the wheel, seeing the
boats divide and pass them on either hand; and then with hearts
throbbing they waited for what was to come--and not for long.
Matters moved quickly now, till the boats bumped and grazed against the
schooner's sides, two sharp orders rang out as their coxswains hooked
on, and then with a strange snarling roar their crews began to scramble
up to the bulwarks, and with very bad success. They had not far to go,
for the schooner's bulwarks were very low for a sea-going vessel, but
here was the main defence, the nets fully ten feet high and very
strong--a defence suggestive of the old gladiatorial fight between the
Retiarius, or net and trident-bearer, and the Secutor, or sword and
shield-carrying man-at-arms.
There was no firing then; the Spaniards seized the net and began to
climb, some becoming entangled, as in their hurry a leg or an arm
slipped through, while the defenders dashed at them and brought their
capstan-bars into use, crack and thud resounding, sending some back upon
their companions, others into the boats, while three or four splashes
announced the fall of unfortunates into the water.
Loud shouts came from the boats as the officers urged the men on, and
from each an officer in uniform began to climb now and lead, followed by
quite a crowd on either side, some of them hacking at the stout cord
with their cutlasses, but doing little mischief, crippled as they were
by the sharp blows which were hailed down by the schooner's crew, upon
hand, foot, and now and then upon some unlucky head.
Chips the carpenter, who was nothing without making some improvement
upon the acts of his fellows, made a dash at the officer leading the
attacking boat on the starboard side, delivering a thrust with the bar
he carried, which passed right through the large mesh of the net,
catching the Spaniard in the chest and sending him backwards into the
boat.
"That's what I calls a Canterbury poke, dear boys," he cried. "Let 'em
have it, my lads. The beggars look like so many flies in a spider's
web; and we are the spiders."
The shouting, yelling, and struggling did not last five minutes. Man
after man succeeded the fallen, and then it was all over, the boats
floating back with the current until they were checked by those in
command, who ordered the oars out and the men to row. But it was some
little time before the confusion on board each could be mastered, and
the disabled portions of the crew drawn aside.
"Well done, my lads!" cried the skipper. "Couldn't be better!"
"Here," shouted the mate, "a couple of you up aloft and tighten that net
up to the stay. Two more of you get a bit of signal-line and lace up
those holes."
"Ay, ay, sir!" came readily enough, and the men rushed to their duty.
"Think that they have had enough of it?" said Fitz huskily.
"Not they," replied Poole. "We shall hear directly what they have got
to say."
He had scarcely spoken before there was a fierce hail from one of the
boats, whose commander shouted in Spanish to the skipper to surrender;
and upon receiving a defiant reply in his own tongue, the officer
roared--
"Surrender, you scum, or I'll order my men to fire; and as soon as you
are my prisoners I'll hang you all, like the dogs you are."
"Back with you to your ship, you idiot, before you get worse off," cried
the captain sternly. "Dogs can bite, and when English dogs do, they
hold on."
"Surrender!" roared the officer again, "or I fire."
"At the first shot from your boat," cried the skipper, "I'll give the
order too; and my men from shelter can pick off yours much faster than
yours from the open boat."
"Insolent dog!" roared the officer, and raising a revolver he fired at
the skipper, the bullet whistling just above his head.
In an instant Poole's revolver was out, and without aiming he fired too
in the direction of the boat. He fired again and again over the
attacking party's heads, until the whole of the six chambers were empty,
and with the effect of making the Republican sailors cease rowing, while
their boats drifted with the current, rapidly increasing the distance.
The order to fire from the boats did not come, but the second boat
closed up to the first, and a loud and excited colloquy arose, there
being evidently a difference of opinion between the leaders, one officer
being for another attack; the second--so the skipper interpreted it from
such of the words as he could catch--being for giving up and going back
to the gunboat for advice.
And all the time, both boats still in confusion drifted farther and
farther away; but at last the fiery leader of the first gained the day;
his fellow gave up, and when the order was given to advance once more in
the first boat he supplemented it in the second, and a low deep murmur
rose up.
"Why, Fitz," whispered Poole, "they have had enough of it. The mongrels
won't come on."
"Think so?" whispered back Fitz, gazing excitedly over the stern, while
Poole's fingers were busy thrusting in fresh cartridges till his
revolver chambers were full.
"Yes, it's plain enough," cried Poole, for the voices of the officers
could be heard angrily threatening and abusing their men; but all in
vain.
There was the appearance of struggles going on, and in one boat the sun
flashed two or three times from the blade of a sword as it was raised in
the air and used as a weapon of correction, its owner striking viciously
at his mutinous men.
"Ah!" ejaculated Fitz. "That's done it. They are more afraid of him
than they are of us--of you, I mean. They are coming on again."
For the oars were dipping, making the water foam once more, as the crews
in both the boats began to pull with all their might. But only half;
the others backed water, and directly after the boats' heads had been
turned and they were being rowed back as hard as they would go, till
they disappeared round the first bend to the tune of a triumphant cheer
given in strong chorus by every man upon the _Teal_.
Just at that moment Fitz clapped one hand to his cheek, for it felt hot,
consequent upon the thought having struck him, that in his excitement he
had been cheering too. That burning sensation was the result of a hint
from his conscience that such conduct was not creditable to a young
officer in the Royal Navy.