The middy did not say much, but a very short time later he proved that
he shared his companion's feelings, both lads sleeping with all their
might, and trying to make up for a great deal of exertion connected with
their disturbed existence of the past few days.
It is generally conceded by the thoughtful over such matters, that
dreams come after the more solid portion of a person's sleep, that they
are connected with a time when the rested brain is preparing to become
active once again, and set to work in its daily routine of thought.
This may be the rule, but it is said that there is no rule without an
exception. Fitz Burnett's slumber in his hot, stuffy berth was one of
these exceptions, and rather a remarkable one too, for almost directly
after dropping off he began to dream in the most outrageous manner, that
proving for him a sort of Arabian Night which had somehow been blown
across on the equatorial winds to Central America. The whole of his
dream was vivid in the extreme while it was in progress, and if it could
have been transcribed then, no doubt it would have proved to be of the
most intense interest; but unfortunately it had to be recalled the next
morning when its clearness was muddled, the sharpness of its features
blurred.
Two or three times over he tried to dismiss it from his mind altogether,
for it worried him; but it absolutely refused to be got rid of, and kept
coming back with the utmost persistency, making him feel bound to drag
it back and try to set it in order, though this proved very difficult.
It was some time before he could get hold of the thread at all, and at
the first pull he found that he drew up several threads, tangled and
knotted up in the most inextricable confusion, while they were all in
some way connected with Chips the carpenter's plans.
He did not want the task: it bothered him, for in the broad sunshine of
the morning Chips's notions seemed to him to be ludicrously absurd; but
somehow he felt bound to go on disentangling them, because he was, as it
were, in some way mixed up with them, and had been during the night
helping him to carry them out.
"Makes my head feel quite hot," he said to himself, as he leaned over
the bulwark looking down at the water hurrying past the schooner. "I
haven't got a fever coming on, have I? If it doesn't all soon go off
I'll ask Captain Reed to give me some of his quinine. Ugh! Horribly
bitter stuff! I have had enough physic this voyage to last me for a
year."
And then he lapsed into a sort of dreamy state in which he dragged out
of his sleeping adventures that he had been acting as a sort of
carpenter's boy, carrying the bag, which weighed him down, while all the
time he had to keep handing gigantic augers to Chips, and wiping his
forehead every now and then with handfuls of shavings, while his master
kept on turning away, trying to bore holes through the steel plates of
the gunboat, and never making so much as a scratch. Then came a rest,
and he and Chips were lying down together in a beautiful summer-house
built upon a shelf of the cliff, with lovely vines running all over it
covered with brilliant flowers, and growing higher and higher, with the
upper parts laden with fruit which somehow seemed to be like beans. He
did not know why it was, but his rest in this beautiful vine-shaded
place, whose coverings seemed to grow right up into the skies, was
disturbed by the carpenter's banter, for Chips kept calling him Jack,
and laughing at him for selling his mother's cow for a handful of beans,
and asking why he didn't begin to climb right up to the top of the great
stalk into the giant land. Before he could answer they were back again
by the side of the gunboat, seated in the dinghy, and Chips was turning
away at his cross-handled auger, which now seemed to go through the
steel as easily as if it were cheese-rind, while when the dreamer took
hold of a handful of the shavings that were turned out, they were of
bright steel, and so hard and sharp that they made the carpenter angry
because they did not remove the perspiration and only scratched his
face. But he kept on turning all the time, till the auger had gone in
about six inches, when he left off and asked for another, driving this
in at a tremendous rate and again asking for another and another, until
he had driven in a whole series of them which extended from the level of
the dinghy's gunwale right up the gunboat's side.
Then it seemed to the sleeper that the dinghy was passed along to the
war-vessel's stern, where Chips made her fast to the rudder-chains, and
then held out his hand for the powder-bag, which was so big that it
filled up all the bottom of the little boat and swelled right over the
side. It was very heavy, but Fitz felt that it must be done, though it
was not proper work for a young officer in Her Majesty's Navy.
But Chips was sitting astride the rudder, holding out his hands, and the
bag was obliged to be passed up. Directly afterwards it was made fast,
and Chips came back holding a black string moistened with gunpowder, and
holding out the end to him to light with a match. This he did, after
striking many which would not go off because his hands were wet; and
then he sat back watching the powder sparkle as it gradually burned
along the string towards the neck of the bag full of black powder, which
somehow seemed to be the soot from one of the chimneys at home, while
Chips the carpenter was only the sweep.
Fitz remembered his sensations of horror as he sat expecting to see the
explosion which would blow him into the water; and his dread was
agonising; but just then the dinghy began to glide along till it was
underneath the augers extending upwards like a ladder, and up these the
carpenter climbed, beckoning him to follow, to the gunboat's deck, where
all the Spanish sailors were lying fast asleep.
Here he seemed to know that he must step cautiously for fear of treading
on and waking the crew; but Chips did not seem to mind at all, going
straight in one stride right to where the big breech-loader lay
amidships on its carriage, waiting to be lifted out and dropped
overboard.
And here the confused muddle of dreams became condensed into a good
solid nightmare that would not go, for Fitz felt himself obliged to step
to the heaviest part of the huge gun and lift, while Chips took the
light end and grinned at him in his efforts to raise it, while as he
lifted, and they got the gun poised between them, each with his clasped
hands underneath, it kept going down again as if to crush his toes. But
he felt no pain, and kept on lifting again and again, till somehow it
seemed that they were doing this not upon the gunboat's planks, and that
they could not get it overboard because the deck was that shown in the
tinselled picture of the Red Rover hanging upon the wall of the
gardener's cottage at home, while the sea beyond was only paper painted
blue. All the same, though, and in spite of his holding one end of the
gun, Chips was there, wearing a scarlet sash and waving a black flag
upon which was a grinning skull and cross-bones.
When he got as far as that, Fitz could get no farther, for things grew
rather too much entangled; so much so that it seemed to him that he
awoke just then with his brain seething and confusion worse confounded,
telling himself that he must have had the nightmare very badly indeed,
and wondering whether it was due to fever coming on, or something
indigestible he had had to eat.
But he said nothing about his dream for some hours, long after he had
been on deck, to find that there had been no alarm during the night, had
been refreshed by breakfast, and had heard that the gunboat was at
anchor where she had been the previous night, and this from Mr
Burgess's lips, for he had been down stream with the boat himself.
It was getting towards mid-day, when the sun was shining with full
power, and the opinion was strong on deck that if the gunboat people
intended to make another attack they would defer it till the day was not
quite so hot.
Just then Fitz Burnett seemed to come all at once to a conclusion about
his confused dream. Perhaps it was due to the heat in that valley,
having ripened his thoughts. Whatever it might have been, he hurried to
Poole, got hold of his arm, and told him to come forward into the bows.
"What for?" asked Poole.
"Because there's no one there, and we can talk."
"All right," said the lad. Leading the way he perched himself astride
upon the bowsprit and signified that his companion should follow his
example; and there they sat, with the loose jib-sail flapping gently to
and fro and forming an awning half the time.
"Now then," said Poole, "what is it? You look as if you had found
something, or heard some news. Is the gunboat going away?"
"I wish it were," was the reply. "I wanted to tell you that I had last
night such a dream."
"Had you? Well, are you going to tell it to me?"
"No; impossible, for I can't recollect it all myself, only the stupid
and muddled part of it. But I have been trying to puzzle it out this
morning, and that set me thinking about other things as well, till at
last, all of a sudden, I got the very idea we want."
"You have! What is it?" cried Poole excitedly. "Tell me gently, for
perhaps I could not bear it all at once."
"It's the way to disable the gunboat."
"Do you mean it?"
"Yes."
"A good sensible, possible way, that could be done?"
"Yes, and by one person too, if he had the pluck."