CRUSOE AFLOAT AGAIN.
The midshipman's desire to "get just one eye on that Tom Newcombe," was
gratified now; for, as the jolly-boat rounded the stern of the schooner,
and came alongside, he discovered the captain of the Crusoe band leaning
over the rail. "O, now, you had better keep off, if you don't want to
get into trouble," he drawled. "All hands stand-by, to repel boarders."
"Way enough!" commanded Richardson. "Board with a loud cheer."
"Down with the 'cademy swells!" cried the governor, rushing frantically
to the side, followed by his men. "Pitch 'em overboard as fast as they
come up!"
But that was much easier said than done. The boat's crew whipped out
their cutlasses, and when the chief saw the bright blades flashing
before their eyes, he drew back, and wished for the spears he and his
band had used during the attack on the yacht. The Crusoe men all shrank
away from the rail, for the actions of the students indicated that they
were determined to board the schooner in spite of all opposition, and
that they were quite as determined to use their weapons on the first one
who came within their reach. A few flourishes of the cutlasses cleared
the way for them, and before the governor could think twice, the young
tars had gained a footing on the deck.
"Knock them down! Throw them overboard!" exclaimed Tom Newcombe,
retreating with all possible haste toward the forecastle, closely
followed by the students. "O, now, keep your hands off, Dave Richardson,
or I'll get even with you, some day."
The midshipman, not in the least intimidated by the threat, held fast to
Tom's collar, which he had seized with a vice-like grasp, and dragged
him toward the jolly-boat with one hand, while, in the other, he carried
his cutlass, which he kept whistling through the air in a way that made
the Crusoe men give room with alacrity. Close at his heels followed the
boat's crew, ready to resist any attempt that might be made to rescue
their captive. Richardson hurried him across the deck, and the Crusoe
men, astonished at the audacity of their assailants, and afraid to trust
themselves within reach of the gleaming cutlasses, stood in a group on
the forecastle, not knowing what to do. Tom struggled desperately for
his freedom, sometimes planting his feet firmly on the deck, and pulling
back with all his might; then trying to unclasp the strong fingers that
were holding fast to his collar; but finding that his efforts were
wholly in vain, he began to call lustily for assistance.
"Help! help!" he cried. "Lend a hand, can't you? Are you five fellows
going to stand there and let three spooneys capture me?"
These words aroused the governor, who now, for the first time, seemed to
realize the fact that his crew outnumbered that of the enemy, two to
one, and that it would be a cowardly piece of business to allow them to
make a prisoner of one of his men, before his very eyes, and without a
single effort on his part to rescue him. Tom was the most valuable man
in the band; and after assisting him through so many dangers, he could
not afford to lose him now.
"Handspikes!" yelled the governor. "Down with the 'cademy swells! Knock
'em overboard!"
The Crusoe men rushed forward in a body, two of them armed with
handspikes, two more with the oars that belonged to the skiff, and
Friday flourishing his favorite weapon, the boat-hook. The midshipman
began to get excited and uneasy, but never wavered in his determination
to take Tom a prisoner to the Storm King. "Tumble into the boat, men,"
said he, hurriedly, "and stand by to catch this fellow."
The oarsmen leaped over the rail, without stopping to look before them,
and, to their no small amazement, found themselves struggling in the
water. In the hurry and excitement of the attack, they had not thought
of making the painter of the jolly-boat fast, and she had drifted astern
of the schooner, which had all this while been in motion. But an
unexpected bath in the harbor was no new thing to them, and they were
quite as ready to carry on the fight in the water, as on the deck of
the schooner.
"Pitch him over, sir," said Simmonds, holding his cutlass in his teeth,
and putting up his hands to receive the prisoner. "We'll catch him."
"O, now, I'd just like to see you do it," drawled Tom, seizing the rail
with both hands and holding on with a death grip. "I won't stand no such
treatment. Let me alone, Richardson!"
If Tom wanted to see himself thrown overboard, he was certainly
accommodated; for the words were scarcely out of his mouth, when he flew
through the air, and striking the water head-foremost, went down out of
sight; and the midshipman, without waiting to see what had become of
him, sprang over the rail, just in time to escape from the boat-hook,
with which Friday attempted to catch him by the collar. This movement
created a great commotion among the Crusoe men. They were astonished at
the recklessness of the students, and feared that they were about to
lose Tom after all. Like many others of their class, they had been
accustomed to look upon a well-dressed, gentlemanly-appearing youth as
an arrant coward. The term "spooney," which the Night-hawks had used to
designate a studious, well-behaved boy, meant, with Sam and his crowd, a
fellow who had neither strength nor courage; but they had learned that
the word, as applied to the students, was not exactly correct. They had
discovered that good clothes, strong muscles, and reckless bravery go
together sometimes; and that the crew of the jolly-boat, although they
were young gentlemen, were antagonists not to be despised. The governor
stood for a moment, looking over the rail and watching the fight that
was going on in the water--for Tom still kept up a furious
resistance--and then called out:
"Xury, go to the wheel an' throw the schooner up into the wind; an' the
rest of us man the skiff. Let go Tommy's collar, spooney, or I'll chuck
this handspike at you!"
"Help! help!" roared Tom, who was being pulled through the water toward
the jolly-boat. "Release me at once, Dave Richardson! Hit him, Sam."
The chief made a desperate effort to strike the young officer, but the
latter was just out of reach. Then Sam raised the handspike, and was
about to throw it at the midshipman, but lowered it again, when he took
a second look, and saw that he was likely to hit one as the other. He
hurried off to assist his men who were hauling the skiff alongside, and
then began a most exciting contest for the possession of the prisoner.
Richardson's object was to escape with him, and the governor's to rescue
him. The officer and one of his men held fast to Tom, and Simmonds, who
was an excellent swimmer, struck out for the jolly-boat, hoping to
return with her and pick up his companions before the Crusoe band could
man the skiff. The governor saw and understood the move, and resolved to
defeat it. If the students succeeded in getting Tom into their boat,
Sam's chances for recovering his man would be very slim indeed. "Hurry,
fellers!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "Can't you see what them spooneys are
up to? Man the oars, Will Atkins an' Jack Spaniard," he added, as his
crew sprang into the skiff, "an' give way fur dear life."
Just as the skiff was shoved off from the schooner, Simmonds climbed
into the jolly-boat, and catching up the oars, pulled swiftly to the
assistance of his companions. He was nearer to them than the Crusoe men,
but Atkins and Jack Spaniard were good oarsmen, and they came out ahead
in the race. "Keep away from here, spooney!" exclaimed Friday, shaking
his boat-hook at Simmonds, as the skiff dashed up to the struggling
captain of the Crusoe band, "'taint safe to come no nearer."
"Now, then," cried the chief, seizing the midshipman by the collar, and
plunging his head under the water, "I reckon you'll turn Tommy loose,
won't you?"
The students, knowing that it was useless to contend longer against such
heavy odds, released their prisoner, and dived out of sight to escape
the savage blows which Atkins and Jack Spaniard aimed at them with the
oars. Tom was dragged into the skiff by the governor, who ordered the
band back to the schooner; and the midshipman, after being picked up by
Simmonds, took his seat in the stern of the jolly-boat, and directed her
course up the harbor. He had made a gallant attack upon a superior force
of the enemy, and had succeeded in capturing one of them; but he had got
the worst of the fight in the end, his prisoner had been rescued, and
now the only thing he could do was to report the state of affairs to his
superior officer.
"I am sorry that we are obliged to let them go," drawled Tom, as he
sprang upon the deck of the schooner, and saw the jolly-boat
disappearing in the darkness. "I'd like to have them prisoners long
enough to pay them for the ducking they gave me. Friday, drop the skiff
astern. Fill away, Xury, and hold for the head of the island. Atkins,
are you sailor enough to loose those gaff top-sails?"
"I reckon," was the reply.
"Well, go aloft, then, and do it. Governor, you and Jack Spaniard hoist
the flying jib. We have need of all the rags we can spread, now."
In a few minutes every inch of canvas the Sweepstakes carried had been
given to the breeze, and the little vessel boomed along over the waves
at a terrific rate. The topmasts bent and cracked, the foam rolled away
in great masses from under her bows, and now and then a fierce gust of
wind would fill the sails, and the schooner would roll down until she
seemed on the point of capsizing. Her captain, no longer the coward he
was when he accompanied Mr. Graves on the trial trip of the Storm King,
stood holding fast to the rail, and looking back toward the harbor. He
knew that the fire-bells would soon arouse the town, that the news of
the robbery and the destruction of the yacht would spread like
wild-fire, and that the pursuit would not be long delayed. He wanted a
good start in the race; and he would have spread all the canvas if the
wind had been blowing a gale.
"We've got a long voyage to make, you know, skipper," said the chief,
"an' we must be careful of our vessel."
"But when we are in danger we must get all that we can out of her,"
replied Tom. "Hold her to it, Xury, don't luff an inch. If she can't
stand this breeze, we've no business to go to sea in her. But I don't
discover any signs of the fire yet, do you Sam?"
"No, I don't. Mebbe them swells have put it out."
"O, now, they haven't, either," drawled Tom, who could not be persuaded
to believe that his "splendid idea" had failed, after all the trouble
and danger he had incurred to make it successful. "They couldn't put it
out--there was too much coal-oil in the galley. She must be entirely
consumed by this time; but, if I thought she wasn't, I should be tempted
to go back and try it again."
"There come them spooneys, cap'n," shouted Xury, from his place at the
wheel.
Tom looked toward the village, and could just distinguish the dim
outlines of a vessel which was coming out of the harbor, and appeared to
be following in the schooner's wake. The thought that it was the Storm
King had scarcely passed through his mind, when his mate continued:
"We've wasted a heap of good time in helping you carry out your idea.
You had oughter done your work well, while you were at it. That's the
sloop you tried to burn."
"O, now, you don't know what you are talking about," drawled Tom.
"I reckon I do. I can tell the Storm King as fur as I can see her.
Friday, bust open the door of the cabin, an' bring up the 'squire's
spy-glass."
Friday went forward after a handspike, and Tom leaned his elbows on the
rail and watched the approaching vessel. The thought that this last
grand idea of his would share the fate of all his splendid schemes, had
never once entered his head. He had been certain that it would prove
successful--he did not see how it could be otherwise; but now he was
convinced that it had failed, for he had examined the yacht so often and
so closely, that he knew the exact shape of every sail and rope on her,
and it did not require the aid of the 'squire's spy-glass to satisfy him
that the vessel following in his wake was the one he had tried to
destroy. He knew it was the Storm King. No other sloop of that size
about the village could sail so swiftly, or ride the waves so
gracefully. Even while he leaned over the rail, so filled with rage and
disappointment that he could scarcely breathe, he could not help saying
to himself, as he had done a hundred times before, that she was the
prettiest object in the shape of a vessel that he had ever seen. And now
to think that he must go away from Newport, and leave her in the hands
of his rival! He would never have another opportunity to try any of his
splendid ideas on her; and while he was wandering about the world, a
fugitive from justice, Harry Green would remain in the village,
surrounded with friends, beloved and respected by all who knew him, and,
worse than all, first lieutenant of the Storm King. It was some time
before the captain of the Crusoe band could realize all this; but when
he did, he was so nearly beside himself that he would not have cared a
grain if the schooner had foundered at that moment, carrying all hands,
himself included, to the bottom.
"O, now, did any body in this world ever see or hear of so unlucky a boy
as I am?" yelled Tom, stamping his foot on the deck, and fairly
trembling with anger. "I never can do any thing like other fellows, for
something is forever happening to bother me. Another of my grand ideas
has ended in smoke! The yacht is above water yet. I wish she would
capsize. Go away with your spy-glass, Friday. What do I want with a
spy-glass, when I know it is the Storm King?"
"What did I tell you, cap'n?" said Xury.
"O, now, I want you to hush up!" shouted Tom, placing his hands on the
rail, and jumping up and down as if he were about to precipitate himself
into the waves. "Don't speak to me; don't any body dare speak to me. I
am a desperate man; and if you don't look out, I'll--I'll--I've the
greatest notion in the world to jump overboard."
"There's the yawl, an' I can see them two bugglars standin' by it," said
Atkins.
He addressed himself to the governor, not deeming it safe to speak to
Tom, who showed an alarming disposition to break things. He had caught
up a handspike, and was swinging it around his head, glaring fiercely at
his companions as if he had half a mind to strike one of them; but,
thinking better of it, he turned and brought the handspike down upon the
rail with such force that the little vessel fairly trembled under the
blow. The governor stood off at a safe distance and looked at him,
hoping that his rage would soon subside, and that he would give his
attention to his duties. But Tom continued to beat the rail with the
handspike, now and then stopping to look at the yacht, which seemed to
be rapidly falling behind. "Be you gone clean crazy?" Sam ventured to
ask, at length.
"No, I haven't!" shouted Tom. "I wish I had about twenty good men; I
would board that yacht and make sure work of her. I'd cut a hole through
her bottom, and I'd stay by her and watch her until she had sunk
completely out of sight. Then I'd like to see Harry Green get her
again."
"We've got to stop here fur the yawl an' them bugglars," suggested the
chief.
"Well, get a crew ready to man the skiff," said Tom, throwing down the
handspike after hitting the rail one more blow harder than all the rest.
"You will take charge of the skiff, governor, and tow the yawl out to
us. We'll make her fast alongside, and take the outfit aboard as we go
along. Tell those robbers that if they want to sail with us, they can
get into the skiff. Be in a hurry, now, for we haven't a single instant
to lose."
When the skiff had been hauled alongside, the schooner was thrown up
into the wind, and Sam and two of his men pulled for the island.
Although they used all possible haste, a good deal of precious time was
consumed in towing out the yawl; and when she had been brought
alongside, and the Sweepstakes was ready to fill away again, the Storm
King was half way across the bay. During this time the schooner had made
considerable lee-way, having drifted past the head of the island. This
was something Tom had not calculated upon; and, so busy was he in
brooding over his disappointment, that he did not notice it, until it
was too late to prevent it. It had been his intention to run down the
north shore, where he could get the full benefit of the breeze; but he
was afraid to attempt it now, for the yacht was rapidly approaching,
and, if he rounded the head of the island again, he would, of course, be
obliged to sail directly toward her. This was something he did not like
to do, for he was already as close to the sloop and her angry crew as he
cared to be. The only course left him was to follow the south shore,
which he did; and in a few minutes he had left the yacht out of sight
behind the island.
"Let that skiff go adrift," commanded the skipper, as soon as the
schooner was fairly under-way. "We can't afford to have any dead weights
dragging after us now. Governor, turn to with the rest of the hands and
pass up the outfit. As we are in something of a hurry," he added,
turning to the robbers, "perhaps you gentlemen will lend us a hand."
The "gentlemen" declared themselves willing to do any thing; and, with
their assistance, the outfit was soon taken on board, and stowed away in
the cabin; after which the yawl was also turned adrift, and the
Sweepstakes, with nothing to retard her progress, bounded merrily on her
way.
"Hurrah for us, skipper!" cried the governor, joyfully, "we're off now.
After three months hard work, we've got fairly started for our island.
Who cares for them spooneys in the yacht? We've got a swift vessel, an'
we can show 'em a pretty pair of heels."
The chief was as gay and jubilant as Tom was vexed and disappointed.