CHAPTER IX

THE MIDNIGHT MESSAGE

Harry clutched the rail involuntarily. It seemed as if at any moment

they would strike the shore with a crash, and yet he could not but

believe that the captain knew what he was doing. He stood quietly at the

wheel, scarcely moving it after he had once taken his course, but his

eyes were fixed intently ahead.

Nearer and nearer they rushed to the shore. Now they were almost upon

it. Harry steadied himself, and cast one quick glance at the captain.

Now the bow cut the thick foliage like a knife, but there was no shock,

and the _Mariella_, with trees and vines scraping her sides and rising

almost to her funnel-top, shot into a broad lagoon that lay completely

hidden by the dense foliage at the entrance.

As they passed in, Harry looked back. The passage through which they had

entered was scarcely wider than the steamer, and formed on either side

by two points of rock. It needed a bold and skillful hand to bring them

safely through that naturally-masked channel. The foliage dropped partly

back again but there still remained a gaping hole to show where the

steamer had pushed her way through.

Again the bells in the engine-room clanged, the screw churned the water

violently; there was a roar and rattle of the anchor chains, and within

twice her own length the _Mariella_ came to a standstill and her

dangerous voyage was safely terminated.

"Washington," called the captain, leaning out of the wheelhouse; "shut

the door."

"Aye, aye, sah," responded the negro, as he emerged from the galley.

"George Wash Jenks knows his duty."

Two of the men lowered a boat and jumped in. The negro followed with a

long boat hook. They rowed back to the entrance of the inlet, and Jenks

with his hook, deftly pulled the vines and creeping plants across it

again. In five minutes none could have told that the luxurious growth

had been disturbed.

The tropical night now began to settle rapidly over the still lagoon.

The business of making the steamer snug at her anchorage, which is

usually attended by the creaking of cordage, the clanking of chains, and

the discordant shouts of sailors and commanders, was carried on almost

in silence. The orders of the captain and mate were given in tones

scarcely louder than used in ordinary conversation, but the men

responded with alacrity. Within half an hour the _Mariella_, her

throbbing engines stilled, lay silently at anchor and not a sound broke

the stillness of the night. The shore of the main coast piled up in a

black mass, without shape or color, in front of them, while the

protecting arm that shielded them from the ocean loomed high above the

steamer's funnel, showing in silhouette against the star-lighted sky in

fantastically waving lines of palm leaves.

Tired out with the exciting and unusual events of the day, the boys,

after gazing for a time at the strange, silent scene around them,

retired to their bunks, and were soon fast asleep.

Captain Dynamite lay dreamily back in a steamer chair on the quarter

deck, lazily puffing a cigarette, but his eyes were intently fixed on

the black shore. The steamer was in total darkness. Not a lamp was

lighted except a small red lantern, like a signal light, that hung over

the side facing the shore.

The captain lighted a match and looked at his watch.

"Five minutes to midnight," he murmured. "They are late. Can anything

have gone wrong? Ah, there's the signal now."

A small red light flashed out of the darkness of the shore. Three times

it showed, and then disappeared. A dark figure that had been standing

by the light on the _Mariella_ swung it three times from side to side.

Captain Dynamite rose from his chair, stretched his great body lazily

and walked to the rail. As he did so, he threw open his coat and eased

up one of the pistols in its holster. His hand remained resting on the

butt.

A small boat with two rowers, and a man in the stern, shot out from the

black shadow of the shore onto the star-lighted surface of the lagoon.

They rowed without the splash of an oar straight to the _Mariella_.

"Who goes there?" called Dynamite in a whisper, as the boat shot under

the steamer's quarter.

"_Independencia_," came the prompt reply, and in a second the dark form

amidships tossed over a rope ladder. In a moment more the man in the

stern of the small boat had scrambled over the rail of the _Mariella_

and strode rapidly aft. He sprang lightly up the steps to the

quarter-deck, and seizing the hand of Captain Dynamite, who met him at

the companionway, shook it vigorously.

"Captain Morgan, sure it's glad I am to see ye again."

"God bless you, O'Connor. Another of your dare-devil expeditions safely

ended. We didn't look for you for two nights yet."

"Fair weather and only one little brush with a small gunboat.

Altogether, quite an uneventful trip. And how goes the cause of

independence, Captain?"

"We still hold our own, O'Connor, despite the butcher's boasts. We left

them two hundred dead and wounded at our last three meetings, while our

loss was only five killed and ten wounded."

"Bravo, Morgan, we'll wear them out yet. Let them pour their troops into

Cuba by the thousand. Disease, our insidious ally and insurgent bullets

will take care of all they can send."

"Aye, but the bullets are getting scarce, O'Connor."

"Ah, but there are enough here to do for ten thousand Spaniards," cried

Dynamite, stamping excitedly on the deck, "and there will always be

enough to go around so long as O'Connor lives, and the planks of the

_Mariella_ hold together."

The woolly head and grinning countenance of George Washington Jenks

showed above the top step of the companionway.

"And what of Gomez, Morgan?"

"Gomez is now with President Betancourt at Cubitas, waiting for a report

of your expedition."

"He shall have it within forty-eight hours Are your men ready for the

landing?"

"The lagoon is guarded inland and shore. There is not a Spaniard within

twenty miles."

"Then we will begin at once. What are you doing on the quarter-deck, you

black rogue?"

The captain had just discovered Jenks as he stood respectfully at the

head of the companionway, apparently awaiting orders.

"Sut'nly, the Cap'n call?"

"No, I didn't call, blockhead. Get below."

"Ah, ain't such a mucher as a guesser, but sut'nly I guess the cap'n

stamp him foot."

"You're right, Washington. I did stamp, but I didn't want you. However,

as long as you are here bring out a chair for Captain Morgan and that

box of cigars on my cabin table."

"Well, Washington, you are back in Cuba with a whole skin again," said

Morgan, cordially extending his hand to the negro.

"Cap'n Morgan, suah," said Jenks, carefully rubbing his hand on his

trousers before accepting the captain's. "Ah'm right glad to see you

again, sah. O yes, sah, George Wash Jenks' skin am whole, sah. Cap'n

Dynamite, he see to that, sah. Nevah leave Cap'n Dynamite, sah."

"That's right, Washington, stick to the captain and he'll pull you

through, and Cuba needs a few more honest hearts like yours."

"Ah serve Cap'n Dynamite, sah. He serve Cuba."

With great dignity the negro turned away and entered the cabin.

"An honest fellow, O'Connor, and seems devoted to you."

"Yes, I think Washington would follow me to the ends of the earth; but

what are the orders, captain? We must be up and doing. I should not like

to lie here long enough for the Spaniards to discover our

landing-place."

"Ah, there I am as ignorant as you. Here are sealed instructions from

Gomez."

Captain Morgan handed a packet to O'Connor, who broke the seal eagerly.

When he had read what the message contained the hand that held it

dropped nervelessly by his side. He gasped as if for breath, and pulled

nervously at the collar of his shirt like a man choking. Morgan, who

noticed his singular actions started toward him.

"What's the matter, O'Connor?" he asked, anxiously. "Are you ill?"

For a moment the captain did not answer, and then he said, faintly:

"Wait. I must think."

Morgan, wondering, but respecting his mood, stepped back. Captain

Dynamite folded his arms and his head sank low on his chest. For fully

five minutes he sat thus, and then suddenly leaped to his feet, clenched

his hands, straightened up to his full heighth, and stamped his foot,

loudly on the deck. The negro appeared with the steamer chair. He

stopped in terror at the wild appearance of Captain Dynamite, and

believing that he was the cause of his anger, stammered and stuttered in

an effort to speak.

"Ah, sut'nly, came as fast as ah could, sah. George Wash Jenks no

loafing nigger, sah."

"Call Suarez," said Dynamite, in a low voice, ignoring the negro's

attempted apologies.

"Misser Suarez turned in, sah."

"Call Suarez," roared the captain, taking a threatening step in the

direction of Jenks.

"Yas, sah," answered Jenks, his eyes big with wonder. "Needn't be so

uppish. Ah shall sut'nly call Misser Suarez." Jenks backed away to the

companionway in an effort to keep his face to the angry skipper and

miscalculating his distance rolled backward down the stairs.

"You clumsy idiot," bellowed Dynamite, stepping to the top of the stairs

and peering down into the darkness, out of which came a whisper:

"Yas, sah. Ah shall sut'nly call Misser Suarez."

Dynamite stepped back, and without speaking to Morgan, who watched him

anxiously, paced the quarter-deck with nervous strides. Suarez appeared

in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes. The captain stopped as he saluted, and

looked from one to the other of the men. Finally he said, holding out

the message to Suarez:

"Suarez--Morgan--here are the instructions regarding the removal of the

cargo. They are simple. There is also news--bad news--but that concerns

only me. Take this paper, Suarez, and with Captain Morgan's assistance

carry out the orders to the letter. You are in command."

Then he turned to Washington, who had followed Suarez to the

quarter-deck.

"Bring me my night coat, Washington, and my rifle. Suarez, have the gig

lowered. I am going ashore."

"Alone, captain?"

"Alone."

"And may I ask the captain where at this hour of the night?"

"To Gomez."

"Take a file of my men, O'Connor. The country between here and Cubitas

is full of Spaniards."

"Thank you, Morgan. I have good, true men of my own who know the country

as well as I do myself, but they would only hamper me. I must make

speed--speed, do you hear? Suarez, why do you stand there like a wooden

Indian? Get my gig into the water."

"If you are bent upon going, O'Connor, and I know how useless it is to

try to swerve you, why not take my boat. It is manned and lying at the

ladder."

"That is better, Morgan. I will send it back to you. Come on, you lazy

rascal, with that coat."

He seized his coat and rifle, and ran down the stairway to the

companionway, and along the deck to the point where Morgan's boat lazily

floated on the black water.

"Take your orders from Captain Dynamite," called Morgan to his men as

O'Connor slid down into the boat. The negro who had followed close at

his heels peered over the side and whispered pleadingly:

"Cap'n Dynamite, sah, you'se not going without George Wash Jenks?"

"To the shore, lads, and pull for your lives," said O'Connor. The boat

shot away from the steamer's side and was soon lost in the dark shadow

of the shore.

Washington shook his head deprecatingly, and returned to the

quarter-deck, where he gravely saluted the mate.

"Your servant, sah," he said. "Cap'n Dynamite he say you in command."

"Bring a lantern, Washington, quick," said Suarez. Then turning to

Morgan, he continued:

"What do you suppose the bad news can be that has so affected the chief

and which he says concerns only him?"

"Gomez's message will tell. Quick, boy, with that lantern."

As Jenks stepped into the cabin, Harry, fully dressed, came out of his

stateroom. The unusual noise on deck and the loud commands of the

captain had awakened him.

"What's up, Wash?" he asked.

"Plenty. Cap'n Dynamite get bad news in message, and bang--he scoot for

shore."

"Captain gone ashore, to-night?"

"Suah, enough."

"What's the bad news, Wash?"

"Nobody knows yet. George Wash Jenks get cap'n's lantern and then we

find out."

He took the lantern from the hook, and with Harry behind him returned to

the deck. Morgan took the light and held it so that Suarez could read

the message.

"Ah, here it is" said the mate, after he had scanned the instructions.

He read aloud:

"'My heart is full of grief for you. Notwithstanding the heavy guard

maintained around the house the Spaniards succeeded last night in

seizing Juanita and have taken her to prison. She is charged with aiding

the rebels. Come to me at once that we may plan together to effect her

escape or rescue.'"

"Spaniards got Missee Juanita?" shouted Washington, who had listened

eagerly while Suarez read. "I guess I go to cap'n."

The negro made a flying leap for the rail and in another instant would

have dived into the sea toward the shore. Morgan was too quick, though,

and seizing him by the collar dragged him back to the deck.

"Never was such a mucher at guessing," murmured the negro.

"What do you say to putting the boy ashore and letting him join

O'Connor?" asked Morgan. "He knows the country and might be of much

assistance to that stubborn man in his dangerous journey."

"Please, Misser Suarez, sah, lemme go after Cap'n Dynamite. He and

Missee Juanita need George Wash Jenks."

The negro dropped on his knees as he pleaded with the mate.

"And we will go with you, Washington."

It was Harry who spoke, and the men turned to him in astonishment.

"You do not know the danger, my boy," said Suarez, quietly.

"We'll chance it. We owe Captain Dynamite a big debt. If there is a

chance to help him in his trouble it is our duty to do so."

"It is a question whether you would help or hinder him."

Suarez was undecided. While he bore the boys no malice he had always

chafed at their presence on the ship. No interest in them as individuals

would have caused him to oppose their wishes. His thoughts, hopes,

desires, and ambitions were all Cuba's. The fate of the three boys whose

lives meant nothing to the cause, was nothing to him. Deep down in his

heart he would be glad to rid the ship of them. But he feared the wrath

of his chief. He walked the deck in silence for a few minutes and then,

as if speaking to himself he said:

"If any one should take one of the boats and make the shore during the

night, their escape might not be discovered until daylight."

As he finished speaking, George Washington Jenks beckoned to Harry, and

together they made their way silently down to the main deck.

A Voyage with Captain Dynamite · 第 9 / 25 章