THE TABLES TURNED.
Meanwhile, the fisher-boy lay upon the sofa in the cabin, where Friday
and Jack Spaniard had left him, listening to the noise of the storm,
and wondering how many chances there were in a thousand that he would
ever return to Newport. Again and again had he made the most desperate
but unsuccessful efforts to free himself from his bonds, and finally,
becoming wearied with his exertions, and discouraged by his failures,
he settled back on the sofa, and awaited the destruction of the vessel
with all the fortitude he could command.
Occasionally he heard the students moving about in their prison, and
now and then the door would shake and bend, as if the boys were trying
to force it from its hinges. Bob watched and listened, hoping that
they would discover some way of effecting their escape; but the door,
like every thing else about the yacht, had been made at Mr. Graves'
ship-yard, and it was "first-class." It resisted all their efforts, and
at last, the students, like Bob, became discouraged, and sat down to
talk the matter over.
Harry Green was in great trouble. At his own request he had been
placed in command of the guard of the yacht, and now, scarcely more
than three hours after he assumed charge of the vessel, she had been
taken from him. Since he had worked out the punishment that had been
inflicted upon him for taking part in Tom's runaway scheme, he had been
one of the most diligent students at the academy. He was working with
an object in view, and that was, to distance the lieutenant-colonel
at the next examination. As far as his lessons were concerned, he was
already ahead of him in every thing except navigation; and he had
resolved, that, by the end of the next quarter, he would lead his class
in that study also. But his knowledge of books was not the only thing
that would be inquired into. His conduct as an officer--as captain of
company A, and first lieutenant of the Storm King, would be severely
criticised, and especially the manner in which he executed the orders
of his superiors. In his military record, Harry was confident that
he could show a clean score; but there was every prospect that his
career as a naval lieutenant would be brought to a speedy termination.
Colonel Steele, in his capacity as a ranking naval officer, had given
him written instructions to hold the yacht at all hazards in case
an assault should be made upon her, and to bring every one of the
attacking party prisoners to the academy. Harry had failed to obey
these orders, and he was a candidate for a court-martial. The other
officers of the guard were in the same predicament, and so were the
seamen. They all had rivals at the academy, who were working hard to
remove them from their positions on board the yacht, and it was no
wonder that they looked upon the result of the battle as the greatest
calamity that could have befallen them. They had lost their vessel,
and, although there was not one among them who believed that they could
be blamed for that, they felt rather serious, when they reflected that
they would be called upon to prove this to the colonel's satisfaction.
Could they not wipe out the disgrace, and insure their acquittal before
the court-martial, by turning the tables on their enemies? The first
lieutenant thought they could, but he did not know how to do it. He
groped his way to the door--for the hold was so dark that he could
not see his hand before him--threw himself against it with all his
strength, and then called some of his crew to his assistance; but it
was all in vain. They were prisoners, and such they would probably
remain until their captors saw fit to release them.
"What in the name of sense do you suppose Tom Newcombe intends to do
with us, and with the yacht?" was a question that the first lieutenant
had asked perhaps twenty times, and which none of the crew could
answer. They knew that Tom was very angry because his father had
presented the Storm King to the principal of the academy, instead of
giving it to him, and they were also well aware that that was one
reason why he had seized the vessel. But they had never heard a word
about the Crusoe band, and, consequently, they could not imagine where
Tom was going, or why he kept company with Sam Barton and his band of
outlaws. This matter had been talked over until every boy in the crew
had expressed an opinion; and the only conclusion at which they arrived
was, that Tom had got another of his wild ideas into his head, and that
he would be certain, sooner or later, to get them and every body else
on board the yacht into serious trouble.
"I have been with Newcombe on one runaway expedition," said Harry, "and
I shall regret it as long as I live. I don't want to go with him on
another, especially if he is to command the vessel."
"Neither do I," said one of the midshipmen--another old Night-hawk.
"But how shall we get away from him? that's the question! If we could
only take him and all the members of his society to the academy as
prisoners, wouldn't it be----I'll tell you what it is, fellows," he
added, as the sloop gave a tremendous lurch, which threw all the
students into a heap in one corner of the hold, "if we don't get on
deck very soon, and take charge of this craft, she's bound to go to the
bottom."
The wild plunging of the vessel, the noise of the waves washing against
her sides, and the sound of hurrying feet on the deck overhead, sent a
thrill of terror to the heart of every boy in the hold. They knew that
their captors had succeeded in getting the yacht under way, but they
did not fully realize their danger until one of the students, who was
steadying himself by holding on to the mast, which ran up through the
hold, exclaimed:
"Fellows, Newcombe has hoisted some of the canvas, and is trying to
sail out of the harbor in the face of this gale. Just put your hands on
the mast, and see how it quivers!"
As if they were acting under orders, the crew made a rush for the after
end of the hold, and commenced another furious attack upon the door,
but with no other effect than to increase their alarm. There was no
possible chance for escape. Both doors were securely fastened, the
hatch overhead was battened down, and when the yacht was capsized or
sunk--an event which they all believed to be not far distant--nothing
on earth could save them.
"Fellows--" began the first lieutenant.
What he was about to say the boys never knew, for he was interrupted in
his speech by a shout from one of the crew, who had been crawling about
the hold on his hands and knees.
"Hurrah for me!" shouted the student. "Where's the lieutenant? I have
been lucky enough to find a handspike."
"Pass it over here!" said Harry, in an excited voice. "Stand by, now,
and the moment I burst the door open, make a rush, and don't stop until
the vessel is ours. We must take charge of the yacht before Newcombe
gets her into the bay, and we've no time to lose. Keep still, fellows!
Somebody is outside the door!"
The boys held their breath in suspense, and crouched, like so many
tigers, ready for a spring. Some one was certainly busy with the lock.
After a delay that seemed an age to the students, the key turned, the
door opened, and the next moment Tom Newcombe was knocked clear across
the cabin, by a blow from the pillow, in the hands of the tall student,
who was the first to spring into the cabin.
"That was a lucky haul, fellows!" exclaimed the first lieutenant.
"We've got the old boy himself. Secure him at once."
Harry, of course, did not know that Tom had released him and his crew
intentionally, and perhaps it would have made no difference to him
if he had. Like all the rest of the students, he looked upon Tom as
a very dangerous fellow, and he was resolved to capture him, even if
by so doing the other members of the band were allowed an opportunity
to escape. In obedience to the order, half a dozen students threw
themselves upon him, and Tom, stunned by the blow from the pillow, and
astonished at the roughness with which he was handled, did not fairly
recover the use of his tongue until he found himself securely bound
and confined in one of the state-rooms--the apartment that had been
intended for the captain of the vessel, and which he had expected to
occupy under very different circumstances.
The fisher-boy lay upon the sofa a delighted witness of all that took
place; but, although the lamp was burning brightly, and he was in
plain sight, the students were so excited, and so fully occupied in
securing possession of their weapons, and disposing of their prisoner,
that they were not aware of his presence until he aroused them by
saying--"Now, perhaps you will be kind enough to release me!"
Of course the students were kind enough to do it, and they did do it as
soon as they had satisfied themselves that he was not a member of Tom's
band. He was not required to enter into any lengthy explanation, for
the first lieutenant was in a great hurry to finish the work so well
begun; and, besides, the fact that the fisher-boy was bound hand and
foot, was sufficient evidence that he had not assisted in the capture
of the vessel, and that he had been brought there against his will.
"No time to talk, fellows," said the first lieutenant. "How many of
them are there, Jennings?"
"Only five, now that Tom is a prisoner," replied Bob, picking up the
spear that the governor had used during the fight, and making some
feeble attempts to stand on his feet.
"Only five!" repeated Harry, in astonishment. "Eighteen fellows whipped
in a fair fight by one-third of their number! Boys, I think this will
be our first and last cruise in the Storm King. That is bad evidence to
be brought up against us."
"But it wasn't a fair fight," said one of the crew. "They were armed
and we were not."
"Well, they whipped us, anyhow," said the lieutenant, "and now we must
whip them. Stand by to board with a loud cheer! Board!"
The students, yelling at the top of their lungs, sprang up the ladder,
and gained the deck without meeting any of the enemy. The members of
the Crusoe band were so fully occupied in navigating the vessel, that
they had not noticed Tom's absence from the deck, and the noise of the
storm had drowned all sounds of what had been going on in the cabin.
When the first lieutenant reached the top of the ladder, he stopped,
appalled by the scene presented to his gaze. The storm was increasing
in fury every moment, the lightning flashed almost incessantly,
rendering objects about the harbor as plainly visible as if it had
been daylight, and the wind howled as fiercely as ever. By some streak
of luck which the lieutenant could not understand, and which would
not have attended him again had he attempted the same feat, Xury had
succeeded in piloting the vessel safely through the harbor; and when
the students reached the deck, she was on the point of entering the bay.
Harry had witnessed many a tempest, both at sea and on shore, and as
he began to regard himself as quite an accomplished sailor, he was
disposed to make light of storms that were really terrific. But he had
nothing to say about this one. He had never seen such waves in Newport
Bay, neither had he ever seen a vessel so badly handled as was the
Storm King. The mainsail, close reefed, was the only canvas hoisted,
but that was altogether too much for her; besides, Xury was becoming
frightened, and managed the wheel with very unsteady hands. Sometimes
the sail would feel the full force of the gale, and the yacht would
roll down almost to her beam ends; then Xury would "luff" until the
sail was shaking in the wind, when he would fill away again. Harry took
this all in at a glance. He dared not hesitate long, for he saw the
necessity of prompt action.
"Richardson!" he shouted, turning to one of the midshipmen, "take two
men to the wheel, and put her about at once. Forward! and clear the
deck of these pirates."
"Hallo, here!" exclaimed the governor, who just then happened to glance
toward the companion-way. "Here they are, fellers! Down with the
'cademy swells!"
But the chief's battle-cry failed to produce any effect upon his
crew. The lightning showed them that the students had recovered their
weapons, and that was enough to convince them that their voyage was
at an end. Besides, they were not allowed time to make up their minds
whether to fight or surrender, for the students, led by Harry, rushed
forward in a body, and in a moment every member of the Crusoe band,
except the governor, was a prisoner. The latter caught up a hand-spike,
and stood his ground long enough to see his men overpowered, one after
the other, when he dropped his weapon and sprang upon the bowsprit,
where he was followed by half a dozen of the students.
"Surrender, Sam Barton!" exclaimed the foremost. "Your cruise is up,
now."
"Not much, I won't surrender," replied the chief, desperate to the
last. "Better not come too near me!"
The students, not in the least intimidated by this last remark, which
implied that he intended to resist all their efforts to capture him,
continued to follow the chief, who, having retreated as far as he could
toward the end of the bowsprit, suddenly arose to his feet. "Down with
the 'cademy swells!" he shouted, shaking his fist at his pursuers.
For an instant he stood with his arms spread out, balancing himself
on the bowsprit, and then, with another wild cry, he sprang into the
air and disappeared under the bow of the yacht, which, by this time,
had been put about, and was booming along up the harbor at a terrific
rate. A cry of horror arose from all who had witnessed this last act
of the chief, and while one hurried off to report the matter to the
lieutenant, the others ran aft to watch for him as he arose under the
stern. But not one of those students ever saw Sam Barton again. By
the time they reached the stern, the yacht had left the spot where he
disappeared a long way behind, and they were as powerless to assist
him as if he had been in mid-ocean. The chief, in his desperation,
preferred to trust himself to the waves, rather than in the hands of
the students; and, whatever other dangers he might have run into, he
was safe from the clutches of Mr. Grimes. But this incident, exciting
as it was, was soon forgotten. The students had other things to think
of, and the governor's reckless courage ceased to be the topic of
conversation.
The first lieutenant had his hands full. He was filled with
apprehension and trembling with anxiety for the safety of his vessel
and crew, but he did not forget his prisoners, who, being taken in
charge by a guard detailed for that purpose, were marched down into the
hold and locked up.
The sail up the harbor was attended with quite as much, if not more,
danger than the coming down had been. The first lieutenant had too
much at stake to run any risks, and as soon as the crew could be got
together--for, in the excitement attending the battle, and the escape
from the hold, all discipline had been forgotten--he ordered the sail
taken in. This was speedily accomplished, and then the yacht drifted
helplessly about on the waves. But her speed, of course, was greatly
diminished, and the danger attending a collision, if one occurred, was
diminished in the same proportion. Harry's next care was, to send one
of the midshipmen to get the spare anchor up from the hold. This was
an operation of some difficulty. The anchor was weighty, and the first
lieutenant was the only one on board who understood the management of
heavy bodies, and he could not leave the deck. Only a part of the crew
engaged in executing this order. The others were kept on deck, holding
themselves in readiness to "fend off," if there should be danger of
running into any of the vessels at the wharves. The yacht drifted
along, sometimes stern foremost, sometimes sideways, but generally
keeping near the middle of the harbor, and, by the time the midshipman
came aft, to report the anchor ready, they were within a short distance
of the place from which they started on their involuntary cruise.