clenched, and the fierce eagerness for battle suddenly awakened to full
activity within him, the doctor stood waiting impatiently for the next
foe to present himself. But none came; only Manners and Nicholls now
appeared upon the scene with their rifles in their hands, and eager
questions in their eyes and on their lips for an explanation of the
sudden and tragic turn of affairs. To them in a few terse words
Henderson stated what had already taken place, adding an expression of
his apprehension that Gaunt and little Percy had fallen into the hands
of the enemy, and finally directing the two men to advance with caution
as far as possible with the view of ascertaining the whereabouts of the
missing ones, and of affording them help if help were indeed still
possible, and, when they had done all that they could, to the best of
their judgment, to return to the fort with intelligence. Having thus
dismissed his companions, the doctor tenderly raised the now insensible
Lucille in his arms, and, pressing her to his breast with a sob of
inarticulate gratitude to God for her preservation, he wended his way
back to the fort with a heavy, grief-stricken heart, wondering meanwhile
how he could best meet the anxious inquiries which he knew would be made
by poor Mrs Gaunt.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
AN ANXIOUS NIGHT AT THE FORT.
As Henderson approached the fort he saw the two ladies watching for him;
and anxious not to unduly alarm them, he cried out--referring to
Lucille--as soon as he had approached within shouting distance:
"It is all right; she is not hurt, only frightened a little. Get her
bed ready."
Upon hearing this, Mrs Gaunt, taking the notion into her head that her
husband and Percy were following at their leisure, hurried away to
prepare Lucille's bed for her, leaving Mrs Henderson to receive her
child. This afforded the doctor an opportunity which, to speak the
truth, was most welcome to him. He knew from experience the consummate
tact which women are wont to exercise in the breaking of bad news, and
he resolved forthwith to delegate to his wife the task to which he had
been looking forward with so much mental perturbation. So, as soon as
he reached his wife's side, he said hastily:
"Look here, Rose dear, you need not be alarmed. With the exception of
being frightened very nearly out of her wits, poor child, there is
nothing wrong with Lucille; she has swooned with terror, but I can soon
put her all right again. The Malays, however, have landed on the
island; and I am dreadfully afraid they have got Gaunt and poor little
Percy, but we can know nothing for certain until the return of Manners
and Nicholls, who have gone forward to reconnoitre. There is no time
now to enter into particulars--they can be told by and by; but poor Mrs
Gaunt is certain to inquire presently for her husband and child, so I
want you to go to her _now_--leave Lucille to me; take her to her own
room, and break to her as gently as possible what I have just told you,
laying stress at the same time upon the fact that we _know_ nothing
certainly as yet, and that matters may turn out much better than we
apprehend. Look! there she is. Now go to her and be as gentle with her
as you can."
Full of sympathy, Mrs Henderson at this hurried away upon her painful
errand; whilst her husband, as soon as the coast was clear, made his way
down to his own room with the unconscious Lucille.
Arrived there, he laid the child upon her bed, and then opened the
compact medicine chest which, on leaving England, he had happily taken
the precaution of adding to his personal outfit, and this done he
forthwith set about the task of restoration.
The task proved more difficult and of longer duration than he had
anticipated; and before success rewarded his efforts his wife rejoined
him, in tears.
"Well," he said nervously, and without desisting a moment from his
occupation, "how have you managed?"
"Oh, Duncan!" sobbed Mrs Henderson, "it was dreadful! Poor dear Ida is
quite prostrated with grief and terror, though she did, and is still
doing, her best to bear up under the awful agony of suspense. Fancy,
dearest, both husband and child--oh, it is horrible! Can _nothing_ be
done to save them?"
"Nothing, just now, I fear," was the gloomy response. "You see there
are but three fighting men of us now, and we do not know how many of the
enemy there are. It is quite useless to attempt the devising of plans
until the other two return with intelligence; _then_, indeed, we will
see what can be done. And it shall go hard but we will rescue them
somehow. Where did you leave Mrs Gaunt?"
"In her own room on her knees, praying for her lost ones; it is all she
can do, poor soul. Ah! the dear child is reviving at last, is she not,
dear?"
"Yes, yes," answered Henderson hurriedly. "Now reach me that glass of
medicine from the table. Thanks. Here, Lucille, my dear, drink this,
little one, it will do you good."
A faint tinge of returning colour had at length appeared in the child's
pale cheeks and lips. This had been succeeded by a-fluttering sigh or
two, and then her eyes had opened suddenly with a look of terror, which
had given place to one of joy and relief as she recognised her father
and mother bending over her. Upon which Henderson had gently raised her
and promptly administered the draught which he had prepared.
Presently the little creature spoke. "Oh, mamma," she exclaimed,
looking somewhat wildly about her, "is it morning; is it time to get up?
I have had such a dreadful dream--"
"There; never mind your dream, dear; forget all about it, and try to go
to sleep again," said Mrs Henderson soothingly; "it is not quite time
to get up yet."
"Yes; go to sleep again like a good girl," agreed Henderson; "but you
can tell us your dream first, dear, if you very much wish to do so. You
forget," he added in an undertone to his wife; "she may be able to throw
a great deal of light upon the state of affairs, and afford us
information of the last importance. What was your dream, darling?"
"Oh," began the child, "I dreamt that we--Mr Gaunt and Percy and I, you
know--had been to the beach gathering shells; and as we were coming back
in the boat a great ship suddenly came round the corner, full of ugly,
wicked men; and they fired guns at us, and one of them hit Mr Gaunt,
for I saw the blood running down his face. And then they came after us
in a boat, and were quite near us when we reached the creek; and then
Mr Gaunt told Percy and me to run home as fast as ever we could; and he
took one of the boat's oars and got out and stood on the beach, and
looked as if he was going to fight the men. So Percy took my hand, and
we ran--oh, ever so fast; and I looked round and saw Mr Gaunt fighting
all the men with the oar; and then we turned a corner, and I felt tired
and wanted to stop; but Percy wouldn't let me, and we kept on running,
and I began to cry. And just as I wanted to stop again we heard
somebody running after us, and I thought it was Mr Gaunt, but it
wasn't; it was one of the ugly men out of the ship; and he had a long
knife in his hand. So we ran faster, and then dear Percy fell down; but
I ran on, and the ugly man caught Percy, and--oh, mamma!" Here the poor
little creature's eyes filled with tears, and the frightened look
returned to them. "_Was_ it a dream, or did it really happen?"
"It really happened, dear," answered Henderson, who made a point of
never deceiving his child about anything; "it really happened; but never
mind; you are with us now, you know, and _quite_ safe, so lie down and
try to go to sleep. And do not trouble about dear Percy; we will have
him and his papa both safe back with us by to-morrow morning, please
God. What a horrible experience for the poor child--and what dreadful
news about those two!" he murmured to his wife as Lucille sank back and
closed her eyes again under the influence of the soothing draught he had
administered. "Fancy that poor little fellow Percy in the hands of
those fiends. Hark! is not that Manners' voice hailing outside? Stay
here with Lucille and hold her hand, it will soothe her, and I will go
and lower the ladder."
With that Henderson hurried away, leaving his wife to watch by the
bedside of their child, with a heart brimful of pity and sympathy for
her bereaved friend, and of unspeakable gratitude to God for the safety
of her own loved ones.
Arrived at the head of the staircase, Henderson approached the parapet,
and, leaning over, peered down into the gathering darkness.
"Is that you, Manners?" he asked, seeing a couple of figures standing
close underneath him.
"Ay, ay, sir; here we are," answered Manners for himself and his
companion. "Will you kindly lower the ladder, please, doctor?"
The ladder was lowered, and in another moment Nicholls made his
appearance above the parapet, closely followed by Manners, who
immediately hauled up the ladder after him.
"Well," questioned Henderson impatiently, seeing that neither of the men
evinced a disposition to speak; "well, what is the news?"
"The worst, sir; the very worst," answered Manners with unusual emotion.
"They've got both Mr Gaunt and little Percy; and, would you believe
it, sir? the devils have actually been ill-treating the poor little
fellow, just for the sake, seemingly, of tormenting his father."
Henderson groaned aloud in sheer bitterness of spirit at hearing this.
"It's awful, isn't it, sir?" continued Manners, grinding his teeth with
rage. "Nicholls here wanted to open fire upon them, there and then, and
board in the smoke--dash in among them in the midst of the confusion,
you know, sir, and see if we couldn't cut the two of them adrift and
bring them off with us. There's nothing would have suited me better,
for it made me fairly mad to see the brutes striking that poor little
innocent child, and he and his father lashed to the trunks of a couple
of trees; but it wouldn't do; it _wouldn't_ do, sir; there were too many
of them for us. I counted twenty-seven of them, all told, after the
second party had come ashore from the proa; we couldn't have done any
good. And, besides, there was you and the ladies to be thought of. So,
after we had watched them for some time, I thought our best plan would
be to come back here and consult with you, especially as they seemed to
be getting ready to beat up our quarters. But we're determined,
Nicholls and I, to have a slap at them some time to-night in some shape
or form; and the only question is, how it is best to be done?"
Henderson stretched out a hand to each of them, which was cordially
grasped, as he said, huskily:
"Thank you; thank you, my staunch and trusty friends, both; we _will_
have a slap at them, as you say. But we must do nothing hastily or
without careful consideration; the issues involved are too many, the
stake too great for us to risk anything by over-rashness. Let us each
think the matter over carefully. And, meanwhile, as we shall need all
our strength, you, Nicholls, go down and bring us up here something to
eat and drink, as this may be our only chance to snatch a morsel of
refreshment. And whilst he is doing that, perhaps you, Manners, will
kindly go down and bring up all the arms and ammunition you can find, so
that if the Malays come this way we may be prepared to give them a warm
reception. I will keep watch here for the present."
In another minute Henderson was alone upon the parapet, with the deep
violet star-studded sky above him, and on every hand the black outline
of the high land and the dense growth of trees and bush which hemmed in
the fort. Not a sound met his ear save the continuous _chirr_ of the
myriads of insects with which the island abounded, the distant wash and
gurgle of the river, and the mournful sighing of the night breeze
through the foliage; but the whereabouts of the Malay camp was faintly
indicated by an occasional gleam of ruddy light flashing upon the
branches and leaves of a lofty tree in the direction of the creek; and,
most gratifying sight of all, away to the eastward the sky was
brightening into silvery radiance, showing that the full moon would
shortly shed her friendly light upon the scene.
The two men soon returned from below in the performance of their several
tasks, Manners having had the forethought to load the firearms by the
light of a lantern whilst still in the armoury.
A few minutes later the moon rolled slowly into view from above the low-
lying land beyond the Malay encampment, flooding the whole scene with
her soft subdued light; and Manners then cautiously went from loophole
to loophole looking for signs of the enemy, but without detecting any
indication of their presence. Though neither of them had the slightest
appetite for food, the three men now proceeded to force a little
refreshment down their throats, knowing full well that ere long they
would have need of all their strength; and, whilst they ate, the
conversation naturally turned upon the two hapless prisoners, and the
best means for effecting their rescue. Henderson, indeed, had been able
to think of little, else since the moment when his child had recovered
sufficiently to relate her terrible experience; and whilst turning the
matter over in his mind a hopeful thought had suggested itself. What,
he asked himself, could have been the motive of the Malays in making
prisoners of those two? Was it not likely that their object was
plunder, and the extortion of a ransom? And, if so, he was resolved
that _anything_ in reason which might be demanded--anything, in short,
which should leave the party with the means of defending themselves and
providing for their ultimate safety--should be granted. Let the
wretches but be persuaded to give up their prisoners unharmed, and to
leave the island, and he would not haggle about the price to be paid.
The trio were anxiously discussing together this hopeful view of the
matter when the watchful Manners, who had stationed himself at a
loophole for the purpose of maintaining a ceaseless look-out, suddenly
raised his hand warningly, and then pointed in the direction of the
pathway to the creek. Springing to their feet, his companions at once
stationed themselves in positions which gave them a view of the spot
indicated; and, looking intently, they presently detected in the deepest
shadow of the bush two or three other shadows, which they speedily
identified as human figures, the more readily from the fact that a stray
moonbeam occasionally fell upon and glinted from their naked weapons.
The two or three were quickly joined by others, who emerged silently
from the pathway through the bush until the watchers were able to count
a dozen in all.
"Now, sir, what do you say? Shall we open fire upon them, you and I,
with Mr Gaunt's repeaters, and Nicholls with his rifle? We could bowl
over at least half of them before they could get away," eagerly
whispered Manners in Henderson's ear.
"No, no; not for the world," was the answer. "Let us watch them and see
if we can get an inkling of what their intentions may be. They at least
cannot get at _us_ here; and any precipitate action on our part may only
make matters worse for poor Gaunt. Our policy is to keep them in the
dark as long as possible as to the number of their opponents."
The Malays having gained--unperceived, they doubtless hoped--the cover
afforded by the deep shadow of a dense clump of bush, some two hundred
yards distant from the fort, were now clustered closely together
therein, apparently engaged upon a careful inspection of the curious
building before them, and probably comparing notes thereon. They
evidently seemed quite unable to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion
with respect to it; and the fact that everything was perfectly dark,
silent, and motionless about the fort--all the shutters in the exterior
walls having been carefully closed--seemed to excite misgiving rather
than confidence in their breasts, for a figure would now and then detach
itself from the rest and, on hands and knees, advance cautiously a
little way through the long grass into the open, as though to gain a
nearer view of the building, and then somewhat precipitately retire
again, as though the courage of the adventurer were not equal to the
task which he had undertaken. At length these tactics ceased, and the
party, seeming to have finally made up their minds to be at least doing
something, began, still clinging tenaciously to the deepest shadow, to
move quietly along in a direction which would eventually lead to their
discovery of the ship-yard.
"That will not do," whispered Henderson to his companions as soon as he
observed this. "They must not be allowed to reach the ship-yard, or
they will doubtless set fire to the cutter and everything else there. I
was in hopes they would make up their minds to attack the building, when
the advantage would be all on our side, enabling us to greatly reduce
their numbers without risk of loss to ourselves; but apparently they do
not like the look of the place. Now, you see that broad strip of
moonlit sward over there which they are approaching. The first man who
attempts to cross I will fire at; you, Manners, taking the second, I the
third, and so on, you and I firing alternately so that we may take the
better aim, and Nicholls reserving his fire in case of a rush. Should
such take place, we must all fire as rapidly as possible with the object
of checking it. But remember this, both of you, we must each make
absolutely certain of his man before pulling trigger. Not a single
bullet must be wasted, because in this case it will give us an immense
advantage if we can impress the enemy with a conviction of the deadly
character of our fire. Now, make ready, and recollect I fire first."
As the doctor spoke he carefully levelled his repeating rifle through a
loophole and brought the sights in line with the trunk of a young
sapling which stood full in the moonlight, and in front of which the
stealthily advancing figures would have to pass. His heart throbbed so
loudly that he could count its pulsations--one, two, three, four. The
first figure is on the verge of the moonlight; he pauses a moment, looks
anxiously at the fort, and then starts at a run to cross to the next
patch of friendly shadow. Poor wretch! he little knows how true an eye
is watching behind the sights of a rifle, waiting for him to come in
line with that sapling. Another stride will bring him in line with
it--_crack_! a flash of fire, a little puff of white smoke, and he
flings up his arms as he falls heavily forward into the grass. A second
figure has already emerged into the bright moonlight, following the
first; it pauses at the flash and the report, as if about to turn back.
Too late! A second flash, a second report, and he, too, falls forward
on his face. A third now springs out of the shadow and stoops forward
as if to drag the fallen man back into shelter; but before he can reach
him he, too, falls before Henderson's deadly rifle. That stops the
advance most effectually, the remaining figures huddling close together
where they stand. A most fatal mode of grouping themselves this, for
the doctor, whose blood is now fully up, gives the word to fire into
them as they stand; and instantly out flashes the fire of three rifles
from as many loopholes, followed by such a commotion over there among
the shadows as seems to indicate that the fire has not been in vain.
Two more shots, one each from Henderson and Manners, complete the
enemy's discomfiture, and a hasty retreat is commenced.
"Follow them up, now; fire away!" exclaims Henderson eagerly; "but take
careful aim. Now is our opportunity to teach them a wholesome lesson!"
And follow them up they did, with such deadly persistency that four only
out of the twelve succeeded in making good their retreat and regaining
the path leading to the cove.
"Splendid! admirable!" exclaimed the doctor with exultation, as he
hastened with a parting shot the disappearance of the last figure. "We
shall neither see nor hear anything more of those fellows to-night. And
now, let us once more see if we cannot hit upon some scheme for the
deliverance of those two, our valued friend Gaunt and his little son."
He was mistaken, however, in supposing that he had seen the last of the
Malays for that night; for about two hours later, whilst they were still
anxiously discussing the one question which, above all others, absorbed
their thoughts, and were seemingly just as far as ever from any
practicable solution of it, a gleam of ruddy light suddenly appeared in
the pathway leading from the creek, and a minute later two Malays
stepped boldly into the open, one of them holding aloft a lighted torch
in one hand and a palm branch in the other, whilst the second man
displayed what looked like a sheet of paper.
"A flag of truce craving a parley!" exclaimed Henderson, as he
critically examined the two men through a loophole. "Let them approach;
we will hear what they have to say--that is, if they can make themselves
intelligible."
The Malays advanced boldly enough across the open toward the fort,
evidently quite satisfied that the palm branch afforded them full and
absolute protection, and at length came to a halt beneath the walls.
"Well, what do you want?" demanded the doctor of them in English, as he
leaned over the parapet.
The one who bore the paper seemed quite to comprehend the purport of the
question, for he said something unintelligible in reply, made a motion
of writing upon the paper, and then held it aloft toward Henderson.
"Um! a letter," muttered the doctor; "possibly from Gaunt. Have you any
string, either of you?" turning to his companions.
Nicholls happened to have a small ball of spun-yarn in his pocket, and
this being produced, was unwound and the end lowered down to the letter-
bearer, who gravely attached the letter, or whatever it was, to it, made
an oriental obeisance, and promptly retired, followed by his companion.
"Now, Nicholls," said Henderson, as he hauled up and secured the
document, "you mount guard here, keep a sharp look-out, and give the
alarm the moment you note anything suspicious. Mr Manners and I are
going below to see what news this letter contains."
That the letter was not from Gaunt was evident the moment it was opened,
for it consisted of nothing more than a series of roughly but vigorously
executed drawings.
The first sketch, or that which occupied the top of the sheet, consisted
of a straight horizontal stroke with markings underneath it, which were
evidently intended to represent waves; and on the centre of the
horizontal line stood a semicircle with straight lines radiating from
it, with a bold single upright stroke to the left of it. Though roughly
executed, there was no doubt this was intended to represent either the
rising or the setting sun, probably the former, the upright stroke being
perhaps intended to indicate the first sunrise, or that of the next
morning; at all events, so Henderson interpreted it.
The second sketch rudely but unmistakably represented the fort, with the
exception that, in order to make his meaning perfectly clear, the artist
had been obliged to add a door. Out of this door several white men were
walking, with guns in their hands, which the leading figures were either
delivering up, or had already delivered up, to a body of Malays. A
second group of whites and Malays were shown to the right of the sketch,
the Malays being represented as handing over to the unarmed whites two
prisoners with ropes round their necks and their hands tied behind them.
One of the prisoners was an adult, whilst the other was much smaller;
and there could be no doubt whatever that they were intended to indicate
Gaunt and Percy.
The, third and last sketch was also a representation of the fort, but in
this case it was drawn without a door. Looking over the parapet were a
number of white men with guns in their hands, which they were pointing
at a party of Malays on the ground below, who in turn were pointing guns
at the whites; whilst to the right of this picture was drawn another
group, a most sinister one, for it represented Gaunt and Percy bound to
two trees and surrounded by a pile of--presumably--branches, to which
other Malays were in the act of applying _a blazing torch_!
Henderson and Manners studied this document most attentively for some
time, and they at length agreed that only one meaning could possibly be
intended to be conveyed by it--namely, that if the fort and all it
contained, including weapons, were surrendered by sunrise, or sunset--
but most probably the former--next day, Gaunt and Percy should be
delivered up by their captors; but if not, then the fort would be
attacked, and the two captives _burnt alive_!
"Why, this is horrible!" exclaimed Henderson, as he finally folded up
the document and carefully placed it in his pocket. "We cannot possibly
make the unconditional surrender which they demand, it would simply be
placing the entire party, Gaunt and his child included, at the mercy of
a pack of treacherous, bloodthirsty scoundrels, who would probably
slaughter us all in cold blood as soon as we had delivered up our
weapons. On the other hand, it is equally out of the question that we
should abandon those two poor souls to the frightful fate with which
they are threatened. What is to be done, Manners?"