GREATER MYSTERIES THAN EVER--A BOLD MOVE AND A NARROW ESCAPE.
We return now to the Talisman.
The instant the broadside of the cruiser burst with such violence, and
in such close proximity, on Manton's ears, he felt that he had run into
the very jaws of the lion; and that escape was almost impossible. The
bold heart of the pirate quailed at the thought of his impending fate,
but the fear caused by conscious guilt was momentary; his constitutional
courage returned so violently as to render him reckless.
It was too late to put about and avoid being seen; for, before the shot
was fired, the schooner had already almost run into the narrow channel
between the island and the shore. A few seconds later, she sailed
gracefully into view of the amazed Montague, who at once recognized the
pirate vessel from Gascoyne's faithful description of her, and hurriedly
gave orders to load with ball and grape, while a boat was lowered in
order to slew the ship more rapidly so as to bring her broadside to bear
on the schooner.
To say that Gascoyne beheld all this unmoved would be to give a false
impression of the man. He knew the ring of his great gun too well to
require the schooner to come in sight in order to convince him that his
vessel was near at hand. When, therefore, she appeared, and Montague
turned to him with a hasty glance of suspicion and pointed to her, he
had completely banished every trace of feeling from his countenance, and
sat on the taffrail puffing his cigar with an air of calm satisfaction.
Nodding to Montague's glance of inquiry, he said:
"Aye, that's the pirate. I told you he was a bold fellow; but I did not
think he was quite so bold as to attempt _this_!"
To do Gascoyne justice, he told the plain truth here; for, having sent a
peremptory order to his mate, by John Bumpus, not to move from his
anchorage on any account whatever, he was not a little surprised as well
as enraged at what he supposed was Manton's mutinous conduct. But, as we
have said, his feelings were confined to his breast; they found no index
in his grave face.
Montague suspected, nevertheless, that his pilot was assuming a
composure which he did not feel; for from the manner of the meeting of
the two vessels, he was persuaded that it was as little expected on the
part of the pirates as of himself. It was with a feeling of curiosity,
therefore, as to what reply he should receive, that he put the question,
"What would Mr. Gascoyne advise me to do _now_?"
"Blow the villains out of the water," was the quick answer. "I would
have done so before now, had I been you."
"Perhaps you might, but not _much_ sooner," retorted the other, pointing
to the guns which were ready loaded, while the men stood at their
stations, matches in hand, only waiting for the broadside to be brought
to bear on the little vessel, when an iron shower would be sent against
her which must, at such short range, have infallibly sent her to the
bottom.
The mate of the pirate schooner was quite alive to his danger, and had
taken the only means in his power to prevent it. Close to where his
vessel lay, a large rock rose between the shore of the large island and
the islet in the bay which has been described as separating the two
vessels from each other. Owing to the formation of the coast at this
place, a powerful stream ran between the rock and this islet at low
tide. It happened to be flowing out at that time like a mill-race.
Manton saw that the schooner was being sucked into this stream. In other
circumstances, he would have endeavored to avoid the danger; for the
channel was barely wide enough to allow even a small craft to pass
between the rocks; but now he resolved to risk it.
He knew that any attempt to put the schooner about would only hasten the
efforts of the cruiser to bring her broadside to bear on him. He also
knew that, in the course of a few seconds, he would be carried through
the stream into the shelter of the rocky point. He therefore ordered the
men to lie down on the deck; while, in a careless manner, he slewed the
big brass gun round, so as to point it at the man-of-war.
Gascoyne at once understood the intended maneuver of his mate; and, in
spite of himself, a gleam of triumph shot from his eyes. Montague
himself suspected that his prize was not altogether so sure as he had
deemed it; and he urged the men in the boat to put forth their utmost
efforts. The Talisman was almost slewed into position, when the pirate
schooner was observed to move rapidly through the water, stern foremost,
in the direction of the point. At first Montague could scarcely credit
his eyes; but when he saw the end of the main boom pass behind the
point, he became painfully alive to the fact that the whole vessel
would certainly follow in the course of a few seconds. Although the most
of his guns were still not sufficiently well pointed, he gave the order
to fire them in succession. The entire broadside burst in this manner
from the side of the Talisman, with a prolonged and mighty crash or
roar, and tore up the waters of the narrow channel.
Most of the iron storm passed close by the head of the pirate. However,
only one ball took effect; it touched the end of the bowsprit, and sent
the jib-boom into the air in splinters. Manton applied the match to the
brass gun almost at the same moment, and the heavy ringing roar of her
explosion seemed like a prolonged echo of the broadside. The gun was
well aimed; but the schooner had already passed so far behind the point
that the ball struck a projecting part of the cliff, dashed it into
atoms, and, glancing upwards, passed through the cap of the Talisman's
mizzen-mast, and brought the lower yard, with all its gear, rattling
down on the quarter-deck. When the smoke cleared away, the Avenger had
vanished from the scene.
To put the ship about, and follow the pirate schooner, was the first
impulse of Montague; but, on second thought, he felt that the risk of
getting on the rocks in the narrow channel was too great to be lightly
run. He therefore gave orders to warp the ship about, and steer round
the islet, on the other side of which he fully expected to find the
pirate. But time was lost in attempting to do this, in consequence of
the wreck of the mizzen-mast having fouled the rudder. When the Talisman
at last got under way, and rounded the outside point of the islet, no
vessel of any kind was to be seen.
Amazed beyond measure, and deeply chagrined, the unfortunate captain of
the man-of-war turned to Gascoyne, who still sat quietly on the taffrail
smoking his cigar.
"Does this pirate schooner sport wings as well as sails?" said he; "for
unless she does, and has flown over the mountains, I cannot see how she
could disappear in so short a space of time."
"I told you the pirate was a bold man; and now he has proved himself a
clever fellow. Whether he sports wings or no is best known to himself.
Perhaps he can dive. If so, we have only to watch until he comes to the
surface, and shoot him leisurely."
"Well, he is off; there is no doubt of that," returned Montague. "And
now, Mr. Gascoyne, since it is vain to chase a vessel possessed of such
mysterious qualities, you will not object, I dare say, to guide my ship
to the bay where your own little schooner lies. I have a fancy to anchor
there."
"By all means," said Gascoyne, coolly. "It will afford me much pleasure
to do as you wish, and to have you alongside of my little craft."
Montague was surprised at the perfect coolness with which the other
received his proposal. He was persuaded that there must be some
mysterious connection between the pirate schooner and the sandal-wood
trader, although his ideas were at this point somewhat undefined and
confused; and he had expected that Gascoyne would have shown some
symptoms of perplexity on being thus ordered to conduct the Talisman to
a spot where, he suspected, no schooner would be found, or, if found,
would appear under such a changed aspect as to warrant his seizing it on
suspicion. As Gascoyne, however, showed perfect willingness to obey the
order, he turned away, and left his strange pilot to conduct the ship
through the reefs, having previously given him to understand that the
touching of a rock and the termination of his (Gascoyne's) life would
certainly be simultaneous events.
Meanwhile the Avenger, alias the Foam, had steered direct for the shore,
into which she apparently ran, and disappeared like a phantom-ship. The
coast of this part of the island, where the events we are narrating
occurred, was peculiarly formed. There were several narrow inlets in the
high cliffs which were exceedingly deep, but barely wide enough to admit
of the passage of a large boat or a small vessel. Many of these inlets
or creeks, which in some respects resembled the narrow fiords of Norway,
though on a miniature scale, were so thickly fringed with trees, and the
luxuriant undergrowth peculiar to southern climes, that their existence
could not be detected from the sea. Indeed, even after the entrance to
any one of them was discovered, no one would have imagined it to extend
so far inland.
Two of those deep, narrow inlets, opening from opposite sides of the
cape which lay close to the islet above referred to, had approached so
close to each other at their upper extremities that they had at last
met, in consequence of the sea undermining and throwing down the cliff
that separated them. Thus the cape was in reality an island; and the two
united inlets formed a narrow strait, through which the Avenger passed
to her former anchorage by means of four pair of powerful sweeps or
oars. This secret passage was well known to the pirates; and it was with
a lurking feeling that it might some day prove of use to him, that
Gascoyne invariably anchored near it when he visited the island as a
sandal-wood trader.
During the transit, the carpenters of the schooner were not idle. The
red streak and flag and griffin's head were removed; the big gun was
covered with the long-boat, and the vessel which entered the one end of
the channel as the warlike Avenger issued from the other side as the
peaceful Foam; and, rowing to her former anchorage, dropped anchor. The
shattered jib-boom had been replaced by a spare one, and part of the
crew were stored away under the cargo, in an empty space of the hold
reserved for this special purpose, and for concealing arms. A few of
them were also landed, not far from the cliff over which poor Bumpus had
been thrown, with orders to remain concealed, and be ready to embark at
a moment's notice.
Soon after the schooner anchored, the boat which had been sent off in
search of the body of our unfortunate seaman returned, having failed to
discover the object for which it had been sent out.
The breeze had by this time died away almost entirely, so that three
hours elapsed before the Talisman rounded the point, stood into the bay,
and dropped anchor at a distance of about two miles from the suspected
schooner.