THE SURRENDER--CONCLUSION
Great was the consternation in the little fortress when it was
discovered that Drew was absent. And as the time dragged by and he did
not return, his friends knew that either he had been killed or was a
prisoner in the hands of the mutineers. And if the latter, they knew
only too well what mercy he had to expect from the mate. One murder
more or less was nothing to that scoundrel now.
Grimshaw and Captain Hamilton were abnormally grave, and Ruth's eyes
were wild with anguish and terror. She no longer had any doubt of her
feeling for Allen. She knew that she loved him with all her heart.
At the first sign of daylight, the master of the _Bertha Hamilton_ put
his little band on a war footing. The ammunition was distributed, and
he rejoiced to see how abundant it was. That he had Drew to thank for.
Ruth prepared lint and bandages for the wounded from supplies which
Allen had also brought, then she stood ready to reload the extra rifles
and small arms, or, at need, to use a revolver herself. Her eyes were
clear and dauntless, and if her father looked at her with grave
anxiety, it was also with pride.
Breakfast despatched, the men took the places assigned to them. The
captain had formed his plan of battle.
"They'll rush us after a few volleys," he asserted. "Wait till they
get within thirty feet before you fire. Then let them have it, and aim
low. If they waver, and I think they will, jump over the breastworks
when I give the word, and we'll charge in turn. If we once get them on
the run, they'll never rally and we'll hunt them down like rats until
they surrender. We're going to win, my lads!"
The answer was a cheer, and Captain Hamilton had no doubt as to the
spirit with which his little force was going into the fray.
The outposts came hurrying in with the news that the mutineers were
coming. And not long after, this was confirmed by a spatter of bullets
against the rocks.
The defenders made a spirited reply, and several volleys were
exchanged. But the mutineers were in the shelter of the wood.
Ditty knew that the pistol bullets of his men would do little damage at
long range.
There came an ominous pause.
"They're getting ready now," said Captain Hamilton quietly. "Mind what
I told you, my lads, about shooting low. And when you see me jump over
the rocks, come close on my heels. I'll be up in front."
It was a nerve-trying wait. Then, suddenly, the mutineers emerged from
the wood and rushed toward the fort, yelling as they came.
They had covered nearly half the distance when Captain Hamilton gave
the word and the rifles spoke. Some of the bullets went high and wide,
but several of the attacking force staggered and went down. Their
comrades hesitated for a second, and the master of the _Bertha
Hamilton_ seized his opportunity.
"Follow me!" he yelled. "Come on!"
He leaped over the rocky breastwork, and with a cheer the seamen
followed him.
The check of the mutineers had been only temporary. Ditty raged and
stormed and swore at them and they regained some semblance of order.
By the time the captain and his force had fairly cleared the lava
barricade and had got into the full momentum of their charge, the
mutineers had reformed. In another instant the lines had met and were
locked in deadly combat.
There was no longer any pretense of discipline. When their guns were
empty, every man singled out his antagonist and grappled with him. The
forces were now about evenly divided, and for a time the issue was
doubtful.
Then came a diversion.
Out from the wood leaped Drew, whirling a heavy club, his eyes blazing
with rage and the lust of battle. Here was the chandlery clerk,
metamorphosed indeed! He was followed by Parmalee, plucky, but for the
moment breathless from the struggle through the jungle.
"Shoot him, you bullies! Pull him down!" yelled Ditty, seeing the
charging Drew.
He aimed his own revolver at the young man and fired. Drew felt as
though his head had been seared by a red-hot iron. He staggered, but,
nevertheless, kept on, charging directly at the one-eyed mate.
They met. As Drew struck at his enemy with the club, the latter flung
his emptied revolver full in the face of the younger man. Drew ducked,
but could not avoid it. But the bodies of the two came together, and
they clenched.
Back and forth they strained, each struggling for a wrestler's hold in
order to enable him to throw the other. For half a minute or more
neither was successful.
But the mate was the better man in the rough-and-tumble fight. He
suddenly lifted Drew from the ground and flung him to the ground. But
Ditty fell too, landing heavily on his victim.
The shock almost deprived Drew of breath. The wound in his head had
confused him. His grasp on Ditty relaxed, and with a yell of triumph
the latter released himself, leaped to his feet, seizing the club as he
arose.
"Now I've got you!" he yelled, and swung the club aloft.
At that moment Captain Hamilton shot Ditty through the breast. With a
snarl, the mate, losing the club, hurled himself toward the captain and
grappled with him. They went down, the latter's head striking the
ground so that he was dazed for a moment.
The mutineer jerked the knife from his belt and raised it to strike;
but Tyke Grimshaw, who had been fighting furiously, kicked the knife
from his hand and the captain, recovering, threw his enemy from him and
arose.
Ditty did not rise. The remaining mutineers wavered when their leader
fell, then turned to flee.
"After them, my lads!" cried Captain Hamilton. "We've got 'em on the
run!"
But the battle ended abruptly.
In the excitement of the fight, none had noticed the black cloud
shooting up from the crater so close at hand. There was a stupendous
roar, and the earth shook again as though twisted between the fingers
of a Titan. The crashing of trees in the forest, and the bursting of
hot lava spewed out of the volcano, grew into a cannonade.
Prone on the ground, terrified and bewildered before this awful seismic
phenomenon, neither belligerent party thought of fighting. Not until
the uproar and quaking had subsided some minutes later, could they
reconcile themselves to the conviction that by a miracle only were they
alive.
The mutineers crept away into the forest unmolested. Gradually the
others regained self-control. Tyke nursed the lame foot which had done
such timely service in thwarting Ditty, while the captain tallied up
his losses. Two of the faithful seamen were dead, Ashley and Trent,
and several were rather badly wounded, while none had emerged from the
struggle without some injury. Five of the mutineers had been killed,
and three more were severely though not mortally wounded.
Drew had at first thought that the wound inflicted by Ditty's bullet
was slight. But suddenly a deadly weakness came over him. He seemed
to be falling into a stupor from which he tried desperately to save
himself. Ruth was bandaging his wound when she noticed his growing
faintness. She cried out in alarm.
"Allen, dear, Allen!" she begged. "Rouse up! Don't faint!"
"I--I'm going, Ruth," he answered.
"No, no;" she cried desperately. "I won't let you!"
"I'm going," he muttered, clinging to her.
"You mustn't!" she exclaimed wildly. "Don't go, Allen! Not until I
tell you----"
But the next moment Drew slipped into unconsciousness.
When he awoke to find himself between snowy sheets in his old berth
with Ruth's cool hand upon his forehead and her tender eyes looking
into his, he had many things to learn. She pieced out for him the
happenings after that stark fight on the island. She told how Parmalee
had picked up a revolver from the field and played his part in the
fight; how, after the burial of the dead and aid to the wounded, the
treasure chest had been transferred to the schooner; how the remnant of
the mutineers had evaded capture and had fled to the remote parts of
the island; and, greatest of all, how that last earthquake shock had
tipped the reef again and made a new opening in the barrier that had
hemmed in the schooner. She told him, too, that in an hour the _Bertha
Hamilton_ would be ploughing the waves of the Caribbean.
To all these things he listened with unutterable content and peace
beyond all telling. He was alive! His name was stainless! His future
was secure! And Ruth was beside him! It was heaven just to lie there,
drinking in the beauty of her eyes and breathing the fragrance of her
hair when she bent over to adjust his pillow.
"And we shall soon have bidden good-bye to Earthquake Island!" Ruth
exclaimed gaily.
"Is that what you've dubbed it?" he asked, smiling. "It couldn't be
better christened. Earthquakes seem to be its chief stock in trade."
"Except doubloons," she reminded him. "Don't be ungrateful."
Tyke came in and sat patting Drew's hand, too deeply moved at first to
trust himself to speak. The captain, too, was a visitor, confidently
attributing the salvation of the party to Drew's pluck and daring. And
Parmalee--a vastly stronger and healthier Parmalee than before he had
been compelled to "rough it"--showed himself exceedingly friendly.
"It has been a great voyage for me," he said. "I'm open to
congratulations, Drew. My health is so much improved, that I shall be
married as soon as we reach New York."
Drew's heart suddenly turned to ice. He knew he ought to say
something, but for the life of him he could not speak. He looked
unseeingly at Parmalee, his face the color of ashes.
"Her name is Edith," continued Parmalee, with the egotism of a lover.
"Beautiful name, don't you think? We've been engaged for more than a
year, but I didn't want to marry until I was stronger."
The blood flowed into Drew's face once more.
"Beautiful?" he cried. "I should say it was! And I bet she's as
beautiful as her name. Parmalee, I congratulate you. With all my
heart I congratulate you. You're a lucky dog. Shake hands."
Parmalee's eyes twinkled.
"Upon my word! you're a fellow of sudden and wonderful enthusiasms," he
exclaimed. "But I can guess why. I'm not blind. Go in and win, old
fellow."
Ruth came back just then, gay and radiant.
"Seems to me there's a lot of noise here for a sick man's room," she
remarked, looking smilingly from one to the other. "I'll have to drive
you out, Mr. Parmalee, if you get my patient too greatly excited," she
went on, shaking her finger at him with mock severity.
"I imagine I haven't done him any harm," laughed Parmalee slyly.
"Harm!" cried Drew. "You've given me a new lease on life. I'll get
well now in no time. I've just got to get well!"
"I was telling him about Edith," explained Parmalee.
"Edith!" exclaimed Ruth. "Isn't she just the dearest girl? So you've
taken Allen into the secret too? Go and get her picture and let him
see what a darling she is."
Parmalee, nothing loth, rose and left the room.
"You'll simply fall in love with her when you see her picture,"
prophesied Ruth, as she adjusted the pillow.
"No, I won't," declared Drew with emphasis.
"She's one of the dearest friends I have," Ruth continued, teasingly
keeping her hand just out of Allen's reach. "Of course, I knew all
about their engagement, and Mr. Parmalee's talked to me a lot about her
during this voyage. The poor fellow was so lonely without her that I
suppose he had to have some one to confide in."
A great light broke upon Drew's mind.
"So that's what you two used to talk about when I was so----" he
hesitated, seeking for a word.
"So what?" she asked demurely, with a glint of the old mischief in her
eyes.
"Oh, you know," he answered, hardly knowing how to proceed. He was
doing his best to catch her eye but could not.
He raised up and caught her by the forearm, but he was too weak to hold
her and she drew herself gently away.
"I told Mr. Parmalee that he must not excite you, and now I'm acting
just as badly," she said. "You must rest or you'll never get well."
"Oh, I'm bound to get well now!" he declared. At that moment Tyke
Grimshaw's face appeared at the doorway.
"How are you making it, Allen?" he questioned.
"First rate," was the answer. The young man was rather put out over
the interruption, yet he could not help but remember what Grimshaw had
done for him and he gave the old man a warm look of gratitude.
"We're going to have some rough sailing for a little while," announced
Grimshaw. "We're going to sail through that there gap in the reef--if
it can be done."
From a distance they could hear the voice of Mr. Rogers giving orders.
And the stamp of the seamen's feet announced that the _Bertha Hamilton_
was getting under way. Short-handed as she was, never did sailors
swing into the ancient chantey in better tune and with more
cheerfulness.
"Oh, haul the bowline, Katy is my darling,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!
"Oh, haul the bowline, London girls are towing,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!
"Oh, haul the bowline, the packet is a-rolling,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!"
With anchor apeak, topsails jerked aloft and flattened, the schooner
took the wind. Although the earthquake had subsided, the waters both
inside the reef and outside were much troubled. Where the two jaws of
the rocky barrier still remained, the waves pounded and foamed
furiously.
Would they be able to get out safely? That was the question in the
mind of every man who trod the deck of the schooner. Soundings had
been made, and they had learned that the lane to safety was both narrow
and winding.
"If we hit, it will be all up with us," said one of the tars to his
mates.
"We got ter take a chance," was the answer. "Keelhaul me, if I want to
stay at this island any longer!"
Closer and closer to the jaws of the reef sped the _Bertha Hamilton_.
Then up and down like a cork danced the schooner. For one brief
instant as she plunged through the waves and the foam, scattering the
flying spray in all directions, it looked as if nature might force her
upon the rocks, there to be battered into a shapeless hulk. But then,
as if by a miracle, she righted herself, answered her helm, and shot
through the miraculously opened lane into the blue waters of the ocean
beyond.
They were homeward bound.
A week later as the schooner was running up the Florida coast, Drew,
who had gained strength magically after his enlightening interview with
Parmalee, was standing with Ruth near the rail. Dusk was coming on,
and a crescent moon was already showing its horns in the sky, still
touched by the sun's aftermath.
In the hush of the twilight they had fallen silent. Ruth's hand was
resting on the rail. Allen reached over gently and took it in his own.
It was quivering, but she did not withdraw it.
"Ruth, look at me," he said, somewhat huskily. She lifted her eyes to
his, but dropped them instantly.
"Ruth," he continued, "when I was hurt and was losing consciousness on
the island, do you remember what you said to me?" She was silent.
"Tell me, Ruth," he urged. "Do you?"
"How can I?" she said evasively. "I--I said so many things. I was so
excited----"
"I remember," he said softly. "I will never forget. You said: 'Don't
go, Allen, not until I tell you----' What was it you wished to tell
me, Ruth?"
"Don't make me say it, Allen," she murmured, her gaze downcast.
"Was it this?" he asked; and now his voice was shaking. "Was it: Don't
go, Allen, not until I tell you that I love you? Was that it, Ruth?"
She looked at him then, and her eyes were wonderful.
With a stifled cry he opened his arms, and she crept into them in shy
and sweet surrender.
His lips met hers.
He had gained the Doubloons--and the Girl.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Doubloons--and the Girl, by John Maxwell Forbes