A Dash for Freedom
The voice of Phil Branscombe quickly reassured the startled Burgoyne.
"It's all right, old man," exclaimed Phil in a low voice.
"Everything's O.K. How are things?"
"Ravenous, the pair of us," declared Alwyn.
"I thought so," rejoined the Fourth Officer, "and so as a reward for
a good little boy I've brought both of you some grub. Save you
drawing on the tinned stuff," he added.
"And Young Bill?"
"Young Bill is there," replied Branscombe, indicating the cave.
"She's as plucky as they make 'em. The Old Man got a move on at the
finish. Do you want to see him? If so, he's on the top of the cliff."
Burgoyne shook his head. He couldn't speak just then because he was
munching bread and bully beef.
"No," he replied at length. After his strenuous exertions and with
the prospect of more to come before very long, he did not feel equal
to the task of ascending and descending the cliff. "No, he gave me
final instructions. I don't think there's anything else. Hello! Why,
that's Mostyn! Thought you were still on the sick list, old man. What
are you doing here?"
"Coming along with you," replied the Wireless Officer. "Old Man's
orders."
"Dash it all!" exclaimed Burgoyne, somewhat taken aback at the
prospect of being saddled with a man who not so long since had been
lying on his back with a score or more of wounds. "What do you know
about handling a boat?"
"I wasn't _always_ a wireless bloke," replied Mostyn.
"I've been used to a sailing boat ever since I was a kid. Also I've
brought my share of the grub and a bit over."
Burgoyne capitulated without further protest. Mostyn's declaration
that he knew how to sail a small boat more than wiped out the
objection.
"All right," he said; then addressing Branscombe and Twill--the third
member of the shore party--he continued: "It's no use hanging on to
the slack any longer. We've found a water-tank and it wants filling.
Mostyn, you might put all the provisions and spare gear on board.
Yes, the canvas tanks. They may come in handy."
With four men to handle the tank the task of conveying it filled with
water to the boat was a fairly simple one. Under Burgoyne's direction
it was stowed between two of the thwarts and immediately for'ard of
the centre-board case.
"That's everything, I think," remarked Alwyn. "Now the sooner we're
off the better. I want to get at least thirty miles from the island
before dawn. Now, Phil, if you will kindly bring Miss Vivian--I mean
Young Bill--we'll put off."
Branscombe carried out instructions. Hilda Vivian wearing an old
pilot coat (a gift from Captain Davis) over her borrowed clothes,
which during her stay on the island consisted of a duck jumper and
trousers and a sailor's straw hat, came up to greet Alwyn.
"I'm ready, Mr. Burgoyne," she said; then with a suspicion of a smile
she added, "and may I keep my face clean now, please?"
She shook hands and said good-bye to Branscombe and Twill, and was
assisted by Alwyn into the boat.
Slipping into the stern sheets Burgoyne gave the word to push off,
and the voyage began.
Hilda Vivian was told to sit down upon a pile of canvas in front of
the water-tank, where she would be least in the way when the time
came to step the mast and hoist sail. Mostyn was pulling bow oar
and Minalto stroke. Burgoyne steered, the while keeping an anxious
eye upon the cliffs fronting the still hidden Observation Hill.
During the last hour the clouds had dispersed and the stars shone
brilliantly, reflecting long shafts of shimmering light upon the
gently-undulating water.
Alwyn expressed no appreciation of the change, although rather
philosophically he remarked that it was a jolly good job the stars
weren't out when they were rowing round the island. Now, although not
desirable, the starlight did not count to such an extent. If the boat
were sighted it would be an awkward circumstance, but before the
pirates could stand in pursuit the life-boat would establish a useful
lead and be lost in the darkness.
"You know how that foremast steps, Mostyn?" he inquired in a low
voice.
"Ay, ay," was the reply. "I've been watching it, and I've overrun the
gear."
"Good enough," rejoined the Third Officer, considerably impressed by
the initiative of the latest addition to the crew. "We may have to
hoist sail in a hurry before very long."
"Isn't the surf making a roar to-night?" remarked Hilda from her
"quarters" for'ard of the water-tank.
"Yes," replied Alwyn. "Good thing; it prevents anyone ashore hearing
the sound of oars."
He purposely omitted to add that the exceptionally noisy roar of the
surf was occasioned by a heavy ground swell, that, taken in
conjunction with the torrential downpour unaccompanied by wind,
betokened bad weather at no distant date. None of the officers or men
of the captured merchant ships possessed an aneroid, so for
prognosticating the weather they had to rely upon Nature's
signals--and the unwonted thunder of the surf was one of them.
"Now, steady all," cautioned Burgoyne, as the lifeboat drew away from
the shelter of the cliffs. "Clean strokes and no fancy feathering."
Nearer and nearer drew the isolated rock that marked the limits of
visibility from the Observation Station. Carefully avoiding the shoal
that extended some distance seaward, Burgoyne held on his course
until the rock bore broad on his port beam. Another five minutes and
the risk of detection would be past.
Slowly starboarding his helm Alwyn brought the boat round until she
was eight points off her former course. By so doing, although the
action was the only practicable one, he exposed the whole of the
life-boat's broadside to the shore instead of being "end on" as
previously; but at that increased distance from the island the boat
would appear little larger than a walnut-shell.
"We've done it!" he announced gleefully. "Another twenty strokes and
we can hoist sail."
The next instant a flash of flame leapt from the pirates' look-out
station, and a bullet whizzed shrilly above the heads of the
fugitives, ricochetting fifty yards beyond the boat.
"Give way for all you're worth!" yelled Burgoyne. "Keep well down,
Miss Vivian, in case they get one in."
Two more flashes followed in quick succession, but where the bullets
struck remained a matter for conjecture. Then another, throwing up a
feather of spray twenty yards short, ricochetted and sent splinters
flying from the life-boat's gunwale.
"Another ten strokes!" shouted Alwyn. "Put every ounce into it."
The stuttering rattle of a machine-gun from the summit of the
Observation Hill warned Burgoyne that Ramon Porfirio's ruffians had
not had their last say in the matter. The pirates evidently knew how
to handle the weapon to the best advantage, for they were training it
about five degrees in a vertical plane, so that the hail of bullets
struck the water short and beyond the boat and almost every inch of
the distance between. They had only to traverse the machine-gun
slightly to the right literally to smother the life-boat with lead.
"Way 'nough!" ordered Burgoyne. "Take cover!"
Waiting until Mostyn and Minalto had thrown themselves on to the
bottom-boards, Alwyn relinquished the tiller and crouched on the
stern gratings. He knew that by the combined action of the wind and
tide, added to the way of the boat, they would drift fairly rapidly
through the danger zone.
The fusillade ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Alwyn raised his
head above the gunwale. The boat was still in the line of fire, but
almost on the point of being masked by the detached rock.
"They've got a jam!" he announced. "It'll take another five minutes
to clear it, and then they'll be much too late. Up with the masts!"
Considering it was the first time they had stepped the masts in that
particular boat the task was accomplished fairly smartly.
"Up foresail," ordered the Third Officer.
Jasper Minalto sprang forward to assist Mostyn to hoist the somewhat
awkward dipping lug. When the canvas was sheeted home the boat seemed
to leap forward under the quartering breeze.
"That'll do for the present," said Alwyn. "She'll steer better like
that until we're clear of the reef. Come aft; we want her trimmed by
the stern going through--no, not you, Miss Vivian. You'll do nicely
where you are. Are you quite comfortable?"
"Quite, thank you," was the cheerful reply, given in a tone which
implied that, having been under fire twice within the last month, the
discomfort of sitting upon a pile of canvas on the bottom-boards
counted for naught.
"Right-o," continued Alwyn. "Directly we gain the open sea we'll rig
you up some sort of tent."
"But I'm not at all tired," protested Hilda.
"You will be before morning," rejoined the Third Officer. "We've a
very long way to go, you know, and there are no rugs, hot-water
bottles, or Thermos flasks aboard this packet."
With that observation Burgoyne glanced ahead under the foot of the
bellying sail. He could now discern the gap in the reef, bearing
roughly a couple of points on the starboard bow.
"Give her about a foot of plate," he ordered, "and a couple of inches
home with the sheet."
Mostyn promptly lowered the centre-board to the required distance,
while Minalto took a pull on the fore-sheet. The life-boat no longer
drifted to leeward, but on the contrary showed a decided tendency to
"eat her way" to wind'ard. All the same Burgoyne anticipated a bit of
a struggle in taking the boat through the narrow gap in the reef.
There was a fairly heavy "tumble" on the comparatively shallow bar,
with seas breaking on each side of it. An error of judgment might
easily result in the boat being dashed upon the coral ledges on
either hand.
[Illustration: A DASH FOR FREEDOM]
"Stand by with an oar," ordered Burgoyne. "In case we have to steer
with it. I doubt whether the rudder will have much grip when she's in
the thick of it."
The Third Officer's whole attention was fixed upon the passage
through the reef. What was happening ashore did not trouble him in
the least. He knew that long before the pirates could rush a
machine-gun round to the summit of the south cliffs the life-boat
would be well away from land--provided she wasn't swamped or battered
against the dangerous ledges.
Meanwhile Jasper Minalto had lashed a fourteen-foot oar to the
stern-post, allowing sufficient play for the blade to be moved to the
right extent in a horizontal plane. Should the rudder fail to grip as
the boat climbed the steep sides of the waves the oar would serve to
keep her from broaching-to, and from being almost inevitably swamped.
Putting the helm up until the boat was running almost free Burgoyne
steered for the smoothest patch in that almost regular line of
breakers, for there was about twenty yards where the heavy swell did
not break, although it reared itself menacingly across the whole
extent of the narrow entrance.
The noise of the surf was now deafening, as the ground swell, rolling
in against the wind, threshed irresistibly upon the low-lying reef.
Already the steady movement of the boat through the tranquil waters
of the lagoon was giving place to a jerky motion, as the first of the
spent rollers began to make themselves felt.
The little craft was travelling fast. Although many of the
disconcerting conditions were hidden by the darkness, the milk-white
foam showed up conspicuously through the night, while to the roar of
the surf was added the whine of the ever-increasing wind.
Now they were in the thick of it. Like a racehorse the boat charged
the first of the steep rollers, and lifted gallantly to the curling
wall of water. Throwing showers of spray far and wide from her sharp
stem, she slid gracefully down the other side, although it took every
ounce of strength on the part of Burgoyne and Minalto to prevent her
from broaching-to.
She took the next wave badly, shoving her nose into the crest and
shipping it green over the bows; then staggering she managed to
overrun the third breaker and gained the comparatively safe water
beyond.
"That's all serene," shouted Burgoyne. "Get the water out of her,
Mostyn."
He half expected a protest from Miss Vivian, but the girl had not
stirred, although the floor-boards were six inches deep in water. She
had, however, taken the precaution of wrapping a piece of canvas
round her--Burgoyne had meant to caution her, but in the quick flight
of time during the approach to the reef he had omitted to do so--and
had come off comparatively dry.
"She's carrying all she can, I think," said Alwyn, raising his voice
to reach Mostyn and Minalto, both of whom were busily engaged in
baling out.
"I'm carrying nothing, Mr. Burgoyne!" exclaimed Hilda, rather
astonished at words that apparently related to her. "Is there
anything I can do?"
"No, thanks," replied Burgoyne. "'She' applies to the boat. I mean
she has as much sail as we can set without risking a capsize. It's
all right as things go; but we may have to reef."
"I reckon she's doing eight knots," remarked Mostyn, who, having
completed his task of baling out, had come aft.
"A good eight," agreed Burgoyne. "Will you take her now? Minalto and
I have had a pretty tough time."
"Right-o," replied Mostyn, glad of the opportunity of "feeling the
kick of the helm" again. "What's the course?"
"Sou' by east," said Alwyn, handing the Wireless Officer the pocket
compass. "Don't watch the needle; steer by a star and check your
course occasionally. You'll find it much simpler than straining your
eyes in the starlight. Call me in about a couple of hours--earlier if
you want me."
Giving a glance astern Burgoyne saw that the line of foam was almost
invisible, the island entirely so. If the breeze held--he was not
anxious for it to increase in force--the secret base would be forty
or fifty miles astern by daybreak.
"Now, Miss Vivian," he said cheerily. "We're going to fix you up
before Jasper and I turn in. Are you hungry? There's some ship's
biscuits going. That's our staple fare for a bit, I'm afraid. You're
dry, I hope? Externally, I mean. Good! Now we'll rig you up a tent."
Lashing the loom of one of the oars to the mast at a height of six
inches above the mast-clamp and resting the blade in a roughly-made
boom-crutch, Burgoyne and Minalto deftly stretched a sheet of canvas
over the oar, securing the ends to the thwarts.
"There you are," said Alwyn. "As we say in the Merchant Service
you'll be as snug as a--an insect in a rug. We can't allow you much
head-room, in case the foot of the sail flies over. Now Jasper and I
are turning in. If you want me just shout and I'll be up in a brace
of shakes."