But Jarette was up again directly.
"Pull, you beasts!" he cried. "You jerked me off my feet. You, there,"
he roared to the men in the second boat, "round to the starboard side
and board there. No--"
He leaned over the side and said something behind his hand to the men in
the other boat, which we could not hear, but we did hear him say--"We
must have her. It's too far to row."
Those last words enlightened us, telling as they did that the boats had
made very little progress, but had drifted with the current just as the
ship had, and they could never have been very far away. They must too
have supposed the vessel had sunk till they saw the fire renewed, when
feeling that they had been premature in forsaking her, they came back,
and were no doubt a good deal taken aback by finding us there ready to
defy them.
"Now!" shouted Jarette. "Ready? Off!"
The boats came on in spite of two or three shots fired from the deck,
and then, with Jarette rapidly returning our fire, they were soon close
up and sheltered to a great extent.
Jarette's boat came right alongside at once in the most plucky manner,
urged on as the men were by their leader, who seemed utterly devoid of
fear. But the other boat rowed right round by the stern, and its
occupants were damped on finding that unless they could mount by the
fore or mizzen-chains, there was apparently no means of reaching the
deck. They ceased rowing in each of these places, but there were a
couple of defenders ready at each halt, and they made no further
attempt, but lay on their oars in a half-hearted way, as if waiting for
an opportunity to occur.
But meanwhile the fight had begun by the main-chains on the port side,
where, with Jarette to cover them with his revolver, the men made a
desperate effort to gain the deck, but only to be beaten back each time
they showed their heads above the bulwarks, and after five minutes they
sat down sullenly and refused to stir.
"You cowards!" snarled Jarette, savagely. "Do you want to stop afloat
in open boats and starve? Now then, once more. Up with you!"
The men rose at his words, but Mr Brymer appeared now above them.
"Sheer off," he roared, "or we'll sink the boat."
Two reports followed this speech, and, to my horror, I saw Mr Brymer
fall back heavily on the deck to lie motionless.
"That's winning, boys," shouted Jarette, triumphantly. "Now then, all
of you follow."
He made a spring at the boat-hook they had fastened to the chains, and
scrambled up, to step on one side crouching down, revolver in hand,
sheltering himself, but watchfully ready to fire at either of us who
might show, and waiting while his men climbed to him.
While they were climbing out of the boat to his side, Mr Preddle
stepped forward gun in hand, to pass it over the bulwark, and hold the
men in check; but the barrels were seized, pressed on one side, and a
man reached up and struck the naturalist over the head, so that he too
went down heavily.
"Here, hi! Mr Dale, you're in command now," shouted Bob Hampton.
"Barney, doctor, Neb, come and help here."
We all made a rush to the side to help Bob, and our presence was needed,
for man after man had now reached the chains, where they waited for
Jarette's orders to make a rush.
"Here, let me come," cried Dumlow, limping up with his capstan-bar.
"Give me room, and I'll clear the lot down."
He swung up his bar to reach over and deliver a sweeping blow, but he
was over Jarette, who started up below the bar, and fired right in the
big sailor's face, when he too went down, but not hit. The shock and
the whizz of a bullet close to his ear had sufficed to stagger him, so
that he tripped over Mr Preddle's prostrate body, and gave his head a
sharp blow on the back.
To all appearances, three of our side were now hors de combat, and I
felt that all was over; and to confirm my thought, there was a shout
forward in the bows.
I uttered a despairing groan, for it was all plain enough. The second
boat had made for the stay beneath the bows, just as Dumlow had been
called away with his capstan-bar, and as I looked forward, there, to my
horror, dimly-seen through and beneath the ascending steam, were four
men who had climbed on board.
"We're licked, Mr Dale, sir; but hit, shoot, do anything as they come
over the side. Do, dear lad, shoot Frenchy, whatever you do. Now then,
let 'em have it, for Old England's sake and sweet home! Here they
come!"
Jarette and four men rose up now suddenly in the chains, climbed on to
the bulwark, and were about to leap down, and with a desperate feeling
of horror, I raised my gun to fire. But there was a rush and a cheer as
the men from forward rushed down to us, and I was roughly jostled, my
aim diverted; but the trigger was being pulled, and the piece went off
loudly.
The next moment blows were being given and taken. Mr Frewen was
fighting furiously, and well seconded by Bob and Barney. Jarette and
his men were checked, two going down, and to my astonishment they fell
from blows given by the four men who had dashed forward.
It was all one horrid confusion, for now one of these men turned on me,
and wrested the gun from my grasp, though I tugged at it hard. Then it
was pointed and fired at Jarette--not at me--missing him though, but
making him lose his foot-hold, and fall with a heavy splash into the
sea.
"Hurray!" yelled Bob.
"Give it to 'em," cried Barney; and I saw Mr Frewen strike one with a
revolver in his hand, but using his fist as if he were boxing, and
another man went backwards into the boat, while a blow or two from Neb
Dumlow's capstan-bar, which Barney had picked up, sufficed to clear the
chains.
I looked over the side for a moment, and saw a man holding out an oar to
Jarette, who was swimming; but there was a rush of feet again, and the
men who had come over the bows were running back just in time to drive
back three more, tumbling them over into the sea, to regain their boat
the best way they could.
Then these four, headed by the man who had led them, began to cheer, and
came running back toward us, the man who had snatched my gun, and whom I
saw now to be the cook, shouting louder than all the rest put together.
"What, are you on our side, then, old Plum Duff?" cried Dumlow, who was
now sitting up.
"Seems like it, Neb," cried the cook. "Here, Mr Dale, sir, load
quickly and fire, or they'll come on again."
He handed me the gun, and I rapidly opened the breech and slipped in the
cartridges, just as firing began from aft, and I saw that Mr Frewen was
standing against the companion-way aiming at the boat containing
Jarette, which had sheered off after picking up their leader and another
man, while now the second boat hove in sight from under the bows, in
time for Mr Frewen to send a stinging charge of shot at her crew in
turn.
He kept up his practice, while in both boats the men pulled with all
their might to get out of range.
But our troubles did not seem over, for hardly had we grasped the fact
that the cook and three of the men had snatched at the opportunity to
escape from Jarette's rule, and join us in the defence of the ship, than
I saw that which made me shout--
"Fire!--fire!" for the great cloud of steam always rising was swept
suddenly towards the starboard side, and the vessel slowly careened over
in the same direction.
"Burnt through, and sinking," I groaned to myself, and then I felt
stunned, for Bob yelled out--
"Run to the wheel, Barney, lad. Keep her before the wind."
The sailor bounded to the ladder, and up on the poop-deck, to spin round
the spokes of the wheel; and the next minute, almost before I could
grasp what had happened, the sails, which had hung for days motionless,
had filled, and we were running free, leaving the two boats and their
occupants far behind.
"Thank God!" cried a voice behind me, and I turned to see that it was
Mr Frewen, who now ran to the entrance of the saloon, where I saw him
grasping Miss Denning's and her brother's hands, and I knew he was
saying "Saved!"
Directly after he was back with us, who were carefully lifting Mr
Brymer, while Mr Preddle lay so motionless that I was afraid he was
dead.
Mr Frewen dropped on one knee, and began to examine the mate, while I
watched him with intense eagerness, waiting to hear his words.
"It must have been a bad cartridge, or the pistol improperly loaded. It
did not pierce the cloth of his cap, and even the skin of the scalp is
not broken."
"Then it will not be fatal?" I said.
"Fatal?--no! There may be a little concussion of the brain. You had
better carry him into his cabin, my lads, out of the sun."
The cook and one of the men who had returned to their allegiance lifted
the mate carefully, and bore him toward the saloon, while Mr Frewen now
directed his attention to the naturalist.
"I'm not in fit trim for acting as surgeon, Dale," he said. "I'm
bubbling over with excitement; my nerves are all on the strain with the
struggle I have gone through. But we've won, my lad, thanks to those
fellows who came over on our side. Now, Preddle, my good friend, how is
it with you? Hah! Only been stunned. A nasty crack on the head
though."
He parted the hair to show me how the head had puffed up into a great
lump; but I had hardly bent forward to examine it, as the poor fellow
lay sheltered from the morning sun by the shadow cast by one of the
sails, when he opened his eyes, looked vacantly about him, and then
fixed them on me, and recognising me, a look of intelligence brightened
in his gaze, and he said quietly--
"My fish all right, Dale?"
"I--I haven't been to look at them this morning," I stammered, hardly
able to keep back a laugh.
"I forgot. I went myself," he said. "Of course. But I couldn't find
the bellows. You haven't taken them, have you?"
"No," I said gently, thinking that he was wandering in his mind.
"How tiresome! That water wants aerating badly."
"Bellers, sir?" growled Dumlow, who was looking on; "I took 'em to make
the kittle bile, and didn't have no time to put 'em back 'cause of the
boats coming."
"Ah, the boats," cried Mr Preddle, excitedly. "Jarette knocked me
down."
"And he got knocked down hisself, sir. Reg'lar one for his nob," said
Dumlow.
"Then we won, Dale?"
"Oh yes, we've won," I cried, "and the boats are a couple of miles
away."
"Let me examine your head again," said Mr Frewen.
"What, for that!" cried the naturalist. "Oh, it's nothing--makes me
feel a little giddy and headachy, that's all. But I think I'll go and
sit out of the sun for a bit. Why, we're sailing again."
"Yes," I cried; "there's a beautiful breeze on, and we've left the
beaten enemy behind, and--"
_Flip_-_flip_-_flap_-_flap_-_flop_!
The wind had ceased as suddenly as it had come on.
"Well, sir," said Bob Hampton, a short time later, "I never 'spected to
see you get to be skipper dooring this voyage."
"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Bob," I cried. "Look--they're coming on again
as fast as they can row."
The old sailor shaded his eyes and looked aft at the two boats, which
the men were tugging along with all their might, taking advantage of our
being becalmed to try and overtake us and renew their attempt.
"Yes, there they are, bless 'em!" cried Bob. "Well, sir, as skipper o'
this here ship, with all the 'sponsibility depending on you, o' course
you know what to do."
"No, I don't, Bob," I cried. "How can a boy like I am know how to
manage a full-rigged ship?"
"Tchah! You've been to sea times enough, and a ship's on'y a yacht
growed up. Besides, there's no navigating wanted now as there's no
wind."
"But the boats!" I cried. "Look at the boats."
"Oh, I see 'em, my lad; well, that means fighting, and I never knowed a
boy yet as didn't know how to fight."
"We must try to beat them off, Bob," I said, ignoring his remark.
"Nay, not try--do it, sir; and you, being skipper, of course 'll give
'em a startler to show 'em what's waiting for 'em, if they try to board
again."
"What do you mean, Bob?" I cried.
"Well, come, I like that, sir," he said, with a laugh; "there have you
got the little signal-gun loaded and primed, and the poker all red-hot
and waiting, and i'stead o' having it run to the gangway, set open ready
to give 'em their startler, you says you don't know what to do?"
"Would you do that, Bob?" I said anxiously.
"No; but you would, sir, being skipper, and wanting to save the ship,
what's left o' the cargo, and all aboard."
"But it might sink them."
"And jolly well serve 'em right--a set of piratical sharks. Ahoy,
Barney!--you aren't to stop at that there wheel now; the skipper wants
you to lend a hand with the gun."
Barney ran up to us, and the gun was dragged to the open gangway, ready
for the mutineers, as they still rowed on.
"Neb, old lad," cried Bob, "give a hye to the red-hot poker, and when I
cries `Sarvice!' out you runs with it, and hands it to me."
"Ay, ay," growled Dumlow, in his deepest bass.
"It's all right, Mr Dale, sir," whispered Bob. "You can't hit 'em with
that thing if you try ever so; but it'll splash up the water, and scare
the lot on 'em so that old Frenchy 'll have no end of a job to get 'em
to come on."
I felt better at that, and waited for the attack. Mr Frewen was back
with us, and Mr Preddle too. Mr Denning was also in his old place
with his gun; and as the men, including the four who had joined us, were
armed with the weapons they had brought from the boat, they made a
respectable show.
"But do you think we can trust those men?" I whispered to Bob.
"Trust 'em, my lad?" he replied, with a chuckle. "You jest may. They
knows it would be all over with 'em if once Frenchy got 'em under his
thumb again. Don't you be scared about them; they'll fight like
gamecocks."
"If we could only get the wind again," said Mr Frewen, who looked
anxious.
"Is there any chance of it, Bob?" I asked.
"Can't say, sir. Maybe we shall get a breeze; maybe we shan't. But
never mind; we'll raise a storm for them in the boats, in precious few
minutes too. She's charged all right, arn't she, sir?"
"Oh yes," said Mr Preddle. "I rammed the cartridge well home, and
primed the touch-hole with powder."
"Then I should not wait long," said Mr Frewen, anxiously. "It will
perhaps make the scoundrels keep off."
"'Zactly, sir. Mr Dale here's skipper now, and he'll give the order
directly."
"No, no," I said; "Mr Frewen, you take the lead."
"I am only the doctor," he replied, with a smile, which made me feel
that he was laughing at me. But the boats were coming on so fast that
something had to be done, and in my excitement I cried--
"Now, Bob. Time!"
"Ay, ay, sir," he shouted, going down on one knee to point the little
gun. "Sarvice!"
There was a growl from forward, and Neb Dumlow came limping from the
galley, along the narrow piece of deck, by where the steam still rose,
and flourishing a red-hot poker, hurried to our side.
"Cap'en o' the gun says--Stand well from behind; keep alongside, 'cause
she kicks. One moment. I can't get no better aim. Now, sir, ready!"
"Fire!" I cried; and I felt in agony, but had faith in Bob Hampton's
words.
Down went the hot poker. There was a flash, a fizz, and a puff of smoke
from the touch-hole, and that was all. No, not all, for a puff of wind
followed that of smoke, and the ship began to glide onward again, while
the men gave a cheer, and Barney ran to the wheel.
"Saved once more," cried Mr Frewen.
"Yes, sir, and them too. But beg pardon, sir," growled Bob Hampton; "I
mean you, sir,--Mr Preddle, sir,--are you sure as you loaded the gun?"
"Yes, quite. With one of these cartridges,"--and he went to a box, out
of which he took one with the ball fitted in its place by means of a
couple of tin bands.
"That's right, sir; but did you ram it home?"
"Yes, hard."
Bob Hampton thrust in the rammer and felt the cartridge.
"Yes, sir; seems right. Perhaps the powder's old and damp."
"No; I think it was perfectly dry."
"Humph!" growled Bob; and then an idea seemed to strike him.
"Beg pardon, sir," he cried; "would you mind showing me how you shoved
the cartridge in?"
"Like this," cried Mr Preddle, eagerly, stooping down to apply the
cartridge to the mouth of the little brass gun.
"Sure you did it like that, sir?"
"Yes; certain."
"Then no wonder it didn't go off. Why, that's the way to sarve one o'
them breeches-loaders. You don't put a cartridge ball first into the
muzzle of a gun."
"Why, no!" cried Mr Preddle, colouring like a girl. "How stupid!"
"And we shall have a job to unload her," growled Bob.
But his attention was directly after taken up by the management of the
ship, for the wind held on, and by night we had left the boats down
below the horizon line, invisible to us even from the mast-head.
That proved an anxious time, for the wind sank soon after sunset, and a
careful watch had to be kept, both for the boats, and against our enemy
the fire, which kept on showing that there was still some danger in the
hold.
The next morning dawned with the boats in sight again, and their crews
were evidently straining every nerve to overtake us, for it was once
more a dead calm.
We were more hopeful though, for a couple more applications of the hose
had pretty well extinguished the fire; the cannon had been unloaded and
properly charged; and, best of all, Mr Frewen's patients were all
better, and Mr Brymer sufficiently well to sit up in a chair, and be
brought on deck to take his place as captain, to my intense relief.
The cook had quietly gone to his galley, and then acted as steward as
well, so that while the boats were still miles away, we had the best
breakfast we had been provided with for many days. And, after this,
quite ready for our enemies, and well furnished with weapons, we waited
their coming.
I obtained a glass from the captain's cabin, my principal officer
telling me to keep it as long as I liked, on condition that I kept
reporting to him the state of affairs on deck.
"Everyone is very kind," he said sadly; "but I spend a great many
anxious hours here, longing to hear how things are going on, and if it
were not for Miss Denning, my position would be ten times worse."
I hurried out with the glass, focussed it on the boats, and watched the
men for long enough. The forces had been equalised by four men being
sent out of Jarette's boat to take the places of the men who had
returned to their allegiance, and, as I watched them, I could see that
as they slaved away at the oars, their leader kept jumping up with a
pistol in his hand, to throw himself about wildly, stamping,
gesticulating, and pointing to the ship, as if he were urging the crews
on.
I was not the only one who used a glass, for there was nothing to do now
but wait for the coming attack; and as I had been watching for some time
with the glass on the rail, one eye shut, and the other close to the
glass, I suddenly ceased, for my right eye felt dazzled by the glare of
the sun, and I found that Mr Frewen was close beside me.
"Well, Dale," he said, "who will get tired first--these scoundrels of
attacking us, or we of trying to beat them off?"
"They will," I said decisively, as I closed my glass and tucked it under
my arm. "We've got nothing to do but wait; they've got to row miles in
this hot sun, and then they have to fight afterwards. They can't help
having the worst of it."
"Yes; they have the worst of it," he said, smiling.
"And it strikes me they'd be very glad to--Hurray! here's the wind
again."
For the surface of the sea was dappled with dark patches, and long
before the boats could reach us, we were sailing gently away, certainly
twice as fast as their crews could row.
It is astonishing what effect those gentle breezes had upon our spirits.
I found myself whistling and going to the galley to ask the cook what
there was for dinner, and I found him singing, and polishing away at his
tins, his galley all neat and clean, and the dinner well in progress.
"Well, mutineer," I said; "anything good to-day?"
"Oh, I do call that unkind, Mr Dale, sir, and it isn't true. Didn't I
show you as soon as I could that I wasn't one of that sort?"
"Well, yes, you sneaked back when you thought your side was going to be
beaten."
He looked at me fiercely, but smiled the next moment.
"Plain Irish stoo to-day, sir, made out of Noo Zealand mutton, for I
found the onions. There's plenty of 'em. You don't mean what you said,
sir. Just you have a pistol stuck in one of your ears, and be told that
you're not to be a cook and a slave any more, but to join the
adventurers who are going to live in a beautiful island of their own,
where it's always fine weather, and if you don't you're to be shot.
Why, of course I joined 'em, same as lots more did. Any fellow would
rather live in a beautiful island than have his brains blown out."
"I don't know about that," I said shortly. "I wouldn't on Jarette's
terms."
"No, sir, you wouldn't," said the cook; "but Mr Walters would."
As he spoke he lifted the lid off one of his pots, and gave the contents
a stir round.
"Smell that, sir? There's nothing on Jarette's island as'll come up to
that. But, between ourselves, I don't believe he knows of any island at
all such as he talked about to the men, till he'd gammoned them or
bullied them over. Hah!" he continued, tasting his cookery; "wants a
dash more pepper and a twist of salt, and then that stuff's strong
enough to do the skipper and Mr Denning more good than all the doctor's
stuff. Young Walters, too; he's very bad, isn't he?"
"Terribly."
"Sarve him right. Wonderful island indeed! This galley's good enough
island for me. You didn't mean that, Mr Dale, sir. I got out of the
scrape as soon as I could, and so did those other three lads as come
aboard with me; and we'll all fight jolly hard to keep from getting into
it again. I believe that some of the others would drop the game, and be
glad to get back on board, if they weren't afraid of Frenchy, as we call
him. That man's mad as a hatter, sir."
"That's a true word, cookie," growled Bob Hampton. "You smell good,
mate, but I wish you'd keep your door shut. It makes me feel mut'nous,
and as if I wanted to turn pirate and 'tack the galley."
"Wind going to hold good, Bob?" I said, moving off.
"Arn't seen the clerk o' the weather this mornin', sir, so can't say."
"Jarette's mad--Jarette's mad," I repeated to myself as I left the
galley, and found Mr Preddle, with his head very much swollen and tied
up in a handkerchief, blowing away into the water where his fish still
survived.
"I shall get some of them across after all," he said, with a nod.
"I hope so," I replied; and after a look at the far-distant boats--mere
specks now--I went on aft to have a chat with Mr Denning, who lay on a
mattress in the shade, with his sister reading to him; but there was his
loaded gun lying beside him, to prove that it was not yet all peace. I
stopped to sit down tailor-fashion on the deck and have a chat with them
both, feeling pleased to see how their eyes lit-up, and what smiles
greeted me; and somehow it seemed to me then that they felt toward me as
if I were their younger brother, and they called me by my Christian name
quite as a matter of course.
"If the wind would only keep on!" Miss Denning said.
"Or if Mr Preddle would only use those bellows of his on the sails,"
said her brother, smiling.
"Why, you're ever so much better," I said quickly, "or you wouldn't joke
like that."
"Yes," he said with a sigh, "I feel better. Mr Frewen's doing me good,
or else it's this lovely soft, warm air."
"Oh, we shall have him running ashore in New Zealand like a stag, Miss
Denning," I cried, getting up.
"Don't go yet," she said.
"I must," I cried. "I want to stop, but Mr Brymer uses me now as his
tongue and fists. I have to give all his orders to the men."
I went to where the mate was seated, received his orders, had them
executed, and then met Mr Frewen coming out of Walters' cabin.
"Oh, there you are, Dale," he cried. "Go in and talk to that poor
wretch for a few minutes. You must try and cheer him up, or he'll die,
as sure as I'm here."
"Oh, I say, don't tell me that," I cried. "I don't like him, and I
think he behaved horridly, but I don't want him to die."
I hurried into my messmate's cabin, and found him lying there so ghastly
and strange-looking that I shivered, and began to move on tip-toe.
"Come and sit down a minute, Dale," he said in a weak voice; and I at
once seated myself close to his bunk.
"Want some water?"
"No," he said sadly; "I want nothing now, only for you to promise me
something."
"What is it?"
"I can't write, but I want you to promise me when you get home to go to
my father and mother, and of course they'll know everything from the
papers; but I want you, my messmate, to tell them I was not quite such a
wretch as I seem to have been."
"Oh, never mind about that now," I said. "Get well, and go and tell
them yourself."
"No," he said calmly; "I shall not get well. I could see it in Mr
Frewen's eyes. I'm very glad now. If I got well, of course I should
have to be tried and punished, and be a convict. I should deserve it,
but the judge and lawyers would be very hard, and I don't want them to
try me."
"Oh, come, Walters, old chap," I cried in a choking voice, "don't take
it like that." And I caught his hand in mine, and felt him press it
feebly, as his face lit-up with a pleasant smile, which made him look
quite changed.
"Yes," he said, quite cheerfully, but almost in a whisper, "I must take
it like that now. Old Jarette aimed too well."
He lay looking straight out of the bright cabin-window; while I tried to
speak, but found no words would come. I knew that the wind had dropped
again, for the ship had grown steady once more; but I forgot all about
the approaching boats, and could only sit holding Walters' hand, and
watching his altered face.
"Yes," he said at last, "Jarette aimed too straight, Dale, old fellow,
it has all been a mistake. I was a weak, conceited fool, and thought
every one was against me, when it was all my fault. I know it now. Any
fellow can make himself liked if he only tries--no, without trying, if
he'll only go straight and act like a man. But somehow I couldn't. I
got jealous of you, and wild because people made so much of you. And I
said you hated me, and did all you could to make things worse, but it
wasn't true, Dale, old fellow. It was all my fault."
"Yes, yes; but that's all over, old chap," I said huskily. "You'll get
well, and do your bit of punishment, and make a fresh start."
He looked at me with a smile on his poor wan face, and I never realised
before how good-looking he was. And then I shuddered, for he said
quietly--
"Yes, I shall make a fresh start--somewhere else."
"Walters!" I whispered.
"Yes, somewhere else," he repeated. "It was all wrong; and just when I
was at my worst, that wretch, who had been watching me and reading it
all, came to me, and, as if he were some evil spirit, kept on day after
day, laughing and jeering at me, till he regularly worked round me like
the snake he is, and flattered, and planned, and talked of the future,
till in my weak, vain folly I drank it all in. For I was weak, and he
was strong; and at last, though I didn't know it then, I was his slave,
Dale, and ready to do every bit of villainy he wished. But there, I
need not tell you any more. I only want you, knowing all you do, to go
to my poor old father and mother and tell them everything--how it all
happened. It will be better than for them only to know it from the
papers. They will understand then how it was I went wrong so quickly,
right to the bitter end."
"No," I cried; "you shall go and confess it all yourself."
He laughed gently.
"Oh no. I'm glad Jarette aimed so straight, Dale. It was the kindest
thing he could do. It's all over now. Can't you see it's best?"
"No," I said more firmly. "It would be best for you to get well, and
prove in the future as a man, that you have repented your weakness as a
boy."
"Yes, perhaps," he said, after a long pause; "but it is not to be so.
I'm not going to be tried here, Dale, where no one can tell everything,
and understand how weak I was, and how, from the first day, I bitterly
repented giving that man such power over me. I'm going to be judged
there, Dale, where everything is known."
He closed his eyes as he spoke, and I was going to steal away, but his
grasp tightened on my hand.
"Don't leave me, Dale," he whispered. "You'll promise all this, won't
you?"
"If it is necessary," I said; "but you--"
He opened his eyes, and looked at me, smiling gently, and I ceased
speaking, for I knew that my words were not true as I sat beside him all
through that hot day waiting.
Mr Frewen came in from time to time, but he said little, and Walters
appeared to be dozing for the most part.
"Better stay," Mr Frewen whispered; and then in answer to my
questioning look, he shook his head, and I knew that it was all over.
It was close upon sundown, and the interior of the cabin was filled with
an orange glow when Mr Frewen came in again.
Walters seemed to be fast asleep, quite free from pain, and breathing
easily.
"You must be terribly faint, my lad. You have had nothing," the doctor
whispered.
"Yes, I have," I replied. "Bob Hampton brought me a biscuit and some
soup, and Miss Denning brought me some tea just now."
"Heaven bless her!" he muttered. Then in a quick whisper--"We shall
have to call you up presently, my lad."
"Why?"
"The enemy are closing in. They'll make a desperate fight of it this
time, and every help we can muster is necessary. Eh! Want me?" he
said, as there was a tap on the door.
He went out, and I was thinking whether I could withdraw my hand without
waking Walters, so as to get out on deck and help, when he opened his
eyes and looked round quickly as if he wondered where he was.
Then he saw me and smiled.
"Don't forget, Dale," he whispered. "Now I want Miss Denning."
He loosened my hand, and I went out to find her waiting close by the
door.
"Walters wants to see you, Miss Denning," I said, and she bowed her head
and crept silently into the ruddily-lit cabin, and knelt down by where
Walters lay.
"Yes," he said, holding out his hands. "Thank you. But you tell them--
how sorry--they will listen--to you.--Now--`Our Father'--"
Helena Denning's voice took up the words and went on in a low appealing
murmur, and as I looked wildly in Walters' face, I saw his lips moving
till she uttered the words--"and forgive us our trespasses--"
Then his lips became motionless, his gaze fixed on the golden glory in
the heavens, and I started wildly to my feet, for at that moment there
was a tremendous roar. The heavily-charged cannon had been fired, and I
knew that the enemy were close at hand.
I gave one glance at Miss Denning, who knelt there now, crouching low,
with her face buried in her hands, and then ran on deck ready to help
repel the attack.
For there were the two boats close into the port-gangway, and the men in
them frantically gesticulating and waving their hands.
"Don't--don't fire," one of the men yelled. "We give in."
"Yes, yes; give in," came in a wild chorus.
"The beggars surrender, sir," cried Bob Hampton, who was on his knees
re-charging the cannon. "But get that there poker ready again, Neb.
We'll hit 'em next time if they don't."
"Ahoy!" cried Mr Brymer, through a speaking-trumpet. "One boat come
forward; but if there is any treachery, we'll show no mercy to any one
there."
"Treachery?" shouted a man pitifully, as the first boat was slowly rowed
in. "We're all spent, sir. There arn't a drop o' water. Give us all a
drink first, and then shoot us if you like."
"Where's Jarette?"
"Here, in the bottom, sir, tied neck and heels. He went stark mad last
night, and bit and fought till we had to tie him down under the
thwarts."
"Water--water!--for heaven's sake, water!" came in a piteous chorus, as
the second boat rowed slowly in.
"Is it real or a trick?" said Mr Brymer, in a whisper.
"Real enough," said Mr Frewen. "The men are suffering horribly, and--
oh! look! There's no subterfuge there,--that man--Jarette. He is
dead!"