"What ship is that?"
"_Kaiser the Second_ of Germany. Who are you?"
"The Russian cruiser _Borloff_, Captain, his Excellency the Count
Kaskovisky."
"We don't believe you."
"Take that, then, as you can take no snuff."
Immediately a torpedo was let fly, followed by the roar of big artillery
that all but swept the German into the sea, guns and all. She was hard
hit and reeled and swayed like an old tub.
At that very moment the spirit of old Nelson seemed to entered into the
soul of Captain Breezy.
"Away boarders!" he yelled. "Steer her close alongside. Hurrah! boys,
Hurrah! We'll give her old fashioned fits. Keep the flash-light on us.
Follow me!" and he was the first himself to board, all the officers and
men that could be spared scrambling after him.
Kep, too, was near him, with his borrowed cutlass.
Oh, God! what a _melee_.
The Germans fought well for a short time. The big doctor with his
broadsword must have slain a dozen.
The ring of revolvers, the clashing of steel, the thuds, the blows, the
cries and groans, ay, and the terrible oaths as men struck home with
knife or bayonet.
In fifteen minutes the crew had sought shelter below, and the Captain
himself and those of his officers not killed or wounded had handed their
swords to Captain Breezy. Breezy thanked them coolly and quietly.
"And now, sir, your ship is sinking and on fire forward. Call your men
up unarmed to take refuge on our ship. Quickly too, or we must haul
off, and leave you."
Kep rushed aft and hauled down the German flag. He wrapped it around him
like a Scottish plaid, and shouted Hurrah!
No attempt was made to quench the fire; but side by side British and
Germans worked bravely for nearly half an hour under the command of
McTavish, till they got the wounded taken on board the _Breezy_, then
the latter speedily steamed off and away.
None too soon, for they were but half a mile off when the _Kaiser_ blew
up. Oh, a terrible sight, such as I trust your eyes, my youthful
readers, may never behold.
The Germans were really good fellows, and thought of the loss of their
ship as a mere trick of fortune.
The unwounded men were landed as prisoners next morning on this thrice
beautiful Isle. But Captain and officers as well as the wounded were
kept as prisoners of war.
The British merchant ships went on their several ways rejoicing at the
turn of the tide, and the German prisoners seemed as happy as schoolboys
in a strawberry patch, only they smoked all day, a thing that boys who
want to grow up hardy and well should never do.
The Captain of the sunken cruiser could talk good English and so could
his officers, and they told many a side-splitting yarn after dinner, so
they were really good company.
They were good musicians too, and were both thrilled and delighted when
Kep took out his magical little black flute with which he had charmed
both snakes and savages.
But they would have McTavish to play them on the great Highland
bagpipes, laments, coronachs, and battle pieces. They had never heard
so wonderful or warlike an instrument before.
"Shall I play you a lullaby or cradle hymn, Captain?"
"Mein Gott!" exclaimed the German. "You think you can play a lullaby on
that."
"Sit here a moment, sir. The skylights are open and I am going to play
well forward, or in the ship's waist. Listen."
He went below first to the cook's galley to tune properly up.
Then in a few minutes the lullaby began. It seemed the lowest and
dreamiest music those Germans ever listened to, and appeared to be
coming up out of some dreary pine-forest, or from far away behind a
heather hill.
"Dat was glorious," cried the German. "Oh, Captain Breezy, send a
sentry to request an encore." When the last notes filled the air in
cadence long and low, there were tears in that Captain's eyes.
"You are a wonderful peoples, you Scotch," he said, as McTavish flung
the pipes on the sofa. "Love, romance and music dwells only in a
mountain-land."
One day, not long after this, the _Breezy_ was sighted by a Russian
battle-ship. Had this vessel overhauled her, they would have fought
like mountain cats, and would have probably sunk with the British
colours flying.
There was no occasion, for just then a huge and majestic British ship
hove in sight, and the Russian now took to her heels, showing her ugly
stern, with the Britisher, after an exchange of salutes with the
_Breezy_, going full speed after her.
They passed to the east of the Channel Islands that evening.
"Now," said Breezy to Kep, "we have some considerable amount of repairs
to make, as I don't want to go into port like a lame duck. So, lad, if
you choose, I shall cast anchor just off your father's village of
Mareton and complete repairs there, and you can ask your people to come
off every day."
"Oh, how can I ever thank you, sir?"
"By holding your peace, lad. But," he added, "I'll be bound that the
broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ will manage to amuse them."
When big McTavish heard this, strong though he was, he became almost
hysterical at the thought of seeing Madge again once more.
Says Kep: "I say, old Mac, let me give you a straight tip. Not a word
then about your having any money, nor about the treasure. My family are
proud, and if my sister does not marry you for your own dear self,
sister of mine though she be, she is not worth having."
"So be it, Kep, my friend."
Next morning the good people of Maretown were surprised to see a bonnie
cruiser lying at anchor in the bay, her beautiful flag almost trailing
on the surface of the calm unruffled ocean. And about two bells in the
forenoon watch, a light boat was lowered nimbly and came dancing
shorewards, a young officer holding the ribbons.
She was beached on the sand, and in a few minutes' time Kep was rattling
up the green cliffs and landed just opposite his dear father's door.
He knew it, because Bounder--the same dear old Bounder--came fiercely on
him when he attempted to open the gate. But a word from the boy changed
all this to wildest joy, and the boy received a real dog-welcome. Not
content with kissing him and knocking his cap off, he seized that cap
and went bounding round and round on a grand circus tour with it. Round
and round he dashed through the shrubberies and ferns, across the lawns
and over flower-beds and borders, finally darting in through the hall
doorway, where he laid the cap graciously at the feet of his mistress.
And then they knew by that dog's joyous countenance, and his smiles
canine, that it was the _Breezy_ that lay at anchor in the blue
summer-lit bay, and that the long lost boy had indeed returned.
Both father and sister rushed out, meeting Kep on the lawn, and I just
leave it to yourself to imagine what his reception was.
Why, while the sister hugged and kissed him, poor Drummond himself, with
tears in his eyes, stood holding his hand, bare-headed in the sunshine.
They led him in and he spent a whole all too short hour with him, and
then went off with reluctance.
He promised to bring a bigger boat for them at one bell for luncheon.
"I think," said Kep, as he said good-bye for a time, "I think, when you
hear my record from Captain's lips, you will believe that I never
disgraced the grand old name of Drummond."
McTavish himself was at the gangway when the Captain's boat brought
Drummond and his daughter Madge off to luncheon. He helped them on
deck, Madge first tenderly, but shyly, the father next, somewhat
reservedly.
And Madge, who walked up and down the deck with McTavish, she asking the
drollest questions imaginable about great guns and torpedoes, never
heeding or caring what the answers were, because she was thinking of
matters far different, Madge, I say, captivated all hands, from the
Captain right down to the cook's slush boy. No wonder, with her dark
and beautiful eyes, her gentle ways, her wealth of hair and pearly
teeth, and her ripe red lips that so strangely contrasted with her
almost brown skin, for she was half an Italian and sea breezes had done
the rest. For Madge from her very infancy had loved the ocean wild and
wide, ni sunshine or in howling storm.
So these two walked together, saying not a word that would have revealed
to them how very nearly their hearts were one.
But the steward himself came up at last to tell them that luncheon was
about to be served. Then below they went hand in hand, and took their
places quietly, she between her father and Kep, McTavish to the left of
Kep.
The Captain lunched in the ward-room to-day, and everyone at table was
very happy and gay. And all talked about their wild adventures, but
never a soul spoke about the treasure that lay below.
Somehow or other, Drummond was captivated by the stalwart doctor. The
latter listened respectfully to all the Squire said, but by no means in
a cringing way. Drummond came of a good old family, but the doctor's
was older still.
The Squire was not yet fifty, but through long worry and sorrow his hair
was white as snow. Consequently the middies called him old.
McTavish had the gift of diplomacy.
And here is a hint or two to my younger readers, who may wish to curry
favour with some white-haired uncle they have not seen before, but think
old.
You will naturally imagine that he is deaf. Make no such mistake.
Don't shout at him while at table, lowering your voice when you turn to
talk to others. If you do so what a little ill-mannered brat he will
consider you.
Never tell him that he looks a little poorly, "sir." In fact the less
you "sir" the better.
Never, in asking a question, prefix it with the words: "I suppose when
you were young, sir."
Never, if talking about ages or the long ago, make use of the words:
"Oh! you may live a good few years yet, sir."
For there is a good chance of the boy who smokes cigarettes and reads
the sporting papers being dead long, long before the man of fifty.
And never on any account hold out your arm as if to support him when
alighting from a carriage, or ten to one you'll receive a snub.
If invited to such a gentleman's house, leave all your swagger at home,
and don't go chucking the maids under the chin and calling them "Mary."
The result would probably be that you would be speedily kicked out by
the old guv'nor.
And men of fifty can kick too. It is the scientific kick, not done with
the toe of the boot but the flat sole. You get there all the same,
however, that is, sprawling on your face on the muddy pavement.
These words may be a digression, boys, but they are very true.
The engineers all that day were busy repairing, but next day was
Saturday, and till well into the dog watches McTavish thought he had
never spent such an anxious day, but about five o'clock the gig was
called away, and the doctor himself went in her.
He almost lifted Madge into the boat, but said laughingly to her father,
"I needn't assist you, Squire; you've been in many a brave boat." And
Drummond felt as lively as a kitten.
Such a really delightful evening was spent, and so downright happy were
Madge and McTavish, to say nothing of everybody else, that naughty old
Time flew as quickly by as if he had hired a motor-car for the express
purpose.
*CHAPTER XXVIII*
*NOT ANOTHER "BUT" ABOUT IT*
The dinner that evening was a great success, as society reporters say.
But I am writing facts--true facts, not the ordinary kind that are good
enough for newspapers.
Happy crew, happy officers! Madge was very much at home, and at ease,
but who would not be so at a Royal Navy mess dinner.
Only sometimes McTavish was too quiet, and apparently a trifle sad. He
was wondering to himself what this depression might portend.
"What are you thinking about, Mac," cried Guilford; "why, you've got a
face like a latter day saint."
Mac laughed, blushed a little--for it is only men nowadays who do
blush--but with an extreme effort he shook himself, mentally that is,
and for the remainder of the evening was the life and soul of the
ward-room.
No one spoke much about adventures. When the Captain was asked about
those in New Guinea, he only laughed. "We sailor men," he said, "think
little of adventure, so used to it, and as for bravery in the
battlefield, why my worthy surgeon McTavish will tell you that to be
slain is a far less cruel death than dying in bed."
The band to-night was playing at first delightful selections from
operas, then they got on to the sweet bonnie lilts of old Scotland.
Then to waltzes, and this was more than blood of sailors could stand.
The middies had turned out in a body, and the men forward, too, kept it
up.
Then McTavish, with Madge, and every other wardroom officer with any
partner they could pick up.
"May I lead you forward sister dear, just to show you how our fellows
can hornpipe."
The band stopped now. Kep's marvellous pipe soon filled the deck with
hornpipe dancers. As soon as one dropped out of the ring another hopped
in and this continued for an hour.
Then came the broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ on deck, and this was the
grandest treat ever Madge had known in all her young lifetime. But the
duel between Stormalong and McTavish fairly brought down the house.
Mac of course had the tartans on, and being begged of to dance the sword
dance, he did so, and with real Highland glee too.
Poor Squire Drummond was visibly affected,
But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, the bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white, then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place.
Every good time has an end. And so had this evening.
Kep and Mac took Madge and her father on shore. Hardly anyone spoke. No
one could under such a starlit canopy with the big moon silvering all
the sea southwards.
I wonder what made Mac squeeze the little hand that somehow--accident, I
suppose--found its way into his, and was the gentle pressure he thought
was returned, all mere imagination on his part?
* * * * *
Next evening Kep went on shore with his friend McTavish. They went
long, long before sundown, because first the surgeon must talk a bit
with the Squire, then Madge and the young men were going to be off on a
ramble over the moor with Bounder.
The Squire and the gallant Navy surgeon talked chiefly about Scotland
and the Clans. The ancestors of both had been out in the 45.
Drummond found that Mac was descended directly from a chief of the
McTavish clan, which delighted the old man.
What delighted him most, however, was Mac's sturdily stating the facts
which English boys need so much to be taught, that the short but bloody
war that took place between the Jacobites and the Hanoverian was
decidedly not a war between Scotland and England. There were as many
so-called "Royalists" in Scotland as there were so-called rebels. That
had Prince Charlie reached Norfolk his army would have been trebled in
number.
"God bless you, young fellow."
And hand met hand in a hearty shake.
Away over hill and dale now for a long stroll. But where was Kep and
Bounder. The restless Kep had gone on before. He left word with the
housekeeper that he had gone on and that they would find him--forest
way. I'm really afraid that Kep was a sly little dog.
"Oh, we'll find him," said McTavish, and away the two went together up
and across the moor.
I'm sure of one thing, that McTavish, did not talk about Scotland and
the Clans to his sweet and beautiful companion. They gathered wild
flowers instead, and Mac could name them all and tell the story of their
lives.
Sweet occupation!
Then, by chance I suppose, they entered a shady, ferny dell, and down
they sat upon a rock. Then the past somehow came back and their romance
in fair Italy.
Suddenly the girl burst into tears.
He was an awkward fellow, this Mac, and really was at a loss what to do
or what to say.
But he blurted out at last--"Oh, dearest on earth, life of my life, soul
of my soul, we love each other. Will you not be mine?"