The nature of this part of our story requires that we should turn back,
repeatedly, in order to trace the movements of the different parties
which co-operated with each other.
While the warlike demonstrations we have described were being made by
the British cruiser, the crew of the _Foam_ were not idle.
In consequence of the capture of Bumpus by the savages, Gascoyne's
message was, of course, not delivered to Manton, and the first mate of
the sandalwood trader would have known nothing about the fight that
raged on the other side of the island on the Sunday, but for the three
shots, fired by the first lieutenant of the _Talisman_, which decided
the fate of the day.
Being curious to know the cause of the firing, Manton climbed the
mountains until he gained the dividing ridge--which, however, he did not
succeed in doing till late in the afternoon, the way being rugged as
well as long. Here he almost walked into the midst of a flying party of
the beaten savages; but dropping suddenly behind a rock, he escaped
their notice. The haste with which they ran, and the wounds visible on
the persons of many of them, were sufficient to acquaint the mate of the
_Foam_ with the fact that a fight had taken place in which the savages
had been beaten; and his knowledge of the state of affairs on the island
enabled him to jump at once to the correct conclusion that the Christian
village had been attacked.
A satanic smile played on the countenance of the mate as he watched the
savages until they were out of sight; then, quitting his place of
concealment, he hurried back to the schooner, which he reached some time
after nightfall.
Immediately on gaining the deck he gave orders to haul the chain of the
anchor short, to shake out the sails, and to make other preparations to
avail himself without delay of the light breeze off the land which his
knowledge of the weather and the locality taught him to look for before
morning.
While his orders were being executed, a boat came alongside with that
part of the crew which had been sent ashore by Gascoyne to escape the
eye of the British commander. It was in charge of the second mate--a
short, but thick-set and extremely powerful man, of the name of
Scraggs--who walked up to his superior the moment he came on board, and,
in a tone somewhat disrespectful, asked what was going to be done.
"Don't you see," growled Manton; "we're getting ready to sail."
"Of course I see that," retorted Scraggs, between whom and his superior
officer there existed a feeling of jealousy as well as of mutual
antipathy, for reasons which will be seen hereafter; "but I should like
to know where we are going, and why we are going anywhere without the
captain. I suppose I am entitled to ask that much."
"It's your business to obey orders," said Manton, angrily.
"Not if they are in opposition to the captain's orders," replied
Scraggs, firmly, but in a more respectful tone; for in proportion as he
became more mutinous, he felt that he could afford to become more
deferential. "The captain's last orders to you were to remain where you
are; I heard him give them, and I do not feel it my duty to disobey him
at _your_ bidding. You'll find, too, that the crew are of my way of
thinking."
Manton's face flushed crimson, and, for a moment, he felt inclined to
seize a handspike and fell the refractory second mate therewith; but the
looks of a few of the men who were standing by and had overheard the
conversation, convinced him that a violent course of procedure would do
him injury. Swallowing his passion, therefore, as he best could, he
said--
"Come, Mr Scraggs, I did not expect that _you_ would set a mutinous
example to the men; and if it were not that you do so out of respect for
the supposed orders of the captain, I would put you in irons at once."
Scraggs smiled sarcastically at this threat, but made no reply, and the
mate continued--
"The captain did indeed order me to remain where we are, but I have
since discovered that the black dogs have attacked the Christian
settlement, as it is called, and you know as well as I do, that Gascoyne
would not let slip the chance to pitch into the undefended village of
the niggers, and pay them off for the mischief they have done to us more
than once. At any rate, I mean to go round and blow down their log huts
with Long Tom; so you can go ashore if you don't like the work."
Manton knew well, when he made this allusion to mischief formerly done
to the crew of the _Foam_, that he touched a rankling sore in the breast
of Scraggs, who in a skirmish with the natives some time before had lost
an eye; and the idea of revenging himself on the defenceless women and
children of his enemies was so congenial to the mind of the second mate,
that his objections to act willingly under Manton's orders were at once
removed.
"Ha!" said he, commencing to pace to and fro on the quarter-deck with
his superior officer, while the men made the necessary preparations for
the intended assault, "that alters the case, Mr Manton. I don't think,
however, that Gascoyne would have taken advantage of the chance to give
the brutes what they deserve, for I must say he does seem to be
unaccountably chicken-hearted; perhaps it's as well that he's out of the
way. Do you happen to know where he is or what he's doing?"
"Not I. No doubt he is playing some sly game with this British cruiser,
and I dare say he may be lending a hand to the settlers, for he's got
some strange interests to look after there, you know," (here both men
laughed,) "and I shouldn't wonder if he was beforehand with us in
pitching into the niggers. He is always ready enough to fight in
self-defence, though we can never get him screwed up to the assaulting
point."
"Ay, we saw something of the fighting from the hill tops, but as it is
no business of ours, I brought the men down in case they might be wanted
aboard."
"Quite right, Scraggs. You're a judicious fellow to send on a dangerous
expedition. I'm not sure, however, that Gascoyne would thank you for
leaving him to fight the savages alone." Manton chuckled as he said
this, and Scraggs grinned maliciously as he replied--
"Well, it can't exactly be said that I've _left_ him, seeing that I have
not been with him since we parted aboard of this schooner, and as to his
fightin' the niggers alone,--hasn't he got ever so many hundred
_Christian_ niggers to help him to lick the others?"
"True," said Manton, while a smile of contempt curled his lip. "But
here comes the breeze, and the sun won't be long behind it. All the
better for the work we've got to do. Mind your helm there. Here, lads,
take a pull at the topsail halyards; and some of you get the nightcap
off Long Tom. I say, Mr Scraggs, should we shew them the _red_, by way
of comforting their hearts?"
Scraggs shook his head dubiously. "You forget the cruiser. She has
eyes aboard, and may chance to set them on that same red, in which case
it's likely she would shew us her teeth."
"And what then?" demanded Manton, "are _you_ also growing
chicken-hearted. Besides," he added in a milder tone, "the cruiser is
quietly at anchor on the other side of the island, and there's not a
captain in the British navy who could take a pinnace, much less a ship,
through the reefs at the north end of the island without a pilot."
"Well," returned Scraggs, carelessly, "do as you please. It's all one
to me."
While the two officers were conversing, the active crew of the _Foam_
were busily engaged in carrying out the orders of Manton, and the
graceful schooner glided swiftly along the coast before the same breeze
which urged the _Talisman_ to the north end of the island. The former,
having few reefs to avoid, approached her destination much more rapidly
than the latter, and there is no doubt that she would have arrived first
on the scene of action had not the height and form of the cliffs
prevented the wind from filling her sails on two or three occasions.
Meanwhile, in obedience to Manton's orders, a great and very peculiar
change was effected in the outward aspect of the _Foam_. To one
unacquainted with the character of the schooner, the proceedings of her
crew must have seemed unaccountable as well as surprising. The
carpenter and his assistants were slung over the sides of the vessel,
upon which they plied their screwdrivers for a considerable time with
great energy, but, apparently, with very little result. In the course
of a quarter of an hour, however, a long narrow plank was loosened,
which, when stripped off, discovered a narrow line of bright scarlet
running quite round the vessel, a little more than a foot above the
water-line. This having been accomplished, they next proceeded to the
figurehead, and, unscrewing the white lady who smiled there, fixed in
her place a hideous griffin's head, which, like the ribbon, was also
bright scarlet. While these changes were being effected, others of the
crew removed the boat that lay on the deck, bottom up, between the
masts, and uncovered a long brass pivot-gun of the largest calibre,
which shone in the saffron light of morning like a mass of burnished
gold. This gun was kept scrupulously clean and neat in all its
arrangements; the rammers, sponges, screws, and other apparatus
belonging to it, were neatly arranged beside it, and four or five of its
enormous iron shot were piled under its muzzle. The traversing gear
connected with it was well greased, and, in short, everything about the
gun gave proof of the care that was bestowed on it.
But these were not the only alterations made in the mysterious schooner.
Round both masts were piled a number of muskets, boarding-pikes,
cutlasses, and pistols, all of which were perfectly clean and bright,
and the men--fierce enough and warlike in their aspect at all times--had
now rendered themselves doubly so, by putting on broad belts with
pistols therein, and tucking up their sleeves to the shoulders, thereby
displaying their brawny arms as if they had dirty work before them.
This strange metamorphosis was finally completed when Manton, with his
own hands, ran up to the peak of the mainsail a bright scarlet flag with
the single word "AVENGER" on it in large black letters.
During one of those lulls in the breeze to which we have referred, and
while the smooth ocean glowed in the mellow light that ushered in the
day, the attention of those on board the _Avenger_ (as we shall call the
double-faced schooner when under red colours) was attracted to one of
the more distant cliffs, on the summit of which human beings appeared to
be moving.
"Hand me that glass," said Manton to one of the men beside him. "I
shouldn't wonder if the niggers were up to some mischief there. Ah!
just so," he exclaimed, adjusting the telescope a little more correctly,
and again applying it to his eye. "They seem to be scuffling on the top
of yonder precipice. Now there's one fellow down; but it's so far off
that I can't make out clearly what they're about. I say, Mr Scraggs,
get the other glass and take a squint at them--you are farther sighted
than I am."
"You're right; they are killin' one another up yonder," observed
Scraggs, surveying the group on the cliffs with calm indifference.
"Here comes the breeze," exclaimed Manton, with a look of satisfaction.
"Now, look alive, lads; we shall be close on the nigger village in five
minutes--it's just round the point of this small island close ahead.
Come, Mr Scraggs, we've other business on hand just now than squinting
at the scrimmages of these fellows."
"Hold on," cried Scraggs with a grin; "I do believe they're going to
pitch a feller over that cliff. What a crack he'll come down into the
water with, to be sure. It's to be hoped the poor man is dead, for his
own sake, before he takes that flight. Hallo!" added Scraggs with an
energetic shout and a look of surprise, "I say, that's one of _our_ men;
I know him by his striped flannel shirt. If he would only give up
kicking for a second I'd make out his--humph! it's all up with him now,
poor fellow, whoever he is."
As he said the last words, the figure of a man was seen to shoot out
from the cliff, and, descending with ever increasing rapidity, to strike
the water with terrific violence, sending up a jet of white foam as it
disappeared.
"Stand by to lower the gig," shouted Manton.
"Ay, ay, sir," was the hearty response of the men, as some of them
sprang to obey.
"Lower away!"
The boat struck the water, and its crew were on the thwarts in a moment.
At the same time the point of the island was passed, and the native
village opened up to view.
"Load Long Tom--double shot!" roared Manton, whose ire was raised not so
much at the idea of a fellow-creature having been so barbarously
murdered, as at the notion of one of the crew of his schooner having
been so treated by contemptible niggers. "Away, lads, and pick up that
man."
"It's of no use," remonstrated Scraggs; "he's done for by this time."
"I know it," said Manton, with a fierce oath, "bring him in, dead or
alive; if the sharks leave an inch of him, bring it to me. I'll make
the black villains eat it raw."
This ferocious threat was interlarded with and followed by a series of
terrible oaths which we think it inadvisable to repeat.
"Starboard!" he shouted to the man at the helm, as soon as the boat shot
away on its mission of mercy.
"Starboard it is."
"Steady!"
While he gave these orders, Manton sighted the brass gun carefully, and,
just as the schooner's head came up to the wind, he applied the match.
Instantly a cloud of smoke obscured the centre of the little vessel as
if her powder magazine had blown up, and a deafening roar went ringing
and reverberating from cliff to cliff as two of the great iron shot were
sent groaning through the air and pitched right into the heart of the
village.
It was this tremendous shot from Long Tom, followed almost
instantaneously by the entire broadside of the _Talisman_, that saved
the life of Alice, possibly the lives of her young companions also,--
that struck terror to the hearts of the savages, causing them to
converge towards their defenceless homes from all directions, and that
apprised Ole Thorwald and Henry Stuart that the assault on the village
had commenced in earnest.