Syd went thoughtfully back, feeling so exhausted and drowsy that twice
over he stumbled, and shook his head to get rid of the sleepy feeling,
for it had been a terribly trying and anxious time.
"I'll go and talk to Strake," he said to himself; and pulling out a
biscuit, he began to nibble it to take off the sensation of faintness
from which he suffered, as he began wondering whether the French would
attack them that night, or come prepared the next day with ladders to
scale the natural wall which was their chief defence.
"All well, Strake?" he said, as he reached the place again where the
boatswain was lying down.
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Halt! who goes there?"
"On'y me," cried a hoarse, excited voice, in a whisper, accompanied by a
panting noise. "Where's father?"
"What, Pan-y-mar?" growled the boatswain. "Just you come here, you
ugly-looking young swab."
"Hush, father!" whispered the boy, coming out of the darkness. "Give's
a cutlash; the French is coming."
"What? Where?" said Syd, eagerly. "To your guns, my lads."
"No, no," cried the boy, in a hurried whisper. "Not that way; they're
coming over the top there."
"He's been dreaming," growled the boatswain. "What d'yer mean, you
dog?"
"I arn't been asleep," cried Pan, angrily; "and I'm so hungry."
"Tell me: what do you mean?" cried Syd.
"I've been a-watching o' Mr Terry, sir. He went down on the rocks over
yonder, and I lay down and see him make signs to the French ship, and
two boats come out and rowed in close to where he was a-hiding down in
one o' them big cracks like I hid in and found the water."
"Yes; go on," whispered Syd, whose heart sank with apprehension.
"And he talked to 'em, and they talked to him, and then rowed back to
the French ship."
"What did they say?"
"I dunno; I was too far off to hear."
"Well, go on."
"I thought he was up to some game, and I lay there and watched him, and
I've been watching of him ever since, till to-night he crawled into the
stores, after hiding all yes' afternoon and to-night, and I see him come
creeping out again with a rope, and he put it over his shoulder. And
then he climbed up one o' those cracks, and I went arter him, and he got
right out there past the water-hole, and then crep' all along till he
got to the place where you hauled Mr Roylance and t'other sailor up
with a rope. And I crep' up close as I could, and lay there watching
him hours till three boats come round from the other side, and then Mr
Terry tied the end of the rope round a big block, and let the other end
down, and I see a French sailor come up, and then another, and another,
and they let down more rope, and they're all climbed up, and they're
coming right up yonder over the top by the flag-post."
"How do you know?"
"'Cos I come that way first, and they was all coming close up arter me
all the time, and I had to come on my hands and knees."
"Why didn't you come the other way, and give the alarm in front?"
"'Cos they've got lots o' fellows there with swords and pistols. I
heard 'em cock."
"Yah! it's all a fancy," growled Strake; "he's scared, and dreamed it."
"I didn't," cried the boy.
"Couldn't climb up there," growled Strake.
"Yes, they could, Strake," cried Syd, excitedly. "Once they were on the
rock they could climb up, and--yes, they'd come over by the flagstaff."
"I tell yer the young swab dreamt it."
"Ahoy! help!"
_Bang! bang! Bang! bang_!--Pistol-shots from high up by the flagstaff;
and as the men seized their cutlasses and pistols, and, with Syd and
Roylance at their head, advanced up the gap to meet this treacherous
attack from the rear, there was the clash of steel, the sounds of
struggling, then a momentary silence, followed by a few sharp orders,
and the rattling noise of stones told that a strong party of men were
coming down the rough path from the flagstaff.
"Forward, my lads!" cried Roy lance; "we may beat them back."
The men gave a cheer, and advanced quickly, the excitement of all taking
them from the battery, which was left defenceless.
As they advanced, the old feeling of terror that he had always felt when
about to engage in a school-fight was for a few moments in Sydney's
breast; then the eager excitement carried all away, and, sword in hand,
he ran on with his men.
Directly after there was the shock and confusion of the two parties
meeting, with stray shots, the clatter of sword against sword, with
sparks flying in the darkness, and the shouts and cheers of contending
men.
What he did Syd never knew, for everything was centred in the one idea
that he was leading his father's men, and that he must try and be brave.
And if being brave meant rushing on with them right at the descending
Frenchmen, he was brave enough.
So vigorous was the rush, and so desperate were the little English party
at being surprised in so sudden a fashion, that the first group of the
enemy were driven backward toward the path by which they had climbed
down. But more and more were hurrying from above to their help, the
officers threw themselves to the front, and the flight was stayed, while
quite a series of single combats began to take place.
"Give it 'em, boys! Old England for ever!" was yelled out in the
darkness, close by to where Syd was cutting and thrusting at an active
little Frenchman. Then there came a groan, and the same voice said
hoarsely--
"Oh, if I had my strength!"
"Hurrah, boys! they're giving way!" shouted Roylance. "Keep together,
and over with them."
For in spite of the bravery of their officers, the French were yielding
ground once more, and being slowly driven up the narrowing path. But
there was a fresh burst of cheering, the hurry of feet, and about twenty
of the French frigate's crew, who had taken advantage of the little
garrison being attacked from the rear, and crept up to the cliff wall to
scale it with a spar, one man going up with a rope which he had secured
to a gun, soon turned the tables again.
With enemies before and behind triple their strength, and taking them in
each case so thoroughly by surprise, the _melee_ did not last long. Syd
was conscious of seeing sparks after what seemed to be a loud clap of
thunder above his head, and the next thing he knew was that Roylance was
saying--
"Belt, lad, do, do try and speak."
"Speak? yes," he faltered. "What's the matter?"
"Matter! don't ask."
"But what does it mean? Where are we? Has Terry won?"
"My poor old fellow, you haven't been fighting Terry--yes, you have--a
coward! he is with the French."
"And--" cried Syd, sitting up, "are we beaten?"
"Yes! no!" cried Roylance. "They're all down or prisoners--but eight of
us here."
"Where are we?" said Syd, who felt sick and dizzy.
"Up in the little top battery, and they're coming on again. Stand by,
lads!"
Syd rose to his feet as the men cheered, and stood with his sword
hanging by the knot to his wrist, holding on by the rough stone wall,
looking over into the starlit gloom at a body of French sailors
apparently about to attack. Just then an officer stepped forward, and
said, cheerily--
"_Rendez-vous, mes braves. Parlez, vous_!" he continued, turning to
some one at his side.
"Here, you there!--the French officer says it's no use to fight any
longer; he has taken the place, so give up."
"Terry!" cried Roylance; "you miserable traitor!" and the men around
burst into a loud groan, and hooted the renegade.
"Yes, traitor!" cried Syd, excitedly; and forgetting his wound,
"coward!"
"Coward yourself!" cried Terry. "Do you think I was going to stay in a
service which compelled men to serve under a contemptible boy like you?
Here, my lads, it's no use to resist. Give up, and you will have good
treatment as prisoners. Come out."
"Do you hear, lads?" cried Roylance. "Will you do as the new
English-French deserter says?"
"No!" roared the men; and Rogers' voice rose above them--"Say, lads,
it's yard-arm for a desarter, eh?"
"Yes."
Terry turned away savagely, and they saw him saying something to the
French officer--saw him dimly, as it seemed, then more plainly, for day
was breaking with the rapidity of the change in the tropics; and as a
movement took place, they all knew that a final assault was to be given,
and must go against them.
Then the spirit of Syd's family seemed to send a flush through him; he
forgot his pain, the sickness passed off, and he turned to gaze on the
torn and blood-stained men about him.
"French and English," he cried, raising his sword.
"Hurray!" shouted the brave fellows; and every cutlass flashed as they
prepared to defend their tiny stronghold, built up for the very
emergency in which they were.
"_Rendez, messieurs_!" shouted the French officer, half appealingly.
"_Non, non_!" shouted Sydney, excitedly.
"_En avant_!" rang out the order, and with a rush the men came on in the
rapidly increasing morning light.
At that moment the rocks echoed and quivered as a heavy gun thundered
forth.