Billy Topsail & Company Part 37

"Come to report, sir," said the nearest wrecker. "We seed you was aground, young skipper, and we thought we'd help you ash.o.r.e with the cargo."

Billy rested his left hand on the head of a powder keg, which stood on end on the counter beside him. His right stole towards the candlestick. There was a light in his blue eyes--a glitter or a twinkle--which might have warned the wreckers, had they known him better.

"I order you ash.o.r.e!" he said, slowly. "I order you _all_ ash.o.r.e.

You've no right aboard this ship. If I had my gun----"

"Sure, you left it on deck."

"If I had my gun," Billy pursued, "I'd have the right t' shoot you down."

The manner of the speech--the fierce intensity of it--impressed the wreckers. They perceived that the boy's face had turned pale, that his eyes were flashing strangely. They were unused to such a depth of pa.s.sion. It may be that they were reminded of a bear at bay.

"I believe he'd do it," said one.

An uneasy quiet followed; and in that silence Billy heard the prow of another punt strike the ship. More footfalls came shuffling aft--other faces peered down the companionway. One man pushed his way through the group and made as if to come down the ladder.

"Stand back!" Billy cried.

The threat in that shrill cry brought the man to a stop. He turned; and that which he saw caused him to fall back upon his fellows. There was an outcry and a general falling away from the cabin door. Some men ran forward to the punts.

"The lad's gone mad!" said one. "Leave us get ash.o.r.e!"

Billy had whipped the stopper out of the hole in the head of the powder keg, had s.n.a.t.c.hed the candle from the socket, carefully guarding its flame, and now sat, triumphantly gazing up, with the b.u.t.t of the candle through the hole in the keg and the flame flickering above its depths.

"Men," said he, when they had gathered again at the door, "if I let that candle slip through my fingers, you know what'll happen." He paused; then he went on, speaking in a quivering voice: "My friends left me in charge o' this here schooner, and I've been caught nappin'.

If I'd been on deck, you wouldn't have got aboard. But now you are aboard, and 'tis all because I didn't do my duty. Do you think I care what becomes o' me now? Do you think I don't care whether I do my duty or not? I tell you fair that if you don't go ash.o.r.e I'll drop the candle in the keg. If one o' you dares come down that ladder, I'll drop it. If I hear you lift the hatches off the hold, I'll drop it. If I hear you strike a blow at the ship, I'll drop it. Hear me?" he cried. "If you don't go, I'll drop it!"

The candle trembled between Billy's fingers. It slipped, fell an inch or more, but his fingers gripped it again before he lost it. The wreckers recoiled, now convinced that the lad meant no less than he said.

"I guess you'd do it, b'y," said the man who had attempted to descend.

"Sure," he repeated, with a glance of admiration for the boy's pluck, "I guess you would."

"'Tis not comfortable here," said another. "Sure, he might drop it by accident. Make haste, b'ys! Let's get ash.o.r.e."

"Good-night, skipper, sir!" said the first.

"Good-night, sir!" said Billy, grimly.

With that they went over the side. Billy heard them leap into the punts, push off, and row away. Then silence fell--broken only by the ripple of the water, the noise of the wind in the rigging, the swish of breakers drifting in. The boy waited a long time, not daring to venture on deck, lest they should be lying in wait for him at the head of the ladder. He listened for a footfall, a noise in the hold, the shifting of the deck cargo; but he heard nothing.

When the candle had burned low, he lighted another, put the b.u.t.t through the hole, and jammed it. At last he fell asleep, with his head resting on a pile of dress-goods; and the candle was burning unattended. He was awakened by a hail from the deck.

"Billy, b'y, where is you?"

It was Skipper Bill's hearty voice; and before Billy could tumble up the ladder, the skipper's bulky body closed the exit.

"She's all safe, sir!" said the boy.

Skipper Bill at that moment caught sight of the lighted candle. He s.n.a.t.c.hed it from its place, dropped it on the floor and stamped on it.

He was a-tremble from head to foot.

"What's this foolery?" he demanded, angrily.

Billy explained.

"It was plucky, b'y," said the skipper, "but 'twas wonderful risky."

"Sure, there was no call to be afraid."

"No call to be afraid!" cried the skipper.

"No, sir--no," said Billy. "There's not a grain of powder in the keg."

"Empty--an empty keg?" the skipper roared.

"Do you think," said Billy, indignantly, "that I'd have risked the schooner that way if 'twas a full keg?"

Skipper Bill stared; and for a long time afterwards he could not look at Billy without staring.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

_In Which Skipper Bill, as a Desperate Expedient, Contemplates the Use of His Teeth, and Archie Armstrong, to Save His Honour, Sets Sail in a Basket, But Seems to Have Come a Cropper_

Billy Topsail suddenly demanded:

"Where's the _Grand Lake_?"

"The _Grand Lake_," Skipper Bill drawled, with a sigh, "is somewheres t' the s'uth'ard footin' it for St. John's."

"You missed her!" Billy accused.

"Didn't neither," said the indignant skipper. "She steamed right past Hook-an'-Line without a wink in that direction."

This was shocking news.

"Anyhow," said little Donald North, as though it mattered importantly, "we seed her smoke."

Billy looked from Donald to Jimmie, from Jimmie to Bagg, from Bagg to the skipper; and then he stared about.

"Where's Archie?" he asked.

"Archie," the skipper replied, "is footin' it for St. John's, too.

'Skipper Bill,' says Archie, 'Billy Topsail has kep' that schooner safe. I knows he has. It was up t' Billy Topsail t' save the firm from wreckers an' I'll lay you that Billy Topsail has saved the firm. Now, Skipper Bill,' says Archie, 'you go back t' Jolly Harbour an' get that schooner off. You get her off somehow. Get her off jus' as soon as you can,' says he, 'an' fetch her to St. John's.'