Fitz the Filibuster Part 27

"Could be, perhaps; but you never had a set-out like this."

"No," said Fitz stiffly, "because the _Tonans_ never runs away."

"That's one for me," said Poole, laughing. "There are times when you must run, my lad, and this is one. Hullo, they're shaking out more canvas. It's going to be yachting now like a race for a cup. It's 'bout ship too."

"Yes, by the way one can feel the wind," replied Fitz; "but I don't believe your people can see which way to steer."

"Nor I neither," said Poole coolly. "Father is going to chance it, I believe. He'll make straight for where he saw the gunboat last, as he thinks, and take it for granted that we can't run on to her. Besides, she is pretty well sure to be on the move."

"Most likely," said Fitz; "but it's terribly risky work."

The rippling of the water under the schooner's bows came very plainly now, as the boys went right forward, where two men were on the look-out.

These they joined, to find that they had the sternest instructions, and these were communicated by the men to the two lads.

"Mustn't speak, gentlemen," they said.

"Just one word," whispered Fitz. "What are you going to do if you make out that you are running right on to the enemy?"

"Whistle," said the man addressed, laconically.

"What, for more wind?" asked Fitz.

"No, sir," said the man, with a low chuckle; "for the man at the wheel.

One pipe means starboard; two pipes, port. See?"

"No," said Poole, "but he can hear."

As they were whispering, the louder rippling beneath the schooner's cut-water plainly told of the rate at which they were gliding through the dark sea. The stars were clear enough overhead, but all in front seemed to be of a deep transparent black, whose hue tinged even the staysail, jib, and flying-jib, bellying out above their heads and in front. As far as the lads could make out they had been running in towards the city, taken a good sweep round, and then been headed out for the open sea, with the schooner careening over and rushing through the water like a racing yacht.

There are some things in life which seem to be extended over a considerable s.p.a.ce of time, apparently hours, but which afterwards during calmer thought prove to have taken up only minutes, and this was one.

Poole had just pointed out in a low whisper that by the stars they were sailing due east, and the man nearest to them, a particularly sharp-eared individual, endorsed his words by whispering laconically--

"Straight for the open sea."

The water was gliding beneath them, divided by the sharp keel, with a hissing rush; otherwise all was still; for all they could make out the gunboat and her satellites, sent out to patrol, might have been miles away. There was darkness before them and on either hand, while in front apparently lay the open ocean, and the exhilaration caused by their rapid motion produced a buoyant feeling suggesting to the lads that the danger was pa.s.sed and that they were free.

Then in another moment it seemed to Fitz Burnett as if some giant hand had caught him by the throat and stopped his breath.

The sensation was appalling, and consequent upon the suddenly-impressed knowledge that, in spite of the fact that there was about a mile and a half of s.p.a.ce of which an infinitesimally small portion was occupied by danger, they were gliding through the black darkness dead on to that little s.p.a.ce, for suddenly in front there arose the dull panting, throbbing sound of machinery, the churning up of water to their left, and the hissing ripple caused by a cut-water to their right.

It was horrible.

They were going dead on to the gunboat, which was steaming slowly across their bows, and it seemed to the breathless, expectant group that the next moment they would be cutting into her side, or more likely crumpling up and shivering to pieces upon her protecting armour. But there is something in having a crew of old man-of-war's men, disciplined and trained to obey orders in emergencies, and thinking of nothing else.

The skipper had given his commands to his two look-out men, and in the imminence of the danger they were obeyed, for as Fitz Burnett gripped his companion's arm, involuntarily drawing him sideways in the direction of the bulwark, to make a leap for life, a sharp clear pipe, like the cry of some sea-bird, rang out twice, while the panting and quivering of the machinery and the churning rush of the gunboat's crew seemed right upon them.

Suddenly there was a loud shout, followed by a yell, the report of a revolver, succeeded by the deep booming roar of a fog-syren which had been set going by the funnel, and then as Fitz Burnett felt that the crash was upon them, the roar of the fog-horn was behind, for the _Teal_ had as nearly as possible sc.r.a.ped past the gunboat's stern, and was flying onward towards the open sea.

For a few moments no one spoke, and then it was one of the look-out men.

"About as near as a toucher, that, messmate."

"Ay, and I seemed to have no wind when I wanted to blow. Once is quite enough for a job like that."

"Is it true, Poole?" whispered Fitz, and his voice sounded hoa.r.s.e and strange.

"I don't quite know yet," was the reply as the lad walked aft. "It seemed so impossible and queer--but it is, and, my word, how close!"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

IN THE DARK.

"Silence there!" came in a stern, deep voice. "Sound travels in a night like this."

It was the speaker's ultra caution spoken in a moment of intense excitement in which he hardly realised how far they had left the gunboat behind. But his orders were obeyed, utter stillness ruling on board the schooner till they had visual proof that there was no necessity for such care.

"What's that? Look!" whispered Fitz, as there was a faint lambent glare far astern, one which gradually increased, and Poole whispered back--

"They are burning a blue light."

"Yes," said the skipper, who was still close at hand. "Know what that means, my boy?"

"Well, I suppose it's to try if they can see us, father."

"Not it," said the skipper sharply. "You know, Mr Burnett?"

"I should say it's a signal, sir, to recall their boats."

"Right, my lad; that's it; and that will take some little time, for I dare say they are spread all over the bay. She's not likely to have a consort; eh, Burgess?"

"I should think not," was the reply. "No, I don't think we need trouble ourselves about that."

"Right, then. Get well out into the offing, and then sail for south-east by south."

The mate grunted, gave an order or two, with the result that a gaff-topsail was run up, and the schooner heeled over more and more, while now the dim light that had been thrown down on the binnacle was increased a little, and the skipper took his place beside the steersman.

"That means that he is not afraid of our being seen," said Poole quietly. "I say, what an escape we had! Don't you call this exciting?"

"Yes," said Fitz; "rather more so than I like. Let's go right forward again to where the look-out men are."

"To help them keep a sharp look-out for rocks? There are none out here, or we shouldn't be going at this rate."

"Think that they will come after us?"

"Sure to," said Poole. "Full steam ahead."