Fitz the Filibuster Part 47

"Slipped," said Fitz, with a gasp. "The wood's like ice."

"Precious hot ice. I'm dripping. Do take care. If you go overboard you'll be swept right away, and I'm bothered if I come after you."

"I don't believe you," said Fitz, with a little laugh. "But oh, I say!"

"What's the matter now? Smell crocs?"

"No, no. I was thinking about those poor fellows in the boat. It's so horribly silent. Surely they have escaped."

Poole was silent for a few moments, and it seemed to the middy that he was breathing unusually hard.

"Is anything the matter?" whispered Fitz, at last. "Oh, don't talk like that!" came in an excited whisper.

"Then why don't you give the signal? What is it?"

"I was listening, and fancied I heard some one coming behind us. Face round, and if any one tries to rush us let 'em have it--both barrels.

Those big shot of yours may check them, and I'll hold my bullet in reserve."

Fitz made no answer, but breathed harder as he stood ready with his fingers on the triggers.

"Fancy," said Poole at last. "Now then."

"Are you going to shout?"

"No; I've got the dad's pipe," and applying the little silver whistle to his lips he made it give forth one little shrill chirrup, and then waited, while the stillness seemed to Fitz more awful than before, and his heart sank lower with the dread lest the men were dead, the boat gone, and his project completely at an end. _Chirrup_!

Another what seemed to be a painfully long pause, and then _Chirrup_!

once again.

The pause seemed even longer than before to the listeners, but the interval was short indeed before from out of the mist in front came a low hoa.r.s.e "What cheer, oh!" followed by a sneeze and a grunt. "Teals?"

cried Poole.

"Ay, ay! Two on us," came back. "Shall we pull ash.o.r.e?"

"Yes; come on."

"Right. That you, Mr Poole?"

"Yes! Look sharp!"

There was a loud rustling, apparently about a hundred yards away, followed by the sc.r.a.ping of an oar over the side of the boat, and then the sound of paddling coming nearer and nearer, till the dimly-seen forms appeared out of the mist, and the boat grated against the side of the rough pier. "How goes it, sir?" said one of the men. "All right so far," replied Poole. "But how is it with you two?"

"Offle, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"Heads so swelled up with skeeters that we can't wear our hats. We've finished the grub, and to-morrow morning we was a-going to toss whether I should eat him or him should eat I."

"No nonsense," said Poole.

"No, sir; there arn't been none," said the speaker, in a low growl.

"This 'ere's been the roughest job I was ever on. We'd have given anything to come and jine our mates so as to get a shot. Anybody lost the number of his mess?"

"No," said Poole. "No one even hurt."

"'Cept us, sir, and we've each of us got ten hundred million wounds."

"Wounds?"

"Yes, sir; skeeters. Trunks as big as elephants. They'd have sucked poor Jem here quite dry, only he did as I did, made it up with water, and there was plenty of that.--But you've come to fetch us, haven't you?"

"No; only to set you on the alert."

"On the which, sir? What ship's that?"

"Nonsense!" cried Poole. "We are all coming down to get on board the schooner as quickly as we can."

"And a blessed good thing too," growled the other man. "But you'd better stop where y'are, for this 'ere's an awful place. Anybody might have my job for me."

"Yes," said Poole, "I know it must have been terribly bad, but we are off again directly with the news that you two are all right."

"That we are which, sir?" said the first speaker. "Oh, I say, Mr Poole, sir, don't go and tell the skipper a lie like that."

"No, no; of course I'll tell him about how you have suffered; but we haven't been lying in feather-beds up there. Here, I say, Fitz, don't laugh."

"I couldn't help it," cried Fitz.

"No, sir, you couldn't," said the first man. "We couldn't at first. I laughed at Jem to see him smacking his own face all over, and he laughed at me and said mine looked beastly. And we didn't either of us look nice when the sun rose this morning, not even when we'd had a good wash.

But it's all over now, as you are coming down, and the first thing Jem and me's going to do as soon as we gets aboard the schooner is to go and hide our heads in the hold. Say, Jem, old lad, I wonder what Chips will say to you when he sees your mug!"

"Just the same as he will say to you, messmate, about yourn."

"Hush! Don't talk. Get back into hiding again, and be ready to pick up the first load as soon as they come down."

"What of, sir? Prisoners or plunder?"

"Spaniards, my lad. Come, be serious. We are in a queer fix up there, shut in by the enemy. Have you seen anything of them here?"

"Yes; about a couple of dozen ugly-looking beggars, sort of mahogany-brown, come and had a look; but they didn't see us, and went back. It was just afore that first firing began."

"That's right," cried Poole. "Back with you; but it won't be long before some one comes, and then you must drop down to the coast, signal the schooner, land your load, and come back; but keep two men to help you."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"One word; you haven't seen any of the Teals, I suppose?"

"Oh yes, sir. Old b.u.t.ters rowed up with the dinghy this evening."