Fitz the Filibuster Part 49

"Everything was going right, father. I had a few words with b.u.t.ters, and he was very eager to know how soon I could get you all down."

"And you couldn't tell him?"

"No, father.--I think that's all."

"Bravo! Magnificent!" cried Don Ramon. "You have both done wonders,"

and to the lads' disgust he caught them in turn to his breast and kissed them. "It is grand, and your fathers should be proud. My lads, it is the grandest thing in life to be a Spaniard of pure Castilian descent, but next to that the greatest thing in the world is to be an English boy."

"This is no time for compliments, Don Ramon," said the skipper sternly.

"They have done their duty; that is all. Now then, will you lead on at once with half our party, and I with the rest will form the rear-guard.

If even now the enemy come up we shall be able to hold them in check.

We shall fire, and then double past you and your party, who will halt and fire, and then retire past us again. We are very few and they are many, but I think we can reach the boat in safety after all."

The Don made no reply, but put himself at the head of his little party at once, leaving the skipper, the two lads, and the remainder facing the enemy's camp and watching the flickering fires between, the hardest task of all when the way was open and they felt that with a good rush they might reach the boat in safety.

But discipline was master, and fighting down all desire to break away, the remnant of the little force stood waiting, while the carpenter made a last effort to find himself something to do, by suggesting that it would be best perhaps to give them there fires just another touch.

"No," said the skipper sternly. "In another two minutes we shall follow on."

"Thank goodness!" whispered Fitz excitedly. "I don't feel as if I could stand any more."

"Not even one of Don Ramon's speeches and a hug?"

"Oh, don't talk about it," whispered Fitz angrily.

"What! Isn't it grand to be an English boy?"

"Bosh!" cried Fitz, and like an echo of his e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n came the skipper's command--

"Forward!" And directly afterwards, "Poole--Mr Burnett--will you watch with me?"

The lads stepped to his side at once.

"The last to turn our backs, Fitz Burnett," whispered Poole. "The place of honour after all."

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

ABOARD AGAIN.

The little party strained their ears as they tramped silently on towards the boat; but not a sound was heard suggesting that the enemy grasped the fact that the strategy had been cleverly carried out. The dull reflection of the fires had from time to time been faintly discernible upon the low-hanging mist; but this soon died out, and fortune seemed to be smiling kindly upon their efforts now.

"I'd give something to know what time it is," whispered Poole, and he took a step nearer to his father to ask him how long he thought it would be before day.

"I haven't the least idea, my boy," he replied. "The night has seemed far too short, but it must be nearly at an end. But if we can once get into the boat and reach the schooner I shall begin to hope that we may reach Velova before the enemy."

"We have got much farther to go than they have, though, father."

"Yes, and everything will depend upon how long it is before the reinforcements come and they make their advance. It may be hours yet, and it may be before the break of day. There, don't talk to me again, my lad; I want to think."

So it was in silence and darkness that the corduroy road was traversed, and the rear-guard reached the little wharf to find the advance gathered-together, waiting to fire or descend at once into the boat.

There was not a sound to be heard from the direction by which they had come, and the skipper giving the order to embark at once, the men stepped down carefully and well, till, dangerously packed, the order was given to push off, Poole and Fitz being together in the stern, where the skipper pa.s.sed out an oar to steer, and they began rapidly to descend the flooded stream.

"There must have been rain in the mountains," he said quietly, and then aloud, "Sit fast, my lads, and keep her well in trim. Two oars out there, just to give me steering way, but you need hardly pull.

Everything depends upon your keeping steady. There, boys," he said, to those at his side, "we are none too soon. It's lightening yonder in the east."

That morning the sun, as it rose high above the mist, shone down upon the crowded decks of the schooner, her white sails glistening as the land was left behind, with Poole and Fitz Burnett using the gla.s.s in turn to watch the mouth of the little river; but they watched in vain, for there was no sign of enemy hurrying to the bank, nothing to disturb the peace and beauty of the scene.

Poole scuffled up to the masthead, gla.s.s in hand, and Fitz Burnett followed him, to stand as near as he could, with the ratlines cutting into his feet and a crick coming in the back of his neck, as he held on tightly, and leaned back watching his companion's action, longing to get hold of the gla.s.s and use it himself. In fact, he was suffering from that impatience which often attacks us all and makes us feel as we watch another's action how much better we could do it ourselves, from the greatest matter down to such a trifle us untying a knot in a piece of string. Meanwhile, with the white sails swelling out above and below, and the double gla.s.s to his eye, the skipper's son was slowly sweeping the coast-line, letting nothing escape him, as he looked in vain for some sign of the enemy.

"See her, my boy?" came from the deck, and Fitz looked down, to see that the skipper and Don Ramon were watching them.

"No, father," cried Poole. "I wasn't looking out to sea."

"Then why don't you?" cried the skipper angrily. "Are you trying to see cocoanuts on the trees? Sweep the horizon, sir, and give us the first notice of that gunboat's masts."

"All right, father," said the lad quietly, and he wrenched himself round and made the lenses of the binocular slowly travel along the horizon-line, as he rocked gently here and there with the action of the schooner riding swiftly over the long smooth swell; for there was a pleasant breeze, all possible sail was set, and they were rapidly diminishing the distance between them and Velova Bay.

"See her?" said Fitz, as he noted that the skipper and his Spanish friend had walked together forward--Don Ramon's followers, who crowded the deck and sent up scores of tiny films of smoke from their cigarettes, politely making way and forming quite a lane for their leaders.

They were idling, chattering, and laughing together, the very types of a party of idlers out on a sea-trip, and their rifles were leaning against the bulwarks here and there, lying about the deck, or stuck in sheaves together with their barrels appearing above the sides of the boats swinging from the davits.

No one could have imagined from their careless indolent bearing that they were posing as patriots, men who a short time before had escaped from a deadly peril, and were now for aught they knew sailing straight away into one as great.

They formed a strong contrast to the old men-of-war's men, who retained their well-drilled bearing as the crew of the schooner, eager, alert, and ready at any moment to spring to sheet and brace at the mate's orders when they went upon another tack.

"No," replied Poole, after a long interval. "There's a shoal of fish out yonder, and something sprang out farther to the east and went in again with a splash, and there's a bad sign out yonder; cat's-paws on the surface."

"You don't mean to say that it looks like a calm coming?"

"Just like that," said Poole slowly, with the gla.s.s still at his eye.

"Well?" rose from the deck, as the two chiefs came slowly back.

"Nothing, father--not a sign," cried Poole. "Well, you needn't stop up there, my lad. Come down, and go up again in a quarter of an hour's time."

Poole slipped the gla.s.s into the case slung from his left shoulder, laid hold of a rope, and looked at his companion, who did the same, and they slid down together and dropped upon the deck, to begin walking forward.

"I shan't be sorry," said Poole quietly, "when all these fellows are ash.o.r.e."

"Nor I neither," replied Fitz, and then he turned his head sharply, for a familiar head was thrust out of the galley, where the stove was black and cold.

"Weel, laddies," whispered the Camel, "I have had to put up the shutters and shut up shop, for I canna pretend to feed all this lot; but ah'm thenking ye'll feel a bit hungry now and then, and when ye do, joost go below into the cahbin when there's naebody looking, and open the little locker. I dinna mean to say another word, but--" He closed one ferrety-looking red eye, laid a finger alongside of his nose, showed his big teeth, and drew his head in again.

"A nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse," said Poole, laughing.

"Well done, Camel! But that's all you, Fitz."