Fitz the Filibuster Part 78

"Yes, you're right, Chips," said Poole, laughing. "We've seen rather too much of her as it is. But you are a bit wrong. I dare say we shall see her again. Don Ramon will be for trying to get her off the rocks when he hears how she lies. Why, Chips, that's in your way. What a job it would be for you!"

"Job for me, sir?" said the man, staring.

"Yes. That gunboat and her fittings must have cost a tremendous sum of money. It would be the making of you if you could get her off."

The carpenter stared, and then gave his thigh a slap which sounded like the crack of a revolver.

"Yuss!" he cried. "I never thought of that. My word, shouldn't I like the job!"

"Think you could do it, Chips?" cried Fitz.

"I'd try, sir. Only let 'em give me the job. But the skipper wouldn't let me go."

"Well, you don't want to go, Winks," said Poole.

"That's a true word, sir. I don't want to go. The _Teal's_ good enough for me. But I should like to have the getting of that gunboat off all the same. Let's see; that there Don Ramon wants it, doesn't he?"

"Yes," cried Poole.

"I say, look out!" cried Fitz. "Here's Chips's dissolving view dissolving away."

The declaration was quite true, for the gunboat was slowly disappearing, as the _Teal_ sailed on, to reach Velova Bay without further adventure or mishap.

All seemed well as they sighted the port, and Don Ramon's flag was fluttering out jauntily; but to the astonishment of all on board, as they drew nearer the fort there was a white puff of smoke, and then another and another.

The British colours were run up, but the firing went on, and the skipper grew uneasy.

"Villarayo must have captured the place," he said, as he looked through his double gla.s.s.

"Here, I don't see any shot striking up the water, father," cried Poole.

"No; I tell you what it is," cried Fitz. "They are glad to see us back.

They are firing a salute."

Fitz was right, and before long a barge was coming off, with the national colours trailing behind, Don Ramon being made out seated in the stern-sheets in uniform, and surrounded by his officers. He looked ceremonious and grand enough in his State barge, but there was no ceremony in his acts. He sprang up the side as soon as the c.o.xswain hooked on, and embraced the skipper with the tears in his eyes, the two lads having to suffer the same greeting in turn, so as not to hurt the feelings of one whose warmth was very genuine.

"Oh, my friend the captain," he cried, "I have been wasting tears on your behalf. You did not _come_ back, and the news was brought by three different fishing-boats that the enemy had driven you ash.o.r.e and wrecked and burned your beautiful schooner, while there had been a desperate fight, they said, and they had heard the firing, so that I could only guess what must have been the result. I believed my brave true friend and all on board had been slain, while now I have you all safely back again, and my heart is very glad."

"And so am I, Don Ramon," said the skipper warmly, for he felt how genuine the greeting was. "But things are much better than you thought."

"Yes, better far," cried the Don. "But make haste. Let us get ash.o.r.e.

My people are getting up a banquet in your honour and that of every _one_ on board."

"Oh, I'm not a banqueting man," said the skipper, laughing.

"Ha, ha! We shall see," said the Don, laughing in his turn. "How came they, though, to tell me such false news? I believed the men who brought it could be trusted."

"Well, I dare say they can be," said the skipper. "But they didn't stay long enough. We had almost to run ash.o.r.e, and there were two or three fights; that was true enough. But if they had stayed long enough they could have brought you the best news that you have had for months."

"Best news!" cried the Don excitedly.

"Yes; the gunboat, with her big breech-loader and propeller disabled, is fast upon the rocks."

"Captain Reed!" cried the Don, seizing him by both hands. "Is this true?"

"As true as that I am telling you."

"But the captain and his men?"

"They're standing by her. But they will never get her off."

"Oh!" shouted Fitz, giving a sudden jump and turning sharply round, to see the carpenter backing away confused and shamefaced, for he had been listening eagerly to the conversation, and at the critical point alluding to the gunboat being got off, he had in his excitement given Fitz a vigorous pinch.

"Here, what are you thinking of doing?" said the skipper.

"Doing?" said the Don excitedly. "There will be no banquet to-night. I must gather together my men, and make for the gunboat at once."

"What for?" cried the skipper.

"To strike the last blow for victory," cried the Don. "We must surround and take the gunboat's crew, and then at any cost that gunboat must be floated. I don't quite see yet how it is to be done, but the attempt must be made before there is another gale. That gunboat must be saved.

No," he continued thoughtfully, "I don't see yet how it can be done."

"I do, sir," cried Winks, dashing forward. "I'll take the job, sir, and do it cheap. Say a word for me, skipper. You know me. It's fust come fust served at times like this. Say a word for me, sir, afore some other lubber steps in and gets the job as won't do it half so well. Mr Burnett, sir--Mr Poole, you will put a word in too, won't you?"

"I do not want any words put in," said the new President gravely. "I know you, my man, and what you can do. I know you too as one of the friends who have fought for me so bravely and so well. You shall get the gunboat off the rocks."

In his excitement Chips did the first steps of the sailor's hornpipe, but suddenly awakening to a sense of his great responsibility, he pulled himself up short with a sharp stamp upon the deck, thrust his right fore-finger into his cheek, and brought it out again _plop_.

"Stand by there, sir! Steady it is. I like things right and square. I never did a job like this afore; but you trust me, and I'll do my best."

"I do trust you," said Don Ramon, smiling and holding out his hand, "and I know such a British seaman as you will do his best."

The carpenter flushed like a girl and raised his hand to grasp the President's, but s.n.a.t.c.hed his own back again to give it three or four rubs up and down, back and front, upon the leg of his trousers, like a barber's finishing-touch to a razor, and then gave the much smaller Spanish hand such a grip as brought tears not of emotion but of pain into the President's eyes.

"Now then, for the sh.o.r.e!" cried the Don. "But, Captain Reed, my friend, I am never satisfied. You will help me once again?"

"You know," replied the skipper, "as far as I can."

"Oh, you will not refuse this," said the President, laughingly. "It is only to transport as many of my people as the schooner will bear. I shall have to trust to fishing-boats and the two small trading vessels that are in the port to bear the rest, I must take a strong force, and make many prisoners, for not one of the gunboat's crew must escape."

"Oh, you won't have much trouble with that," said the skipper. "Once you have the full upper hand--"

"I have it now," said the Spaniard haughtily.

"Then they will all come over to your side."

"You will come with me ash.o.r.e?" said the Don.