Hunting the Skipper Part 101

"Oh yes, sir, thoroughly. I'm sure he saved my life."

"Humph! Well, I want to have faith in him, but it is hard work to trust in people sometimes. Then I get thinking a great deal about that Mr Allen. I suppose he is sincere."

"Oh, I feel sure he is, sir. The thorough reverence the black Caesar has for him is sufficient to prove that his master is good to his people."

"Well, after the ill these slave-owners have done the poor creatures they owe them something in the way of recompense. Humph! How strange!

We begin talking of the black, and here he is. He wants to speak to you, seemingly. Call him up."

Caesar had come peering in at one of the doors, and as soon as Murray signed to him he hurried eagerly into the room, when the lieutenant looked at him searchingly and said--

"What about your master, my man? Where do you think he is now?"

Caesar started violently, and his lips quivered as he said huskily--

"Caesar don't know, sah. Berry much frighten."

"What, about the slavers and their schooners?"

"No, ma.s.sa. Caesar 'fraid Ma.s.sa Huggin take um and kill um."

"What for? Why should he kill one who is his master?"

"Bad man, ma.s.sa. 'Fraid Ma.s.sa Allen talk to Bri'sh cap'en and set all a black free. 'Fraid Ma.s.sa Huggin kill um."

"Not so bad as that, I hope," said the lieutenant.

"Caesar berry much 'fraid Ma.s.sa Allen no let Caesar kill Ma.s.sa Huggin."

"I should think not!" said the lieutenant; and Caesar looked at him curiously.

"Ma.s.sa Huggin bad man, sah. Caesar kill, sua. Him take away and kill um. Caesar t'ink so first time. T'ink so now."

"Where would he take them?"

"Caesar know, sah. Show Bri'sh officer where. Oder side island where slabe barracks and slabe ship come."

"You could take us there, my man?" said the lieutenant.

"Yes, ma.s.sa. Caesar show way when Bri'sh cap'en come wif plenty men.

Not 'nough now. All get kill. Show Bri'sh officer all um slabes. All Ma.s.sa Huggin strong men, berry strong men."

"Good. You shall, my man," said the lieutenant; "and as you say this Huggins's men are so strong we will wait for reinforcements, so as to make sure of taking them."

"Ma.s.sa try," said the black. "Try sabe Ma.s.sa Allen. Try quick."

"But what are you fidgeting about?" said Murray sharply.

"Caesar t'ink Ma.s.sa Huggin man come and fight soon."

"What makes you think that?" asked Murray.

"Caesar don't know, ma.s.sa. Caesar feel Ma.s.sa Huggin man come soon.

Look, ma.s.sa. Big Tom May come 'long."

The black turned excitedly to point in the direction of the head of the open staircase, where the big sailor had suddenly appeared.

"Rocks ahead, sir," he said, in a low gruff whisper.

"Something wrong to report, my lad?"

"Ay, ay, sir. They arn't come out yet, but three lookouts report seeing the enemy just inside the edge of the plantation, sir."

"Off with you then, Mr Murray," cried the lieutenant, "and take your old station. Use your ammunition carefully," he added, with a meaning intonation and a peculiar look which made the lad nod his head quickly.

"Keep the sharpest lookout for fire. They must not get hold of us there."

Murray hurried off with Tom May, followed by the black, and before many minutes had elapsed the expected attack had developed so rapidly, and was delivered with such energy, that but for the brave resistance, the enemy must have carried all before them. As it was the little party of defenders met them with so fierce a fire that the savage-looking mongrel crew were sent staggering back, followed by the triumphant cheers of the _Seafowls_, who were still cheering when Mr Anderson made a gesture and called for silence.

"Up on to the head of the staircase, my lads," he cried. "We must make our stand there."

"Beg pardon, sir," growled Tom May, with the look of an angry lion, "but will you have some cartridges sarved out, for me and my messmates have fired our last."

"Yes, my lads," said the lieutenant, "that is a bitter fact. We have fired our last shots, and we must fall back now upon our cutla.s.ses."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the big fellow coolly. "D'yer hear, my lads?

Cutlashes it is."

And at that crucial moment, as Murray ran his eyes along the faces of the men, there was no sign of dismay--just the cheery, contented look of Seaman Jack Tar ready for the worst, and the deep threatening tones of the beaten-back enemy were pretty well deadened by a hearty cheer.

But an hour later, the enemy were back in stronger force, to be driven off once more, but at a terrible expenditure of force, for as Murray and Tom May came back from the sheltered room where they had laid their gallant leader, badly wounded, by the side of Roberts, it was to find the members of their sadly diminished force sitting wearily together discussing another loss which Harry Lang unwillingly communicated to the young officer.

"But have you looked round well? Perhaps he's lying somewhere among the trees."

"Oh yes, sir, we've looked, and he arn't there. We've been talking it over, sir, and we all think the same: he's had enough of it, sir, and gone."

"Who has?" said Tom May gruffly.

"That there n.i.g.g.e.r, Caesar, Tom."

"Dunnot believe it," said Tom May fiercely, for he was very sore.

"Well, messmate," said Harry Lang, "he arn't here."

CHAPTER FIFTY.

CAESAR FINDS THE KEY.

It was at the end of a desperate struggle, during which the brave little party of sailors had again and again driven their a.s.sailants back and repaired the defences of the two windows they held by dragging fresh pieces of furniture to their breastwork from other rooms, and they had now thrown themselves down, panting and exhausted, so as to recover what strength they could before another attack was made.