Ronald Morton, or the Fire Ships Part 29

At first Colonel Armytage received him with great coldness, naturally looking on him with contempt, as having played the dishonourable part of a spy during his visit to Calcutta; but the lieutenant explained the cause of his appearance there so much to the colonel's satisfaction, and his attentions were so unremitting and delicate, that he completely won his way into the good graces of the English officer.

Gerardo was too acute an observer not to have discovered the authority Colonel Armytage exercised over his family, and he fancied that the most certain way of winning the daughter was first to gain over the father.

By degrees also he obtained the good opinion of Mrs Armytage. He never obtruded his services, but he offered them to her in so delicate a manner, and showed so much pleasure in being employed, that it was scarcely possible for her to refuse them. All the fruits and flowers which the islands produced were collected and brought to her and her daughter, often not obtained without difficulty, while numberless objects of interest, evidently taken out of prizes, were offered for their acceptance.

Very few of the other officers came near them; indeed, they appeared generally to be of a different stamp to the captain and his first lieutenant.

"We really might be very happy here if we did not wish to be elsewhere,"

observed Mrs Armytage to her daughter.

"Yes, certainly," remarked another lady. "But what shall we do when our clothes wear out? It will be shocking not to be able to get any of the new fashions. I am afraid our polite captain and Monsieur Gerardo will not think half as much about us then."

"You don't suppose that we are to be kept here for ever!" exclaimed another lady, in a great state of agitation.

"Perhaps till the war is over--such things are done," remarked Mrs Armytage, who, having her husband and daughter with her, was more inclined to be contented with her lot than were most of the party.

With most of the captives, however, the days in that delightful climate pa.s.sed pleasantly and rapidly by. Had Ronald Morton wished Edda to be placed in a position where her thoughts would most probably be occupied with him, he could scarcely have selected one more favourable for the purpose than that in which she now found herself.

What might have been the effect of the young French lieutenant's devoted attention, it is impossible to say; but though he was present, the absent Morton ever stepped in to prevent him from making the slightest impression on her affections. The more she thought of Morton, the more vividly did she realise his n.o.ble qualities, his manly appearance; and thinking of him, she naturally taught herself to believe that, in some way or the other, she and her friends would be rescued from their present trying and anxious position. All the time they could not but feel that they were in the hands of enemies, who, though they behaved well at present, might at any moment change their conduct.

Both the French ship and the Indiaman had suffered considerably in the action; and since their arrival they had been undergoing repairs. These were now completed. The privateer's men were also refreshed, and eager to go in search of fresh spoil.

With heavy hearts the late officers and pa.s.sengers of the "Osterley" saw her under all sail, standing out of the bay. It appeared as if their home--the only means of escaping from their bondage--was leaving them.

Many gave way to tears at the sight, and few looked on unmoved. Two days afterwards the corvette herself put to sea, both her captain and first lieutenant going in her. A small garrison was left in each of the forts, and the seamen remained in prison on board the dismasted prize, under a strong guard. As there were only a few small canoes on the beach, used for fishing, and none of the prisoners had arms of any description, there was very little chance of their attacking the garrison, or attempting to make their escape. An old French military officer, who acted as governor, was a very strict disciplinarian, and was continually going from fort to fort and inspecting his troops, so that neither he nor they were likely to be caught asleep. Indeed, it appeared that nothing was likely to occur to disturb the perfect tranquillity of the island.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE "THISBE" APPROACHES THE ISLAND--OLD DOULL'S REVELATIONS AS TO THE "OSTERLEY'S" Pa.s.sENGERS--THE FRIGATE PUT UNDER FRENCH COLOURS-- EXPEDITION IN THE BOATS--ATTACK ON THE FORTS--"OSTERLEY'S" Pa.s.sENGERS CARRIED OFF.

To return again to the "Thisbe" and rescued "Osterley." The frigate and Indiaman were once more hove-to, at a short distance from each other.

In the far distance appeared a group of islands like blue hillocks rising out of the shining ocean. Volunteers from the frigate eagerly crowded on board the "Osterley," armed to the teeth. Morton had gained sufficient information from the old man to enable him to form a plan for rescuing the prisoners, should they be, as he trusted, still on the island. He had had frequent conversations with the elder Doull. One day the old man again referred to the abduction transaction in which he had been engaged in his youth. The similarity of the account to that Morton had heard of his father's history, struck him.

"Where was it? from what part of the coast did you take the child?" he asked, eagerly.

"Did I not say from Shetland?" replied the old man. "And what is strange, Lieutenant Morton, the boy's name was the same as yours; but maybe you know nothing of Shetland; it's a fine land anyhow, and you are too young to be the child I was speaking of."

"You are mistaken in one point, Mr Doull," said Morton. "I belong to Shetland; I was born and bred there; and I feel almost sure that the boy you carried off was my father. He was picked up at sea by a Captain Scarsdale, who brought him up as his son."

"Scarsdale!--now you speak it, that's the name of the master of the vessel who took us off the raft, and from whose ship we ran. For many a long year I have not thought of it. Yes, Andrew Scarsdale; and the boy was called Rolf Morton--the names come back to me as if I heard them but yesterday. There are not many other names I can remember which I knew at that time."

"But do you believe that that was the real name of the child?" asked Morton, for he had heard his father express his belief that the name he bore was not his true one.

"That I do not know," answered old Doull. "If it was not, the only one of us who knew the truth was our leader--the man who led us to commit the crime--that villain, Rolf Yell. It's many a year since I have spoken his name. Now I remember, he gave me a paper to Captain Scarsdale, and put his name to it, and we saw him do it; and we--that is, Archy Eagleshay and I did; and the captain put his name, and we put ours after that, though we didn't read the paper, but the captain said that it was all right, and that it was what he wanted, and he took it below; and so I supposed that it would make everything square for the poor boy."

This circ.u.mstantial account agreed so exactly with that which Captain Scarsdale had given his father, that Ronald had no doubt that he had found a clue which might lead to the solution of the mystery hanging over his early history.

What had become of the important doc.u.ment? Why had not Captain Scarsdale produced it? Yell, at all events, knew his father's real name, and he must have communicated it to Captain Scarsdale. He longed to meet his father, that he might give him the information he had received, and consult with him as to what steps it would be best for them to pursue.

Formerly he perhaps would have been very indifferent as to the result; now he could not help feeling that if it could be proved that he was of gentle blood, it might enable him the better to succeed in realising the bright visions in which he had of late been indulging. There might be a thousand obstacles in his path, but he felt that he could clear them all away by courage and perseverance, as he would a host of enemies with the strokes of his cutla.s.s.

Such were the feelings with which Ronald Morton prepared for the attempt to rescue the pa.s.sengers and crew of the "Osterley" from the hands of the Frenchmen. Old Doull had warned him of the difficulties to be encountered. He had described the dangers of the approach to the bay, the strength of the forts, and the number of the garrison. This of course only increased the anxiety of Morton and his followers to commence the work in hand.

While Morton was still forming his plan, old Doull, hat in hand, came aft.

"Captain Morton," he said, "my son Bob has been telling me how you have been kind to him, and stood by him ever since he came to sea, and I want to show you that my old heart, though it's pretty well scorched and dried up with the hard life I've led, can still feel thankful for favours done. At first I couldn't make Bob believe that I was his father, and no wonder, for an unnatural one I had been to him all his life; but I told him so many things about when he was a baby that he knows it now, and has taken to call me father, and that warms my heart and gives it such a pleasure I can't describe. After having had no one to care for me for better than twenty years, except old Archy Eagleshay--and I couldn't trust him over-much, 'specially if a cask of rum was in his way--it is a happiness to be called father--that it is, sir. I hope as how some day you will feel it. Well, sir, as I was saying, I was turning in my mind how I might serve you best. Now, I've been thinking that if we were to sail in with the ships, and attempt to take the forts by force, though we might and should succeed in the end, we might hurt some of the English people on sh.o.r.e, and that's what you wouldn't wish to do."

"No, indeed," said Ronald, shuddering. "That I would not, of course.

But what do you propose?"

Ronald had discovered the uselessness of attempting to hurry the old man, so he waited patiently for his reply.

"Why, sir, I think if the ship was to run in just before dark under the French flag, the people on sh.o.r.e would fancy that she had been brought back for some reason or other, and very likely wouldn't board her that night. When it is dark I will go on sh.o.r.e and find my way to the huts of the prisoners. I will tell them that you have arrived to bring them off, and I think that I could manage to conduct them down by a path to the sh.o.r.e, so that the French sentries shall not see them. In that way, sir, they may be got on board without danger."

Morton was not satisfied with the whole of Doull's plan.

"You forget the risk the prisoners would run of being fired on by the French sentries, if found escaping; while, before the ship could leave the bay, the forts would open fire on her, and very probably injure some of them. However, I will think over your proposal, and I thank you for your anxiety to serve me."

Morton would rather have run in with both ships, reduced the forts, and carried off the prisoners in triumph, but caution as well as boldness, he knew well, were necessary to insure success. Captain Calder highly approved of the plan he ultimately laid before him.

All was ready on board the "Osterley." The boats were hoisted in; and while she ran on towards the land the frigate hauled her wind and stood off again.

The Indiaman rapidly approached the land. As she drew in with it the French ensign was hoisted at the peak. Job Truefitt looked up at it.

"It's the first time that I minds that I ever sailed under that buntin', and I would be sorry to see it often hoisted over my head," he observed to the elder Doull, pointing at it with his thumb half over his shoulder, and a contemptuous sneer on his lips. "I never loved them mounseers, and hopes I never may. They are to my mind the nat'ral born enemies, so to speak, of Englishmen, and it's my belief that they'll remain the same to the end of the world."

Doull was now summoned aft to pilot the ship among the reefs which surrounded the group of islands she was approaching. The wind had been faithful, and Morton managed so well that it was close upon sunset before the "Osterley" got inside the reefs. It would have been anxious work to carry a ship, in the uncertain light which still remained, among those numerous rocks and shoals, even with a friendly port in which to drop her anchor. Ronald, with the old man by his side, stood conning the ship, while two seamen with sharp eyes were placed at the end of the jib-boom, and others at the fore yardarms, to give notice of any danger they might discover.

"There'll be no use keeping the lead going, sir," said Old Doull. "You may get a cast of twenty fathom, and the next moment have the ship's bows hard and fast."

Ronald knew that this was the case, nor did it decrease his anxiety.

Steady hands were at the helm. The seamen were at their stations to trim or shorten sail. The Indiaman glided onward. She was already inside the reefs, and the heaving motion of the ocean was no longer felt. Hills clothed with verdure rose close before them, the sh.o.r.e on either side, fringed with cocoa-nut trees, seen here and there over the yellow beach rising against the deep blue sky. The forts, too, could be made out, though thrown into shade in the centre of the landscape, as the ship, boldly guided by the old seaman to a berth, dropped her anchor. The carpenter had been busily employed all day in constructing a canoe. It was forthwith lowered noiselessly into the water, and Doull and his son stepping into it, paddled away to the sh.o.r.e, keeping, however, as far off as possible from the forts.

"That man can be trusted," observed Ronald to Glover, though the words implied a doubt of the fact.

"At all events we must trust him, sir," answered the midshipman; "that is very clear."

After waiting for some time, and no one appearing from the sh.o.r.e, the boats were lowered without noise into the water, and at once manned. By this time the dim outline of the sh.o.r.es of the bay could alone be seen.

Morton took command of one, Glover of another, and the boatswain of the frigate of a third. Sims remained on board in charge of the ship. The Indiaman's boats followed with a midshipman in each, so that there were six altogether.

There were three forts, and it was arranged that two boats' crews should simultaneously attack each of them. The oars were m.u.f.fled, and away the flotilla glided from the side of the big ship, as Glover observed to the midshipman with him, like a brood of new-born serpents sallying from their parents' side intent on mischief. Not a sound was heard on sh.o.r.e, not a sound either did the boats make as they glided over the smooth surface of the bay. Morton's mind misgave him. It seemed strange that no people from the sh.o.r.e had come off to the ship.

"Surely they must have seen her even through the gloom," he said to himself. "Can the Frenchman have left the place, and carried off the prisoners?"

The question was soon to be solved, but his impatience would scarcely brook the necessary delay. He had ascertained from Doull the direction of the huts where the English prisoners were located. Doull had also described the best landing-places under the forts. The boats, in three divisions, proceeded on their separate courses. The centre fort was the strongest. Ronald selected that for himself. His heart beat quick as he approached it. Who when going into action does not discover that his pulse beats more rapidly, even under ordinary circ.u.mstances? Ronald felt that the safety of one now dearer to him than life was involved in the success of his undertaking.

As the boats drew closer to the sh.o.r.e it was necessary to proceed more carefully, for fear of running on the rocks, which jutted out in certain parts of the bay. Though the surface of the bay was smooth, there was a slight surf on the sh.o.r.e, the noise of which, as it broke, tended to overpower any sound which the oars made as they dipped into the water.