Sail Ho! Part 56

"Not half so bad as it will to-morrow," said Mr Frewen, coolly. "You had a tidy fight then, you two?"

"Oh yes; don't talk about it, please, sir. He made me feel so wild after I found out that he was only shamming."

"Humph! Well, don't let Miss Denning see you. If you had been knocked about like this in a struggle with those scoundrels under the hatch you would have won her sympathy; but a lad who goes and indulges in fisticuffs till his face looks like a m.u.f.fin which has tumbled into the slop-basin, can't show himself in ladies' society till he has grown well."

"Oh, I say, Mr Frewen!" I cried.

"It's a fact," he said, laughing at my dismal face.

"But can't you put some stuff on it to make it look better?"

"No, nothing," he said coolly. "I only know of one thing that will help you out of your difficulty," he continued quietly.

"Yes," I said. "What?"

"You must wait till we have another fight with the men forward, and then if you get knocked about, all those bruises will go to the same account."

I was busily bathing my face and hands as he spoke, and then, as I began dabbing myself gently with a towel, there was an alarm from forward which suggested that, though I was getting stiffer and more sore every moment, the time had already come for the doctor's remedy to be put in force, for there was a pistol-shot followed by several more, and a loud shouting which sounded like cries for help.

It was a wonderful change from the previous night as we hurried along the deck to join our friends. The ship rode on an even keel, the night was glorious with stars, and the lanterns shone bright and clear where they were swung. There was no creeping along a few feet at a time, holding on by rope and belaying-pin, with the spray dashing over the side.

We could see the group about the hatch standing a little back, for in spite of our defences, the mutineers were making a desperate effort to escape, and were keeping up a steady fire through the top and sides to cover the work of one of their number, who was chopping away at the door to hack out the fastening.

As we reached them, Mr Brymer was ready revolver in hand, hesitating as to whether he should fire, for he was husbanding his ammunition, the supply being far from abundant.

"It's getting warm, doctor," he said as we came up. "What is to be done? I grudge wasting cartridges."

Just then Bob Hampton, who had been right aft, came trotting up.

"Who is at the wheel?" said Mr Brymer, sharply.

"Blane, sir."

"That will do. Look here, Hampton, the captain saw to the receiving of the powder and cartridges while I was busy over the other portions of the cargo, and he is too weak to be questioned. You joined the mutiny for a time."

"Never, sir, for no time," growled Bob.

"Well, you were with the men, and in their confidence."

"Not a bit on it, sir, arksing your pardon. Frenchy never trusted me a mite; only got all the work out of me that he could."

"Well, well, we will not argue little points," said Mr Brymer, impatiently, as the chopping and firing went on. "You saw a great deal of what was going on."

"Yes, sir, heaps; I kep' my eyes open."

"Well, tell me this--what about the powder and weapons? What do you know about them?"

"I'll tell you, sir," said Bob; "but, begging your pardon, hadn't you better clap a stopper on this here game?"

"How, man?"

"Answering them shots, sir."

"I would, but my cartridges are nearly all gone. How did you get these?"

"Outer the hold, sir, where they stowed 'em close alongside o' the blasting-powder. There's plenty more."

"Can you get them?"

"Oh yes, sir. You see, before the mutiny began, Jarette set some one, as I heard afterward, to smuggle all the cartridges and weapons he could out of the cabins and from the captain's locker."

"Yes, we found out that had been done. Who did they send?"

Bob Hampton chuckled.

"Why, you know, sir."

"Not Mr Walters?"

"If you was to spend all the rest o' your life, sir, making shots at it, you wouldn't never get nigher than that."

"The young scoundrel! Then you know where the cartridges are?"

"Course I do, sir: under the battened down hatches yonder. Frenchy put 'em there himself, and wouldn't let no one go nigh 'em, 'cause the fellows were always smoking. I got down to 'em at night when the storm was coming, as you know, and when you want more, there they are,--yer pistols and guns too."

"Oh, that puts quite a different complexion upon our position, Mr Denning. We can fire as much as we like," cried the mate. "But one word more, Hampton. What about the mutineers? Have they a very large supply of ammunition?"

"Well, sir, that I can't say. I know Jarette always kep' his pockets jam-full, but I don't know nothing about the others."

The chopping was still going on while this discussion took place, and shot after shot was fired, evidently in a blind fashion, as if the man who used the revolver was unable to take an aim at any one, and merely fired to keep us away from the hatch; but now all at once we were startled by a sharp jingling of gla.s.s, and the violent swinging of one of the lanterns, which had been struck by a bullet.

"That was the result of some one aiming," cried Mr Denning, sharply.

"If they don't do any more damage than that it won't matter," said Mr Preddle.

"Look here, Brymer," whispered Mr Frewen, speaking now after carefully watching the dimly-seen hatch for some minutes, "it strikes me that if you let them go on firing for a little longer they will be forced to surrender."

"For want of ammunition?" said the mate.

"No; for want of air. That ventilator will not carry off the foul gas from the firing."

"But the holes they are making will," said the mate. "If it were not so dark you would see that the smoke is curling out from several little holes."

Mr Frewen took a step forward; there was a sharp report, and he staggered back. "Flit?" cried Mr Preddle, excitedly. "Yes, but not hurt," replied Mr Frewen. "The bullet struck my collar, and it was like something giving me a violent jerk."

"Change positions every one," said Mr Brymer in a low voice. "Hampton, the lanterns. Let them both down, and put them in the galley."

Bob Hampton ran to one line by which they were hoisted up, I to the other; and as I was lowering mine down, I heard a shot, and a whizz like a bee flying over my head.