Stan Lynn Part 44

"No, no--not yet!" cried Stan authoritatively. "Be ready."

A grunting murmur of satisfaction followed him as he hurried back towards the broad stairs, at the foot of which the big carpenters and their two a.s.sistants stood, knife-armed like the rest, and having a great moving crowbar resting with one end upon the floor.

Stan was about to spring up the stairs with the intention of sending one of the clerks to the office to report upon his chief's state, when he heard a shrill cry, and turning sharply, he became aware that Wing, in spite of his injuries, was up and dressed, and limping painfully in his efforts to overtake him.

"Ah, Wing!" he cried. "Up? You ought to be lying down out of danger."

"Wing not lil bit 'flaid," said the man quickly. "Wing look see if young Lynn allee light, quite well, casee you wantee know allee 'bout Misteh Blunt."

"Yes, yes; I was going to send. I can't come yet," cried Stan eagerly.

"Wing t'ink muchee jus' come tell young Lynn Misteh Blunt lie on back.

Tablee. Close Wing. Wing see what matteh."

"Yes, yes. Is he very bad?" cried Stan.

"Dleadful bad," said the man solemnly. "Gottee big hole light floo heah."

The position he denominated "heah" was pointed out by the Chinaman with his two thumbs, one placed on his shoulder-blade, the other on the upper part of his right chest.

"Oh! that must be dangerous," cried Stan wildly.

"Yes, velly bad," said Wing, frowning and shaking his head. "Wing findee bullet lead inside py-yama."

"And you have tried to bind it up?"

Wing nodded importantly.

"Bad place," he said. "Wind come out flont, blood lun out behind."

"There must be a big bandage put over the place. Go and tear up a sheet."

"No," said Wing, still more importantly. "Gettee clean tablee-cloff-- cuttee long piecee."

"You have done that?"

"Yes," said Wing, rather pompously now, as if exceedingly proud of his knowledge. "Wing know allee 'bout it. Mend bloken leg oncee. Big tub fallee flom clane when wind um up. Fall on coolie leg. Poo' Chinaman.

Wing mend leg. Misteh Blunt got hole floo heah,"--the thumbs ill.u.s.trating again--"Wing get softee cotton, pushee piecee in flont hole, 'top wind come out; pokee piecee in back, keepee blood in. Allee blood lun out, Masteh Blunt die velly fast."

"But have you bandaged the place well?"

"Bandage? Yes; tie velly long piece tablee-cloff lound and lound and oveh shouldeh. 'Top wind, 'top blood. Get well now."

"Go and stop with him, Wing," cried Stan excitedly. "I can't come."

"Wing know. Got tellee men how to fight."

"Yes. Stop with Mr Blunt. You're a splendid fellow, Wing," cried Stan excitedly.

"Young Lynn glad Wing 'top place?"

"Yes, I tell you. Capital! Off with you back."

"Yes, Wing go back. T'ink young Lynn like know."

Stan only heard a part of this, for the firing was going on furiously, the enemy were battering at the doors, and just then there was a crash and a heavy report.

"They've begun to use the guns again," panted the lad as he sprang up the broad warehouse stairs two at a time, to see half-way down the great store one of the windows wrecked as to its defences, bales and boards lying some feet in, the former tumbled over and the latter in splinters, while the two defenders who had been stationed there lay upon the floor.

"They've got one of the biggest guns to bear on the window," said one of the defenders of the next window excitedly.

Stan nodded and ran to the weakened place, to go down on one knee and look out.

He was not cautious enough, for he was seen from the deck of one of the junks and saluted by a yell, followed directly after by the discharge of some half-dozen _jingals_, whose ill-directed bullets whistled by his ears.

"Take care!" shouted three or four voices.

"I should think I will," muttered Stan, dropping on his face, his rifle striking the floor with a bang. Then quickly drawing back, he got behind one of the bales that had been driven in, rested his rifle upon it, and raising his head cautiously, prepared to fire.

For at his first look out he had seen all he wanted, and following almost directly upon the sharp clicking of his rifle-lock, the man nearest to him heard the lad draw a deep breath and fire.

Stan's fresh companion peered from his side to see the object of the lad's shot, and he uttered a loud "Bravo!" for Stan had continued his former luck, as, seeing that the gun on board the biggest junk was being reloaded, and that the firing-match was just about to be applied, he steadied himself, took the long breath the young clerk had heard, and then drew trigger, with the result that there was no heavy report and crash of another of the defences.

Another attempt was made to fire the gun, but a second man went down. A third fared no better, and amidst cheers from the different windows, joined in by the two injured men, who were stunned by the woodwork driven in upon them but not seriously hurt, one of the officers of the junk was to be seen raging about giving orders, which produced a ragged volley from the clumsy Chinese firelocks, bullets and pieces of iron hurtling through the window; but no more harm was done, except to the officer, who fell pierced by a shot from farther along the great goods floor.

While the party who had landed, quite seventy strong, were raging and tearing round the building, battering at door and barricaded window, and every now and then making a vain thrust with their spears at the firing party quite beyond their reach at the upper windows, and frequently getting a bullet in return which laid a desperate aggressor low, some of the more cautious sheltered themselves on the outside of the wall of bales and chests to begin firing up at the defenders. But with no advantage to themselves, for while crouching down behind the wall they could only bring their heavy, clumsy matchlocks to bear at such an angle that the charge went up high above the defenders' heads. And whenever a man who had grown furious from several disappointments rose up to get a better aim, he went down to a certainty, riddled by a bullet sent home by one or other of the watchful clerks.

And all the while effort after effort was made by the leaders of the pirates to bring the swivel-guns of their junks to bear, but without avail; for, with a strong desire to emulate the success of Stan's shots, quite half-a-dozen of the clerks and warehous.e.m.e.n who commanded the dangerous spots waited patiently and watchfully with presented piece and finger on trigger for the opportunities that were not long in coming.

Man after man of those working the guns was shot down, till, in spite of yells and blows from their leaders, not a single pirate could be induced to carry out the dangerous task of loading, laying, or firing the heavy swivel-guns.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

"FIERY MISSILES."

The desperate fight had been going on for quite an hour from the time of the landing of the attacking party, and the men who had gained an entrance into the first defence had grown exhausted by the vain efforts they had made to break a way through, and contented themselves, such as could, with getting back outside to the shelter of the walls and, crouched there, watching their companions' fire, while turning a deaf ear, and then sullen looks, towards their leaders on the junks, who kept on furiously yelling to them to go on.

They did not seem inclined to risk it, but scowled at those who ordered the attack, and waited. After a short consultation among the junk captains--a consultation carried on by shouts and yells from vessel to vessel, delivered through hands held trumpet fashion to the lips--it became evident to Stan and his little garrison that an attack was to be made upon a larger scale. For the crews of the junks manned the sweeps, and while those close in strove to lay their craft alongside the wharf above and below the spot where their three junks were grappled together, the other two began to creep up insh.o.r.e as if to land their men where they could get right round to the back of the great _hong_ and the outbuildings; while, to add to the peril, one of the men on the far side of the roof-ridge--a point of vantage from which several successful shots had been sent into the vessels--shouted the bad news that the first junk, which had been carried down the river till she had disappeared round a bend, was coming up again full sail, evidently to rejoin the others.

"It looks very bad now, Mr Lynn," said Lawrence, the foreman, who had distinguished himself by the way in which he had maintained his coolness. "They're going to make a grand attack now in force."

"Yes," replied Stan quietly, "it does look very bad. They're too many for us."

"But you won't give in?" cried another anxiously. Before Stan could reply another broke out with: "They don't want to kill us; only to plunder the hong. Why not take advantage of this lull and quietly get out on the other side, so as to get right away from the river? I don't believe that they would pursue us."

"Then you have a great deal more faith in the Chinese character than I have," said the first speaker, "I believe that as soon as they saw our confession of weakness--"

"We should make no confession of weakness," retorted another. "We should only retire."