Syd Belton Part 51

"Got it up, and it slipped and fell," thought Syd, as he lowered himself down and made his way to Roylance, whom he touched on the back.

"What's the mat--"

He did not finish, for as the midshipman turned Syd caught sight of the gun and ropes, with some handspikes which had evidently been used as levers.

All that was at a glance. Then he pushed his way forward to sink down on one knee beside the lieutenant, who was lying on his back, his face haggard and ghastly, his teeth set and his eyes closed, while the great drops of agony were gathering on his brow.

He saw no more, for a piece of sail was thrown over his legs.

"Mr Dallas," he cried, "what is it? Are you ill?" A low murmur ran round the little group, and at that moment the boatswain appeared with a pannikin of water from one of the tubs.

As the lieutenant heard the lad's voice, he opened his eyes, looked round wildly, and then his gaze rested on Syd's anxious face.

"Ah, Belton," he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "bad job. The gear gave way--confounded gun--fell--crushed my legs. Ah!"

He uttered a groan full of anguish and fainted away.

"It's horrible!" cried Roylance, as every one looked on helplessly. "No surgeon; the gale increasing, and the ship out of sight. Here, some one get some brandy or rum. Ah, Belton!" he whispered, with the tears in his eyes, "such a good fellow, and I'm afraid it's all over."

Syd heard this as if in a dream, as a deathly feeling of sickness came over him, and there floated before his eyes a scene in a grand old beech-wood near home, with a group of men standing round, helplessly as these were, the sun shining down like a silver shower through the branches, beneath which was a doctor's gig and a man in a smock frock holding the horse's head. There on the moss, where scattered white chips shone out clearly, lay a fine, well-built young man close by the trunk of a tree which he had been helping to fell, but had not got out of the way soon enough, and the trunk had crushed his legs.

The scene died away, and he was gazing down again at the unfortunate lieutenant instead of at the woodman, with the doctor on his knee and a boy by his side; and as the deathly sickness pa.s.sed off he was brought more to himself by hearing the haughty domineering voice of Terry.

"Stand away, some of you--all of you!" he cried. "Mr Belton, do you hear me? Go away, sir; you are keeping the air from the wounded man."

Accustomed to obey, fresh ash.o.r.e from the ship where the discipline was of the strictest, Syd drew back; but as he did so a hysterical sob burst from his throat, and he stepped forward again.

"Confound you, sir! do you hear me?" cried Terry. "I am in command now.

Stand back, or I'll put you under arrest."

As he advanced threateningly, Roylance touched Syd's sleeve.

"Don't make a row now, for poor Dallas's sake. Look! He's dying."

Syd looked at him quickly, and then turned back to face Terry, as he said in a dreamy way--"Is there no help?"

"Will you stand back, sir?"

"No doctor? No one who understands--"

"Here, bo'sun--Strake; seize Mr Belton, and take him away."

No one stirred, but a murmur ran round the group as with a bitter cry of agony Syd stepped forward so quickly that Terry drew back, expecting a blow. But the lad did not even see him, and he was in the act of sinking on his knees to take the lieutenant's hand, when his eyes rested on the piece of sail-cloth thrown tightly over the injured man's legs, where a ruddy patch of blood was slowly spreading.

"He's bleeding to death," he cried excitedly; and a change seemed to come over the boy, as he bent down and quickly drew away the sail-cloth.

"This is too much," cried Terry. "You meddling young fool!"

Syd flushed for a moment into anger. "Roylance! Strake!" he cried, "take that idiot away." As he turned from the astounded middy, he threw off his jacket, gave one glance at Dallas, whose eyes were fixed upon him in a wild despairing way; and then knife in hand he was down upon his knees.

"Here, Barney," he said, in cool firm tones, as recollections of what he had seen in the wood at home played once more through his brain; "down on your knees there by his head, and bathe his face with the cold water.

Keep back on the windward side," he continued. "Mr Roylance, let four men hold a sail over us to keep off the sun."

His orders were so full of the force which makes men obey, that they were acted upon at once; and all the time Syd was on his knees busy.

Without a moment's hesitation he had inserted his sharp knife at the left knee-band, and slit up the garment right to the groin, laying bare a ghastly wound that seemed to go right to the bone, and from which the blood came in one spot with a regular throb, throb, which Syd knew meant death before long if it was not stopped.

"Water, here!" he shouted.

"I must protest against this boy's meddling," cried Terry. "Mr Belton, let him die in peace."

"Mr Roylance--" came in faint tones from the white lips of the wounded man, "take--Mr Terry--"

He fainted as he spoke, but it was enough. At a word from the midshipman two of the sailors secured Terry by the wrists, and he was forced away, while two other men ran for a bucket of water.

"Leave his head now, Barney," cried Syd, in a quick, decided voice.

"Your neckerchief, man. Quick, roll it up."

This was handed to the young operator, who pa.s.sed it under Dallas's limb far up, tied it round in a knot, called for a jack-knife, and then shouted to the willing man who handed it to shut it up. This done he pa.s.sed the knife inside the neckerchief, pressed it down on the inner part of the thigh, and then took his sheathed dirk from his belt.

This he also pa.s.sed under the neckerchief, and began to twist round a few turns, drawing the bandage tightly down on the knife-handle, which, as he still twisted, was forced firmly home, pressing the artery against the bone.

This done, and the dirk secured so that it could not twist back, Syd turned to the gaping wound, from which the blood still welled, but sluggishly. The water was ready, and scooping some on to the wound, it was more plainly revealed as a great clean-cut gash, extending many inches.

Syd's fingers were soon busily employed searching for and finding the ruptured artery, and in spite of the horrible nature of the gash, he uttered a sigh of satisfaction as he discovered it and pressed it between his finger and thumb.

"Now one of you--no, you, Strake," he cried, "off with my handkerchief, and tear it across so as to get me a couple of strips, which roll up fine as twine."

This was done, but the pieces were rejected as too thick.

Two more were prepared and laid ready.

"Now," he said, "a little more water here, over my hands."

He was obeyed, and with deft fingers, taught by Doctor Liss, he rapidly tied the artery, and the main flow of blood was stopped amid a low murmur of satisfaction, the patient, who had revived, lying perfectly motionless with his eyes fixed upon his surgeon.

And now for a few moments the lad paused, with his brow wrinkled up, thinking.

He wanted silk and a large needle, and the latter was unattainable.

"Has any one a pin or two?" he said.

There was an eager search, and the result was that five were found, of which the boatswain produced three; and then stared as he saw his young officer unb.u.t.ton and strip off his white linen shirt, to kneel there half-naked beneath the rough awning the men held over them, and rapidly slit and tear it up into bandages.

By this time Roylance was back, and taking his cue from his friend, he did not hesitate to follow his example.

"Now quick, Strake," said Syd; "lay me up a few more strips of silk as fine as you can."