The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 52

"Hoo--ray!" whispered Jem in Don's ear, so sharply that it produced a strange tickling sensation.

"Open your knife, Jem."

"Right, my lad; I'm ready."

"This way, then. Hist!"

Don caught Jem's arm in a firm grip as he was moving along the deck, each feeling somewhat agitated at the daring venture of exchanging firm planks for the treacherous sea, infested as they knew it was by horrible creatures which could tear them limb from limb.

Jem had heard a sound at the same moment, and he needed no telling that he should listen.

For from some distance off along the sh.o.r.e there was a faint splash, and, as they strained their eyes in the direction from whence it had come, they could see flashes of pale light, which they knew were caused by paddles.

"It's them, Jem," whispered Don, excitedly. "We must not start yet till the canoe is close up. I wish I had told him that I would make some signal."

"It'll be all right, my lad," said Jem huskily. "Give 'em time. Think the watch 'll see 'em?"

"I hope not," panted Don, as he strained his eyes in the direction of the faintly flashing paddles, which seemed to be moved very cautiously.

"Think it is them, Jem?"

"Who could it be?"

"Might it be a war canoe coming to try and capture the ship?"

"Not it," said Jem st.u.r.dily; "it's Ugly, as put out his tongue, coming to help us away. My, Mas' Don, how I should like to chop him under the chin next time he does that pretty trick of his."

"Silence, man! Listen, and look out. Let's get close to the rope first."

They crept softly toward the rope hanging down from the main chains, ready to their hand, and, as they crept, the dark figure that had seemed to be spying over their movements crept too, but on toward the quarter-deck, where the captain and the first lieutenant were lolling over the rail, and talking gently as they smoked--rather a rare custom in those days.

"It's the canoe, Jem," whispered Don; "and it's coming closer."

They strained their eyes to try and make out the men in the long, low vessel, but it was too dark. They could not even hear the plash of a paddle, but they knew that some boat--that of friend or foe--was slowly coming toward the ship, for the flashing of the paddles in the phosph.o.r.escent water grew more plain.

"Ready, Jem?"

"Yes, I'm ready, lad. Rope's just where you stand."

"What!" cried the captain's voice loudly, and then there was a quick murmur of talking.

"What's that mean, Mas' Don?"

"Don't know. Some order."

"Boat ahoy!" cried one of the watch forward, and there was a buzz of excitement which told that the paddling of the canoe had been seen.

"Watch there forward!" roared the captain.

"Ay, ay, sir," came back.

"Follow me, Jem; we must swim to her now."

"I'm after you, my lad."

"Jem!" in a tone of despair.

"What is it!"

"The rope's cut!"

"What? So it is. Never mind. After me! There's the one in the forechains."

In the midst of a loud buzz of voices, and the pad, pad--pad, pad of bare feet on the deck, Jem and Don reached the forechains; and Jem ran his hand along in the darkness till he felt the knot by which he had secured the rope.

"Here she is, Mas' Don. Now, then, over with you quick, or I shall be a-top of your head."

"I've got it," whispered Don.

Then in a voice full of despair,--

"This is cut, too!"

At the same moment the captain's voice rang out,--

"Look out there, you in the watch forward; two men are trying to leave the ship!"

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

WHAT MR. JONES THOUGHT.

"What's to be done, Mas' Don?" whispered Jem, whom this second proof of treachery against them seemed to have robbed of the power to act.

"This way," cried a voice, which they recognised as Ramsden's. "By the forechains."

"Oh, if I had hold of you," snarled Jem, as he ground his teeth.

"Do you hear me?" whispered Don. "Come on."

He spoke from where he stood on the bulwark, holding by one of the shrouds, and offering his hand to Jem, who could not see it, but climbed to his side.

"Header?" he whispered.

"Yes.--Off!"

Don gave the word as he glanced in the direction where he believed the canoe to lie; and then, raising his hands above his head, he sprang right off the bulwark into the sea.