The Missing Merchantman Part 19

"It is all right; she is not hurt, only frightened a little. Get her bed ready."

Upon hearing this, Mrs Gaunt, taking the notion into her head that her husband and Percy were following at their leisure, hurried away to prepare Lucille's bed for her, leaving Mrs Henderson to receive her child. This afforded the doctor an opportunity which, to speak the truth, was most welcome to him. He knew from experience the consummate tact which women are wont to exercise in the breaking of bad news, and he resolved forthwith to delegate to his wife the task to which he had been looking forward with so much mental perturbation. So, as soon as he reached his wife's side, he said hastily:

"Look here, Rose dear, you need not be alarmed. With the exception of being frightened very nearly out of her wits, poor child, there is nothing wrong with Lucille; she has swooned with terror, but I can soon put her all right again. The Malays, however, have landed on the island; and I am dreadfully afraid they have got Gaunt and poor little Percy, but we can know nothing for certain until the return of Manners and Nicholls, who have gone forward to reconnoitre. There is no time now to enter into particulars--they can be told by and by; but poor Mrs Gaunt is certain to inquire presently for her husband and child, so I want you to go to her _now_--leave Lucille to me; take her to her own room, and break to her as gently as possible what I have just told you, laying stress at the same time upon the fact that we _know_ nothing certainly as yet, and that matters may turn out much better than we apprehend. Look! there she is. Now go to her and be as gentle with her as you can."

Full of sympathy, Mrs Henderson at this hurried away upon her painful errand; whilst her husband, as soon as the coast was clear, made his way down to his own room with the unconscious Lucille.

Arrived there, he laid the child upon her bed, and then opened the compact medicine chest which, on leaving England, he had happily taken the precaution of adding to his personal outfit, and this done he forthwith set about the task of restoration.

The task proved more difficult and of longer duration than he had antic.i.p.ated; and before success rewarded his efforts his wife rejoined him, in tears.

"Well," he said nervously, and without desisting a moment from his occupation, "how have you managed?"

"Oh, Duncan!" sobbed Mrs Henderson, "it was dreadful! Poor dear Ida is quite prostrated with grief and terror, though she did, and is still doing, her best to bear up under the awful agony of suspense. Fancy, dearest, both husband and child--oh, it is horrible! Can _nothing_ be done to save them?"

"Nothing, just now, I fear," was the gloomy response. "You see there are but three fighting men of us now, and we do not know how many of the enemy there are. It is quite useless to attempt the devising of plans until the other two return with intelligence; _then_, indeed, we will see what can be done. And it shall go hard but we will rescue them somehow. Where did you leave Mrs Gaunt?"

"In her own room on her knees, praying for her lost ones; it is all she can do, poor soul. Ah! the dear child is reviving at last, is she not, dear?"

"Yes, yes," answered Henderson hurriedly. "Now reach me that gla.s.s of medicine from the table. Thanks. Here, Lucille, my dear, drink this, little one, it will do you good."

A faint tinge of returning colour had at length appeared in the child's pale cheeks and lips. This had been succeeded by a-fluttering sigh or two, and then her eyes had opened suddenly with a look of terror, which had given place to one of joy and relief as she recognised her father and mother bending over her. Upon which Henderson had gently raised her and promptly administered the draught which he had prepared.

Presently the little creature spoke. "Oh, mamma," she exclaimed, looking somewhat wildly about her, "is it morning; is it time to get up?

I have had such a dreadful dream--"

"There; never mind your dream, dear; forget all about it, and try to go to sleep again," said Mrs Henderson soothingly; "it is not quite time to get up yet."

"Yes; go to sleep again like a good girl," agreed Henderson; "but you can tell us your dream first, dear, if you very much wish to do so. You forget," he added in an undertone to his wife; "she may be able to throw a great deal of light upon the state of affairs, and afford us information of the last importance. What was your dream, darling?"

"Oh," began the child, "I dreamt that we--Mr Gaunt and Percy and I, you know--had been to the beach gathering sh.e.l.ls; and as we were coming back in the boat a great ship suddenly came round the corner, full of ugly, wicked men; and they fired guns at us, and one of them hit Mr Gaunt, for I saw the blood running down his face. And then they came after us in a boat, and were quite near us when we reached the creek; and then Mr Gaunt told Percy and me to run home as fast as ever we could; and he took one of the boat's oars and got out and stood on the beach, and looked as if he was going to fight the men. So Percy took my hand, and we ran--oh, ever so fast; and I looked round and saw Mr Gaunt fighting all the men with the oar; and then we turned a corner, and I felt tired and wanted to stop; but Percy wouldn't let me, and we kept on running, and I began to cry. And just as I wanted to stop again we heard somebody running after us, and I thought it was Mr Gaunt, but it wasn't; it was one of the ugly men out of the ship; and he had a long knife in his hand. So we ran faster, and then dear Percy fell down; but I ran on, and the ugly man caught Percy, and--oh, mamma!" Here the poor little creature's eyes filled with tears, and the frightened look returned to them. "_Was_ it a dream, or did it really happen?"

"It really happened, dear," answered Henderson, who made a point of never deceiving his child about anything; "it really happened; but never mind; you are with us now, you know, and _quite_ safe, so lie down and try to go to sleep. And do not trouble about dear Percy; we will have him and his papa both safe back with us by to-morrow morning, please G.o.d. What a horrible experience for the poor child--and what dreadful news about those two!" he murmured to his wife as Lucille sank back and closed her eyes again under the influence of the soothing draught he had administered. "Fancy that poor little fellow Percy in the hands of those fiends. Hark! is not that Manners' voice hailing outside? Stay here with Lucille and hold her hand, it will soothe her, and I will go and lower the ladder."

With that Henderson hurried away, leaving his wife to watch by the bedside of their child, with a heart brimful of pity and sympathy for her bereaved friend, and of unspeakable grat.i.tude to G.o.d for the safety of her own loved ones.

Arrived at the head of the staircase, Henderson approached the parapet, and, leaning over, peered down into the gathering darkness.

"Is that you, Manners?" he asked, seeing a couple of figures standing close underneath him.

"Ay, ay, sir; here we are," answered Manners for himself and his companion. "Will you kindly lower the ladder, please, doctor?"

The ladder was lowered, and in another moment Nicholls made his appearance above the parapet, closely followed by Manners, who immediately hauled up the ladder after him.

"Well," questioned Henderson impatiently, seeing that neither of the men evinced a disposition to speak; "well, what is the news?"

"The worst, sir; the very worst," answered Manners with unusual emotion.

"They've got both Mr Gaunt and little Percy; and, would you believe it, sir? the devils have actually been ill-treating the poor little fellow, just for the sake, seemingly, of tormenting his father."

Henderson groaned aloud in sheer bitterness of spirit at hearing this.

"It's awful, isn't it, sir?" continued Manners, grinding his teeth with rage. "Nicholls here wanted to open fire upon them, there and then, and board in the smoke--dash in among them in the midst of the confusion, you know, sir, and see if we couldn't cut the two of them adrift and bring them off with us. There's nothing would have suited me better, for it made me fairly mad to see the brutes striking that poor little innocent child, and he and his father lashed to the trunks of a couple of trees; but it wouldn't do; it _wouldn't_ do, sir; there were too many of them for us. I counted twenty-seven of them, all told, after the second party had come ash.o.r.e from the proa; we couldn't have done any good. And, besides, there was you and the ladies to be thought of. So, after we had watched them for some time, I thought our best plan would be to come back here and consult with you, especially as they seemed to be getting ready to beat up our quarters. But we're determined, Nicholls and I, to have a slap at them some time to-night in some shape or form; and the only question is, how it is best to be done?"

Henderson stretched out a hand to each of them, which was cordially grasped, as he said, huskily:

"Thank you; thank you, my staunch and trusty friends, both; we _will_ have a slap at them, as you say. But we must do nothing hastily or without careful consideration; the issues involved are too many, the stake too great for us to risk anything by over-rashness. Let us each think the matter over carefully. And, meanwhile, as we shall need all our strength, you, Nicholls, go down and bring us up here something to eat and drink, as this may be our only chance to s.n.a.t.c.h a morsel of refreshment. And whilst he is doing that, perhaps you, Manners, will kindly go down and bring up all the arms and ammunition you can find, so that if the Malays come this way we may be prepared to give them a warm reception. I will keep watch here for the present."

In another minute Henderson was alone upon the parapet, with the deep violet star-studded sky above him, and on every hand the black outline of the high land and the dense growth of trees and bush which hemmed in the fort. Not a sound met his ear save the continuous _chirr_ of the myriads of insects with which the island abounded, the distant wash and gurgle of the river, and the mournful sighing of the night breeze through the foliage; but the whereabouts of the Malay camp was faintly indicated by an occasional gleam of ruddy light flashing upon the branches and leaves of a lofty tree in the direction of the creek; and, most gratifying sight of all, away to the eastward the sky was brightening into silvery radiance, showing that the full moon would shortly shed her friendly light upon the scene.

The two men soon returned from below in the performance of their several tasks, Manners having had the forethought to load the firearms by the light of a lantern whilst still in the armoury.

A few minutes later the moon rolled slowly into view from above the low- lying land beyond the Malay encampment, flooding the whole scene with her soft subdued light; and Manners then cautiously went from loophole to loophole looking for signs of the enemy, but without detecting any indication of their presence. Though neither of them had the slightest appet.i.te for food, the three men now proceeded to force a little refreshment down their throats, knowing full well that ere long they would have need of all their strength; and, whilst they ate, the conversation naturally turned upon the two hapless prisoners, and the best means for effecting their rescue. Henderson, indeed, had been able to think of little, else since the moment when his child had recovered sufficiently to relate her terrible experience; and whilst turning the matter over in his mind a hopeful thought had suggested itself. What, he asked himself, could have been the motive of the Malays in making prisoners of those two? Was it not likely that their object was plunder, and the extortion of a ransom? And, if so, he was resolved that _anything_ in reason which might be demanded--anything, in short, which should leave the party with the means of defending themselves and providing for their ultimate safety--should be granted. Let the wretches but be persuaded to give up their prisoners unharmed, and to leave the island, and he would not haggle about the price to be paid.

The trio were anxiously discussing together this hopeful view of the matter when the watchful Manners, who had stationed himself at a loophole for the purpose of maintaining a ceaseless look-out, suddenly raised his hand warningly, and then pointed in the direction of the pathway to the creek. Springing to their feet, his companions at once stationed themselves in positions which gave them a view of the spot indicated; and, looking intently, they presently detected in the deepest shadow of the bush two or three other shadows, which they speedily identified as human figures, the more readily from the fact that a stray moonbeam occasionally fell upon and glinted from their naked weapons.

The two or three were quickly joined by others, who emerged silently from the pathway through the bush until the watchers were able to count a dozen in all.

"Now, sir, what do you say? Shall we open fire upon them, you and I, with Mr Gaunt's repeaters, and Nicholls with his rifle? We could bowl over at least half of them before they could get away," eagerly whispered Manners in Henderson's ear.

"No, no; not for the world," was the answer. "Let us watch them and see if we can get an inkling of what their intentions may be. They at least cannot get at _us_ here; and any precipitate action on our part may only make matters worse for poor Gaunt. Our policy is to keep them in the dark as long as possible as to the number of their opponents."

The Malays having gained--unperceived, they doubtless hoped--the cover afforded by the deep shadow of a dense clump of bush, some two hundred yards distant from the fort, were now cl.u.s.tered closely together therein, apparently engaged upon a careful inspection of the curious building before them, and probably comparing notes thereon. They evidently seemed quite unable to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion with respect to it; and the fact that everything was perfectly dark, silent, and motionless about the fort--all the shutters in the exterior walls having been carefully closed--seemed to excite misgiving rather than confidence in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, for a figure would now and then detach itself from the rest and, on hands and knees, advance cautiously a little way through the long gra.s.s into the open, as though to gain a nearer view of the building, and then somewhat precipitately retire again, as though the courage of the adventurer were not equal to the task which he had undertaken. At length these tactics ceased, and the party, seeming to have finally made up their minds to be at least doing something, began, still clinging tenaciously to the deepest shadow, to move quietly along in a direction which would eventually lead to their discovery of the ship-yard.

"That will not do," whispered Henderson to his companions as soon as he observed this. "They must not be allowed to reach the ship-yard, or they will doubtless set fire to the cutter and everything else there. I was in hopes they would make up their minds to attack the building, when the advantage would be all on our side, enabling us to greatly reduce their numbers without risk of loss to ourselves; but apparently they do not like the look of the place. Now, you see that broad strip of moonlit sward over there which they are approaching. The first man who attempts to cross I will fire at; you, Manners, taking the second, I the third, and so on, you and I firing alternately so that we may take the better aim, and Nicholls reserving his fire in case of a rush. Should such take place, we must all fire as rapidly as possible with the object of checking it. But remember this, both of you, we must each make absolutely certain of his man before pulling trigger. Not a single bullet must be wasted, because in this case it will give us an immense advantage if we can impress the enemy with a conviction of the deadly character of our fire. Now, make ready, and recollect I fire first."

As the doctor spoke he carefully levelled his repeating rifle through a loophole and brought the sights in line with the trunk of a young sapling which stood full in the moonlight, and in front of which the stealthily advancing figures would have to pa.s.s. His heart throbbed so loudly that he could count its pulsations--one, two, three, four. The first figure is on the verge of the moonlight; he pauses a moment, looks anxiously at the fort, and then starts at a run to cross to the next patch of friendly shadow. Poor wretch! he little knows how true an eye is watching behind the sights of a rifle, waiting for him to come in line with that sapling. Another stride will bring him in line with it--_crack_! a flash of fire, a little puff of white smoke, and he flings up his arms as he falls heavily forward into the gra.s.s. A second figure has already emerged into the bright moonlight, following the first; it pauses at the flash and the report, as if about to turn back.

Too late! A second flash, a second report, and he, too, falls forward on his face. A third now springs out of the shadow and stoops forward as if to drag the fallen man back into shelter; but before he can reach him he, too, falls before Henderson's deadly rifle. That stops the advance most effectually, the remaining figures huddling close together where they stand. A most fatal mode of grouping themselves this, for the doctor, whose blood is now fully up, gives the word to fire into them as they stand; and instantly out flashes the fire of three rifles from as many loopholes, followed by such a commotion over there among the shadows as seems to indicate that the fire has not been in vain.

Two more shots, one each from Henderson and Manners, complete the enemy's discomfiture, and a hasty retreat is commenced.

"Follow them up, now; fire away!" exclaims Henderson eagerly; "but take careful aim. Now is our opportunity to teach them a wholesome lesson!"

And follow them up they did, with such deadly persistency that four only out of the twelve succeeded in making good their retreat and regaining the path leading to the cove.

"Splendid! admirable!" exclaimed the doctor with exultation, as he hastened with a parting shot the disappearance of the last figure. "We shall neither see nor hear anything more of those fellows to-night. And now, let us once more see if we cannot hit upon some scheme for the deliverance of those two, our valued friend Gaunt and his little son."

He was mistaken, however, in supposing that he had seen the last of the Malays for that night; for about two hours later, whilst they were still anxiously discussing the one question which, above all others, absorbed their thoughts, and were seemingly just as far as ever from any practicable solution of it, a gleam of ruddy light suddenly appeared in the pathway leading from the creek, and a minute later two Malays stepped boldly into the open, one of them holding aloft a lighted torch in one hand and a palm branch in the other, whilst the second man displayed what looked like a sheet of paper.

"A flag of truce craving a parley!" exclaimed Henderson, as he critically examined the two men through a loophole. "Let them approach; we will hear what they have to say--that is, if they can make themselves intelligible."

The Malays advanced boldly enough across the open toward the fort, evidently quite satisfied that the palm branch afforded them full and absolute protection, and at length came to a halt beneath the walls.

"Well, what do you want?" demanded the doctor of them in English, as he leaned over the parapet.

The one who bore the paper seemed quite to comprehend the purport of the question, for he said something unintelligible in reply, made a motion of writing upon the paper, and then held it aloft toward Henderson.

"Um! a letter," muttered the doctor; "possibly from Gaunt. Have you any string, either of you?" turning to his companions.

Nicholls happened to have a small ball of spun-yarn in his pocket, and this being produced, was unwound and the end lowered down to the letter- bearer, who gravely attached the letter, or whatever it was, to it, made an oriental obeisance, and promptly retired, followed by his companion.