Captain Calamity Part 13

"Get aft!" shouted the mate, "they're murderin' the old man."

Smith turned and dashed off to the Captain's cabin, which he entered without even the ceremony of knocking. It was empty, but from a small room adjoining came the sound of stentorian snores.

"Blimey!" muttered Smith, glancing round him. "He don't sound as if he were dead."

His eye fell on the s.h.i.+p's log which lay open on the table.

Instinctively he glanced at it and, under the entry for the day, read the following:

"Jasper Skelt, boatswain of the barque _Esmeralda_. Died at sea. Cause, misadventure."

He slowly returned to the bridge and told the mate what he had seen.

"You're sure he was alive?" asked the latter.

"Well, he was makin' a noise like a motor-'bus climbin' a hill,"

answered Smith.

At eight bells that morning Mr. d.y.k.es, in quite a different frame of mind to that of a couple of hours ago, sent the bos'n to muster all hands on deck. The men tumbled out sullenly, muttering among themselves in a manner which seemed to justify the mate's recent warning to the Captain.

Suddenly one of them gave a cry.

In the clear, grey morning light, they beheld, hanging from one of the derricks, the lifeless body of Jasper Skelt. His hands and feet were tightly bound with cords, and he was suspended from the boom by a rope round his neck.

Judging from the men's faces as they stared at the ghastly spectacle, Calamity's "appeal" was not likely to prove a vain one.

CHAPTER XI

THE FIGHT

The German gunboat, that the _Hawk_ had been following so a.s.siduously, had disappeared in the fog of the Sunday on which the _Ann_ was stopped.

Nevertheless, Calamity set the course each day with an unhesitating decisiveness which seemed to suggest that he had some definite plan in view. A day or two after that encounter a large steam-yacht painted war-grey, and flying no ensign, was sighted steaming in a northerly direction. Calamity, who was on the bridge at the time, examined her through his gla.s.ses and then handed them to Smith, the mate being below.

"What do you make of her?" he asked.

The second-mate, after a long and careful scrutiny, handed the gla.s.ses back.

"Looks like a commerce-destroyer," he said, "but blowed if I can tell what nationality she is."

"H'm, we'll soon find out," answered the Captain. "Go for'ad and send a shot after her as soon as I've altered the course."

Smith left the bridge, and, mounting the foc'sle, took the tarpaulin cover off the quick-firer which was mounted there. Meanwhile Calamity had brought the _Hawk's_ nose round so that he was now in the wake of the strange s.h.i.+p.

"All ready, sir!" shouted Smith.

"Then let her have it."

The second-mate carefully laid the gun and next minute a sh.e.l.l went hurtling over the yacht's stern; too high to do any damage, yet near enough to make any nervous persons on board feel more nervous still. The noise brought the privateer's crew tumbling on deck, eager to see what was happening. Then, before the sound of the shot had died away, the yacht was observed to be changing her course--steaming round in the arc of a circle to starboard of the _Hawk_. Obviously she was not running away, and the inference was that she intended to fight.

"Pipe to quarters!" cried Calamity from the bridge; but before the bos'n had time to obey the order the men were rus.h.i.+ng to their places. It seemed as if there was going to be a fight at last.

The yacht, a steamer of about 3,000 tons, came round with her bows pointing towards the _Hawk's_ starboard quarter, and, as she reached that position, there came the sullen boom of a gun. A sh.e.l.l whistled above the privateer's upper works, smas.h.i.+ng to splinters one of the boats which the carpenter had been repairing on the davits. A second shot followed hard upon the first, and then a third, which smashed one of the raised skylights above the engine-room, sending a shower of broken gla.s.s upon the men below.

"Blimey!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Smith as he stood by his gun, lanyard in hand, "this looks like the real thing--not half it don't."

The damage done by the last two shots would have been greater still had not Calamity thrust the quartermaster away from the wheel and taken it himself. Under his control, the _Hawk_ slewed round so that she presented only her bows as a target for her opponent. As the sound of the latter's guns died away, she was seen to hoist the German naval ensign at her stern, while a signal hoist was run up to the mast-head signifying "Surrender or I sink you."

There was a lull, the two vessels facing each other bows-on like a couple of fierce dogs about to fight. Then a little bundle trundled up to the _Hawk's_ triatic stay, broke, and two burgees, one blue and white, the other red, fluttered out in the breeze. It was Calamity's answer: "Stand by to abandon s.h.i.+p." As his men looked up and read the signal there was a burst of hoa.r.s.e laughter, followed by a ringing cheer. They realised the grim humour of the message, and thoroughly appreciated it.

During the next half-hour the engagement consisted only of the exchange of a few shots, one or two of which did damage on both sides. The belligerents were manoeuvring for position, each trying to force the other to fight facing the sun, which would, of course, place him at a serious disadvantage. While these tactical evolutions were in progress, a couple of the _Hawk's_ men received wounds and Miss Fletcher, who had been watching the spectacle through her cabin porthole, rushed on deck, in spite of the risk she ran of being hit herself. She was helping to remove one of the injured men, when Calamity caught sight of her.

"Send that fool-woman to her cabin!" he roared to Mr. d.y.k.es.

The mate hesitated. He was extraordinarily impressed by the girl's plucky act, but the Captain's order, though a wise one, struck him as being unduly harsh. Besides, he was loth to miss such a unique opportunity of, perhaps, doing daring deeds under her very eyes.

"D'you hear what I say?" shouted the Captain.

"Excuse me, sir," he answered; "but who's to look after the wounded if Miss Fletcher doesn't?"

"If the girl wants to make herself useful she can dress the men's wounds in the hold. But I won't have a woman on deck during a fight."

It was an ungracious order, but Mr. d.y.k.es had nothing for it but to leave the bridge and acquaint Miss Fletcher with the Captain's instructions.

"The skipper's compliments," he said, "and would you attend to the wounded when they're taken down to the hold?"

The girl glanced at him sharply; probably the hesitating manner in which he spoke roused her suspicions.

"That's not what he said?" she challenged.

"Well, I guess it's as near as no matter."

"You mean he has ordered me off the deck?"

The mate made a deprecatory gesture and turned away. For a moment the girl hesitated, half inclined to defy the Captain's orders and remain on deck. Then the futility of any such act of defiance occurred to her, and she returned to her cabin, locking the door behind her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot with rage, "I hate him!"

She continued to hate him ardently for a while, and then, as this gave little real satisfaction, she opened her cabin door and peered out just as Smith was pa.s.sing.

"Are you going on to the bridge?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, pausing.

"Then be good enough to tell the Captain that he can tend the wounded himself," she burst out, and slammed the door before the astonished second-mate could recover from his surprise.

He duly delivered her message, but it was doubtful if Calamity heard it; certainly he made no comment, and Smith thought it wise to let the matter go at that.