Freaks on the Fells: Three Months' Rustication Part 26

"Load."

"Ready."

"Fire!"

Again the huge iron ma.s.s sprang from the cannon's mouth, and rushed along its deadly track. It struck the top of a wave, and bounding up pa.s.sed through the sails and cordage of the Russian, cutting one or two of the lighter spars, and also the main topsail halyards, which caused the yard to come rattling down, and rendered the sail useless. Seeing this, the pirate captain ordered sail to be reduced in order to keep at a sufficient distance astern to render the guns of the chase useless.

Every shot from our gun now told with terrible effect. We could see the splinters fly as every ball entered the s.h.i.+p's stern, or swept her deck, or crashed through her rigging. Presently she turned her broadside to us.

"She don't mean to waste her ammunition, surely," remarked the captain, with a sneer.

She did not mean to do so. She evidently meant to turn the tables by bearing suddenly down on us, and, if possible, give us a broadside before we could get out of range. The captain saw the intention instantly, and thwarted it.

"Up your helm! Square the yards! Look alive there!"

We fell off, and were soon running before the wind, with the swivel gun thundering over our stern, as it had formerly thundered over our bows.

The Russian fired a broadside, and lay-to. Every ball fell short of us.

We also lay-to, and now the fire was kept up steadily. The s.h.i.+p's fate was sealed. Those on board evidently thought so, for the colours which had hitherto been flying from the mast were presently lowered. Upon this we ceased firing, and ranged up alongside.

"Oh! you've had enough, have you?" cried our captain. "Perhaps you'll condescend to let your captain and papers come aboard _now_."

The Russian did not reply, but a boat was lowered. It was evident they meant to obey.

"Here, you boy," cried our captain, as he paced the deck, awaiting their arrival. "Here's a letter for you."

"A letter, sir!" I exclaimed, stepping forward, and touching my cap.

"Ay, your father gave it to me just afore we set sail. He told me not to give it to you until you'd seen a little rough work. You've seen some now, I think," (he accompanied this remark with a horrible leer), "so there's the letter. Go below and read it. I'll want you in half an hour for some still rougher work."

There seemed to me something very unaccountable and mysterious in this.

I knew that the captain did not know my father. I had not even told him that I had a father. It seemed to me impossible that in the course of the short half-hour that intervened between the time of my engaging to serve in the _Ring-tailed Smasher_, and the time of my setting sail, my father could have found out where I had run to, have met and conversed with the captain, and have written a letter to me. Yet it seemed that such was the case. I recognised the handwriting.

"Whom did you get the letter from? Did you see my father?"

"Come, youngster, don't you go for to question me. Go below d'rectly, an' stop there till ye'r wanted."

The captain seized the end of a rope as he spoke, so I retreated at once to the bedside of my poor friend Jack, only too glad to escape from the presence of the men whom I now abhorred with all my heart.

"Jack," said I, eagerly, "here's a letter from my father!"

He evinced no surprise, but, looking up solemnly, said, in a faint voice, "Read it."

Breaking the seal, I read as follows:--

"My Beloved Son,--I forgive you. You have sinned deeply in thus leaving me; but I know that you have repented. I know that your own conscience has rebuked you more sternly than any earthly parent could do. You cannot now recall the past--you cannot undo what you have done; you must now continue your voyage, and, in order to relieve your oppressed heart, I give you my blessing. I commend you, my dear boy, to Him who is the Saviour of sinners.

"Beware of the captain. Obey him in all that is right, but do not serve him. Again, I say, beware of him. There are secrets concerning him that I cannot unfold. I have just been to see Jack's mother. She sends her forgiveness and blessing to her son. G.o.d bless you, boy.--Your loving father,

"John Smith."

My father understood human nature. No reproaches that he could have heaped upon me would have cut half so deeply into my heart as did this kind, forgiving letter. My heart was full. Yet I felt a deep undercurrent of joy at knowing that my father loved me still. I looked at Jack. He seemed to be asleep, but he was not. A single tear coursed over his pale cheek as he looked up and whispered--

"We don't deserve this, Bob."

Before I could reply, the s.h.i.+p was shaken by a tremendous explosion, and immediately after I heard the most appalling shrieks and yells on deck, accompanied by the clas.h.i.+ng of swords and the scuffling of men in deadly conflict. I looked at Jack; he lay motionless, with his eyes closed.

For a moment I feared that he was dead.

"Bob Smith! Hallo! tumble up there, you skulker!" shouted a voice down the hatchway. At the same moment two wounded men were carried into the place, and the surgeon appeared with his horrible instruments glittering, cold and sharp, on a wooden tray.

Seizing my cutla.s.s, and thrusting a brace of pistols in my belt, I rushed on deck.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER 5.

On reaching the deck I saw at once how matters stood. The Russian had allowed us to come alongside, and then, throwing out grappling-irons, had fired a broadside into us, and attempted to board. They were soon overcome, however, by the pirates, and driven back into their s.h.i.+p, whither they were immediately followed.

I resolved, come what might, that I would take no part in the fray; but I was carried, in spite of myself, on board the strange vessel in the rush that our men made when they drove their opponents back. There was a short, sharp skirmish on the deck of the Russian, and then the crew were driven below, and the hatches put on. I remembered having seen a number of soldiers on board when we first came up with this vessel.

There were none now. Their mysterious disappearance struck me at first, but I soon forgot it in the thrilling scenes that followed.

In the middle of the vessel's main-deck there was a cage of wild beasts.

How they had got there of course I knew not, but I at once concluded the s.h.i.+p must have been in southern climes, and these animals were being brought home to be presented to some menagerie or zoological garden.

There were several fine specimens of lions and tigers, and the sight of blood which flowed plentifully on the decks had so excited these creatures that they were now filling the air with deafening roars, bounding against the sides of their cage, (which I expected every moment to see broken to pieces by their united strength), and glaring at us with the most awful expressions of ferocity I ever beheld.

Our captain, who looked almost as fierce as the wild brutes, could not make his voice heard for their roaring. In savage fury he rushed at the cage and made a desperate cut with his sword at the lion nearest the bars. The blood flowed from the wound freely, and the savage animal, being unable to wreak its vengeance on its cowardly a.s.sailant, attacked one of its comrades. This, and the blood now flowing in the cage, quite maddened them all. An indiscriminate fight ensued. The wooden part.i.tion that separated the tigers from the lions was smashed in, and the strong cage shook as if it were made of card-board.

"Turn a gun in-board," yelled the captain, who seemed to have actually gone mad with pa.s.sion.

The order was instantly obeyed.

"Load to the muzzle--grape--canister--chain shot. In with it."

He a.s.sisted in the operation; rammed home the extraordinary charge, pointed the gun at the cage, and applied the match. Instantly the gun leaped backwards as if it had been a living thing, broke down the bulwarks of the s.h.i.+p, and plunged overboard.

The effect of the shot was terrific. The cage was blown to atoms, and the mangled remains of the wild beasts were strewn about the deck. One animal, however, a magnificent Bengal tiger, had apparently escaped unhurt. It sprang at the captain with a hideous roar. He pointed a pistol at its open throat!

At that moment the woodcut in my book of travels flashed vividly before me. But I had not time to think. The pistol exploded, sending its contents down the creature's throat. The tiger fell short in its leap; blood poured from its mouth and nose. With another bound it cleared the bulwarks, and fell into the sea.

The calm that succeeded this thrilling incident was like a sudden lull in the midst of a furious storm. Even the pirates seemed to be solemnised by what had pa.s.sed.

"Now to work," cried the captain, wiping his sword, and laying it, with a brace of loaded pistols, on the capstan. "What are you staring at, you fools?--have you lost your senses? Open the after-hatch, and bring them up, one at a time. Get the plank ready."

The first who was led bound before the captain was the steward of the s.h.i.+p. He was deadly pale, and trembled very much.

"Now, my man," said the captain, "answer my questions. The _truth_ mind, else--" he touched the b.u.t.t of a pistol significantly.

"Where did you last sail from?"

To my amazement, the man gave the name of the port from which we ourselves had sailed. I felt certain that this was a falsehood, and that the poor man's life would be forfeited. Judge, then, my surprise when the captain said--