A Prisoner of Morro Part 10

Clif stopped for a moment and then he turned.

"Think, for instance," he said, "of being at the mercy of that man."

He was pointing toward Ignacio, who lay near them, glowering in his hate, and the sailors looked and understood.

"It's better to drown, sir," said one.

And the rest thought so, too, and declared it promptly.

"Very well, then," was the cadet's quiet answer, "we will stay on board.

We have faced death before."

That resolution made there was little else left to be determined.

"We can sink the s.h.i.+p, or wait and let them sink it," the cadet said.

"Or else--there's one thing more. We are headed in the right direction.

We can smash her upon the rocks of the Cuban coast."

And the sailors stared at him for a moment eagerly.

"And stand a chance of getting ash.o.r.e in safety!" they cried.

At which the cadet smiled.

"I'm afraid there's very little chance," he said. "But it's as good as anything else. We'll try it."

"Yes, sir."

"You two go down to the engine room again, and keep things moving. And the others stay on deck and make sure those Spaniards don't try to board us again. I can handle the wheel myself."

And with that the brave cadet turned away and sprang toward the pilot house.

CHAPTER VII.

A DESPERATE CHASE.

That was a heroic resolution those five brave men had made. But it was inevitable, for they did not mean that either they or that valuable s.h.i.+p should fall into the hands of the enemy.

And apparently the enemy knew they did not mean to. For they kept battering away at the big hulk that loomed up in the darkness, running close alongside and firing viciously.

Every shot made a deafening crash as it struck home.

But the Americans did not mind it especially. When a man has made up his mind to die he is not afraid of anything.

And the men on deck paced up and down serenely, and Clif tugged at the wheel with a positively light-hearted recklessness.

It would have been a cold sort of a person whose spirit did not rise to such an occasion as that. The wild night and the furious cannonading, but above all the prospect of taking that huge s.h.i.+p and driving her forward at full speed until she smashed upon the rocks, was a rather inspiring one.

The reader may have heard about the man out West who drew an enormous crowd by advertising an exhibition railroad wreck, two empty trains cras.h.i.+ng into each other at full speed. This was a similar case; it does not often happened that a man has occasion to drive a s.h.i.+p aground on purpose.

The resolution to which the Americans had come must have been plain to the unfortunate Spaniards who were tied up on board the Maria. Their fright was a terrible one, anyhow.

Clif glanced out at them several times; their presence was the only thing that made him hesitate to do what he had resolved.

"For they haven't done anything, poor devils," he thought to himself, "I wish I knew what to do with them."

But there was only one thing that could be done; that was to put them off in a small boat, and that would be practically murdering them.

"They'll have to stay and take chances with us," muttered Clif.

As if there were not noise enough about that time those men began to raise a terrific outcry, yelling and shrieking in terror. But n.o.body paid any attention to them--except that the sailors took the trouble to examine their bonds once more.

It would have been dangerous to let those desperate fellows get loose then. For the Americans had enemies enough to cope with as it was.

All this while the Spanish gunboat had been firing away with all her might and main. She would cut across the vessel's stern, and send her shots tearing through the whole length of the s.h.i.+p; then she would come up close alongside and pour a dozen broadsides in.

And nearly all the shots. .h.i.t, too.

It was evident to those on board that the merchantman would not stand very much battering of that sort. Already one of the sailors had come up to announce that two of the firemen had been struck.

But still the Maria tore desperately onward. n.o.body cared very much how much damage was done, except that they did not want the engines to be smashed until the s.h.i.+p had reached the sh.o.r.e.

As well as Clif could calculate roughly, it ought not to have taken them an hour to return to the coast, for they had the storm to aid them.

That they could hold out that long under the unceasing fire he did not believe.

"But the Spaniards may use up all their ammunition," he thought to himself.

That was a possibility, for he knew that the supply in the possession of Spain was a small one.

And the actual course of events made him think that his surmise was true. The desperate chase kept up for perhaps half an hour; and then unaccountably the Spaniard's fire began to slacken.

Clif could hardly believe his ears when he heard it.

"What can it mean?" he gasped.

But a moment later his surprise was made still greater. For one of the sailors bounded into the pilot house.

"She's giving up, sir!" he cried.

"Giving up!"

"Yes, sir."

"How in the world do you mean?"