Stan Lynn Part 51

"No one there," he said in a sharp whisper, and rushed up into the light.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

"A TRAITOR."

No movement above him, no swish and horrible thud of a great two-handed sword, but a free course for the lad to spring from the last step into the long room, its blackened, pitch-besmirched floor covered with charred patches, and pieces of pitch, broken pots, and, above all, scores of empty cartridge-cases lying scattered about, and all lit up by the bright suns.h.i.+ne which streamed in through the open barricaded windows, Stan stopped short, with his follower crowding up and pressing upon him, pistol in hand, and gave a sharp look at every barricade to see if any of the enemy were crouching behind the holes in the window-opening; and, satisfied that the place was free, he waved one of the revolvers he held above his head and led off in a wild and excited--"Hip! hip! hip! hurrah!"

The shout was taken up and repeated with all the force of his companions' lungs, while as the lad made a rush to the nearest window and gazed out on to the river, his lips parted for another cheer and his revolver-armed hand rose for a fresh wave.

But his lips closed again, his hand dropped to his side, and nothing but a hoa.r.s.e, murmuring sound came forth in the words:

"I can't--I can't; I'm dead-beat now."

"Hold up, my lad!" cried the lieutenant wildly as he sprang forward just in time to catch Stan as he reeled, and eased him down into a sitting position upon one of the bales, supporting the lad's head against his breast. "Where are you hurt?"

"Nowhere," said Stan in half-suffocated tones. "Done up, I suppose--too much for me. Water, please. Here," he added feebly, "give the cowards one more cheer. No, no," he added huskily and with more animation; "we've all done enough. Thank you!"

He took the tin of water dipped for him from one of the buckets brought up for extinguis.h.i.+ng fire, drank with avidity, and then rose and staggered to the bucket-side, dropped upon his knees, and bent over to bathe his burning temples and smarting eyes.

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed as he rose and began drying his face with his blackened handkerchief. "It was very weak and cowardly, but I couldn't help it. Sort of reaction, I suppose, after such a strain. I can't help feeling a bit ashamed."

"Of being so cowardly, sir?" said the lieutenant dryly.

"Yes; it was very weak," replied Stan.

"Oh yes, very," said the lieutenant, with a curious croak in his throat.

"I never saw such a cowardly lot as we all are in my life.--Eh, lads?"

A wild, half-hysterical laugh arose from the party, and the next minute a most absurd performance was gone through, the men all beginning to shake hands with one another, the biggest fellow present with tears running down his cheeks.

"Shocking cowards, all of us, Mr Lynn," said the lieutenant huskily; "but we've sent them flying with fleas in their ears."

"Yes, yes," cried Stan excitedly now, as he fast recovered from his weakness. "Oh! it was bravely done, but you ought to have had a man to lead you. Here, we must go down and let Mr Blunt hear the news."

"Yes, directly," said the lieutenant; "but when I tell him--I mean, _we_ tell him--all that has been done, I think I know what he'll say."

"Say?" cried Stan, staring at the speaker. "What will he say?"

"That he couldn't have done it better himself."

A tremendous cheer arose at this, and the colour began to return to the young leader's face, while to turn the conversation, which was growing painful, Stan suddenly said, addressing all:

"Why, it must have been that last volley!"

"Yes," said the lieutenant; "that was too much for them. They stopped, though, to carry off all their wounded."

This last was said as they stood gazing out of the windows at the six great junks gliding slowly up against the current with all sail set, but no remark was made about the way in which the broad river was dotted with ghastly-looking objects floating away with the stream and, fortunately for those at the _hong_, fast growing more distant; but all knew how busy the defeated enemy must have been plunging those who had fallen into the river before they sailed away.

"Now let us go down, sir, and see if Mr Blunt is well enough to hear the news."

"Yes; he ought to have been told before."

"We left him half-asleep," said the lieutenant meaningly. "I wouldn't wake a wounded man, sir, even to give him the best of news."

"Perhaps it would be best to wait," said Stan wearily, and looking as if all the spirit in him before had completely gone.

"Feel done up, sir?"

"Yes, horribly," replied Stan as they reached the head of the stairs, and both glanced round and then looked in each other's eyes.

"What were you looking round for?" said Stan.

"To see that there was no sign of fire anywhere about. Weren't you?"

"Yes," said Stan. "How horribly the place smells!" Then, with his thoughts reverting to the late engagement: "I say, the enemy must have lost very heavily."

"Awfully, sir," said the man; and then meaningly, "Didn't you see the crows?"

Stan's brave companion was alluding to a long line of dusky birds that were following the dismal objects floating in direful procession down the river, and coming up from all directions to join their friends.

"Yes," said the lad, with a shudder, "I saw them;" and at the same minute a voice came from behind, one of the party calling the attention of another to the same strange piece of animal instinct.

"I say," he said, "look how the crows are coming up. How can they know when there is a fight?"

He called them crows--the common term--but he meant vultures, the scavengers of the Chinese villages and towns.

Blunt was sleeping heavily, or rather, he was lying back in a state of semi-stupor, the result of his wounds and the exertion of moving when in so weak a state. Wing was at his side, busily wafting the fan to and fro, but closing it quickly from time to time to make a blow at some troublesome, obtrusive fly, but never hitting once.

"Still asleep?" said Stan in a whisper.

"Yes, sleep velly fast," replied the man. "Velly bad indeed. Hot in head now. Keep talkee. Say silly pidgin nonsense. Wanted get up and go 'way while all fight. Heah pilate shout. Wanted go see. Wing tly to 'top him. Say knock Wing down not get out o' way.--You been killee all pilate?"

"All? Nonsense," said Stan wearily. "But we've driven them away."

"Dlive allee 'way? Yes," said Wing, nodding his head a good deal.

"Shoot, killee, flighten. Fly 'way like clows when shoot. But soon fo'get. Come back again like clows."

"Come back like the crows?" said Stan.

"Yes. Shoot gun, all fly 'way. Fo'get soon; come back again to get good t'ings."

"Do you mean you think the pirates will come back and attack?"

"Yes. Wing suah. Some day."

"Do you think he is right?" said Stan, turning to his lieutenant.