The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 29

"Then they have chosen a very bad night for it," said Uncle Paul, laughing.

"Monsieur is right. Nosing would burn. But the enemies of la France, my great country, not stop to think of zat."

"Oh, but that must be a rumour, Rodd," said Uncle Paul uneasily. "Why, surely they are not going to fancy that our English schooner is a spy and an enemy!"

The waiter's ears were sharp, and he cried at once--

"Englis.h.!.+ Oh non, monsieur. You are from the little two-mast. It is not you. It is some enemy of the King whose sheep is in the harbour, and great dispatches have come to the Governor that she is to be seized.

Ah, there again, monsieur! Anozzer gun from the fort."

It was plain enough to hear, for the windows of the big badly-lit room into which the man had conducted them clattered in their frames, while the dull, heavy report was preceded by a vivid flash as of lightning.

"Ha, ha! You see. The sheep will not get away, for at the forts they are alert and will sink her if she try."

"Oh, but no vessel could try to put out in a storm like this, Rodd,"

said Uncle Paul.

"No, sare," continued the waiter excitedly; "the boats will go out with the soldiers and take the sheep."

"She is a man-of-war, I suppose?"

"Yes, sare. Not very big, but an enemy; but if she fight they will shoot from all the forts and sink her."

"But how do you know all this?" said Rodd.

"Many soldiers, hors.e.m.e.n, came galloping up to bring dispatches to the Governor. There, sare; you will look from the window," continued the man, using a clean serviette that he took from under his arm to rub the steamy window-panes, for the cold blast of the storm had caused the warm air inside to blur the gla.s.s with a thick deposit of vapour. "There, sare," continued the man; "zat is ze sheep."

"Oh, it's too thick to see for the rain."

"Yes, sare; but you see out zare in ze arbour ze two lights."

"Nonsense man!" cried Uncle Paul, half angrily. "That is the English schooner--ours."

"Oh, non, non, non, monsieur! Away to ze _gauche_--ze left hand. Ze sheep with two high, tall mast, that we all see here when she come in ze storm yesterday. We all here with ze officer of ze regiment see you come in through ze storm, and ze enemy sheep, a stranger, come after, and ze officer say she will run you down and sink you in ze harbour!"

"Oh, that one!" cried Rodd excitedly.

"Ah, I see, monsieur knows. You see her lights swing in the wind--two;"

and the man held up a couple of fingers.

"Yes, I see where you mean," cried Rodd; "but she has only one light."

"Ah, ha! Monsieur is right. Zare is only one. Ze vind storm has blow out ze uzzer. Look, now zare is no light at all. Ze sheep put im out."

The violence of the rain was now abating, but the wind beat against and shook the window-panes and shrieked as it rushed by. It was evening, and a few minutes before it had been dark as night, but with the cessation of the rain the heavy forms and light rigging of the many vessels gradually became more and more visible, while fresh lights began to come into view, but in every case not moving and swinging about like those in the rigging of the safely moored s.h.i.+ps, but gliding about from various directions as if they were in the sterns of boats that had put off from the harbour side.

"Messieurs see?" said the waiter excitedly. "Two boats come now from the fort on ze uzzer side. Look, look! Ze lights s.h.i.+ne on ze soldiers'

bayonet. They go to take ze sheep."

As the man was speaking the brig that had previously taken up so much of Rodd's attention stood out more clearly. Her riding lights were indeed gone, but there was a peculiar misty look forward, and it was now Rodd's turn to speak excitedly about what he saw.

"Why, uncle," he cried, "she's moving! They've slipped their cable and hoisted the jib!"

"Nonsense, boy! Not in a storm like this."

"I don't care, uncle; she has. Look; you can see her gliding along."

"Impossible!"

"It isn't, uncle. Look, you can see them plainly now; two boats full of men, and they are rowing hard, but getting no nearer to the brig. Here, I want to see; let's get right down to the harbour."

"What, to get wet again?" cried Uncle Paul.

"It doesn't rain now a drop. There's nothing but wind; and look, look; the people are running down now in crowds, and there goes a company of soldiers at the double. Oh, there's going to be something very exciting, uncle, and we must see."

"But the dinner, boy, the dinner! What is this to us?"

"Dinner, uncle!" cried the lad indignantly. "Who's going to stop for dinner when there are boats out yonder full of men going to board and take a s.h.i.+p?"

"Humph! Well," grunted Uncle Paul, "I suppose it would be rather exciting, and we shall be able to see; but I don't know, though.

There'll be firing, and who knows which way the bullets will fly?"

"Oh, they; won't hit us, uncle. Come on."

Uncle Paul was rapidly growing as excited as his nephew, while the waiter, if it were possible, was as full of eagerness as both together, and forgetting all his duties and the dinner that he had ordered to be prepared, he cried--

"Ze rain is ovare; you come vith me. I take you out ze back way and down ze little rue which take us to the quay."

That was enough for Rodd, and the next minute they were following the waiter down the big staircase through the great kitchen once more, which was now quite deserted, and out into a walled yard to a back gateway, beyond which, mingling with the roaring of the wind, they could hear the trampling of many feet.

"Zis way; zis way!" the bare-headed waiter kept crying, as he put his serviette to quite a new use, battling with the wind as he folded it diagonally and then turned it into a cover for his head by tying the corners under his chin.

"Here, I say," cried Rodd, as the man kept on at a trot; "I want to get to the harbour."

"_Oui_, _oui_; zis way!" panted their guide, who nearly put the visitors out of patience by turning off two or three times at right angles and apparently taking them quite away from where they wished to go. "Zis way! Zis way!" he kept on crying, till at last the trio were alone, others who had been hurrying onward having taken different directions.

Bang went another gun from the fort, a report which seemed to be sent back instantly from the harbour walls, apparently close at hand.

"Yes, zis way; zis way!" shouted the man. "I show you before zey sink ze sheep."

And now he suddenly turned into a narrow alley formed by two towering warehouses so close together that there was not room for two people to walk comfortably abreast; but "Zis way, zis way," shouted the guide, "and you shall be zere upon ze field--_sur le champ, sur le champ_. Ah ha!" he cried directly after, as he suddenly issued from out of the darkness of the alley into the comparative light of a narrow wharf enc.u.mbered with casks, just beyond which was the dripping stone edge of the great harbour, and below them boats, barges, and lighters swinging from the great rusty iron rings and mooring posts of the quay.

"Vat you say to dat?" cried the waiter, turning round to face his companions, beginning loudly and ending in a choking whisper, for he had met a gust of wind face to face which stopped him for the moment from taking his breath and forced him to turn his back and make a s.n.a.t.c.h at the corner of one of the warehouses. "Faith of a good man!" he panted.

"The vind blow me inside out! Aha! What did I say?"

"Capital!" panted Rodd, almost as breathlessly as the waiter, at whom upon any other occasion he would have burst out into a roar of laughter, so grotesque was his appearance with the white napkin tied under his chin. "Oh, this is a splendid place!"

"Here, you look out, Pickle," cried Uncle Paul. "Lay hold of something, or we shall be blown right off."