Fitz the Filibuster Part 17

Drawing a deep breath, he turned his head slowly, and a.s.suming as careless a manner as he could command, he looked back inboard beneath the swelling sails, to see that several of the men were lying asleep in the shade, while others were smoking and chatting together. The boatswain was not visible, and the mate was apparently below, the after part of the vessel being vacant save that the man at the wheel was standing with outstretched hands resting upon the spokes, moving his lower jaw slowly as he worked at his succulent quid.

Poole was still below with his father in the cabin, so that to the middy's way of thinking he had the deck to himself. He took another deep breath, and with his heart beating heavily, swung himself round, laid hold of a rope, and climbed inboard again, when a.s.suming a nonchalance he did not feel as he dropped upon the deck, he thrust his hands into his pockets, mastered the desire to run, and beginning to whistle, stalked slowly aft till he reached the companion-hatch, and began to descend the steps without a sound.

Now was the critical time, for as he went down he could see that the cabin-door was shut, and hear the dull burr, burr, burr-like murmur of the captain's voice talking to his son.

Half-way down Fitz stopped short, for he heard a movement as if Poole were crossing the cabin, and if he came out now the opportunity was gone.

The middy felt the sensation as of a spasm attacking his chest, and as he paused there, half suffocated, he trembled with anger against himself for losing such a chance; but the sound within the cabin ceased, the captain's voice went murmuring on once more, and the suffocating sensation pa.s.sed away, leaving the boy ready to seize his opportunity, and quick as thought he descended the last few steps, paused at the cabin-entry, and raising his hand quickly and silently, secured the outer door.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A BOLD STROKE.

Fitz Burnett did not pause to think of the rights or wrongs of his proceedings, but smothered up everything in the belief that he was doing his duty.

He would not even pause to consider whether his ideas were possible or impossible; everything was swallowed up in action, and with feverish energy he hurried back on deck to make the most use of the flying moments while he could.

Hurrying forward to where the men were dozing, smoking, and thinking, he signed to those who noticed his approach, and called to the others.

"Now, my lads!" he cried.

The men sprang up wonderingly, apparently influenced by old traditions, and in no wise surprised to find the young officer about to give them some order.

"Look here, my lads," he said, in a low, quick, excited voice; "a word with you! I know you were all ABs to a man."

"Ay, ay, sir!" said the nearest sailor at whom he looked.

"Old men-of-war's men," continued Fitz to another.

"Ay, ay, sir! That's right," said the sailor.

"It is my duty to make you, a crew of good men and true, know exactly how you stand."

The listeners looked wonderingly at the excited boy, and then at one another, as if asking for the meaning of these unusual words.

"Look here," continued Fitz, "you have all been good fellows to me since I have been aboard."

"Ay, ay, sir! Why not?" said one of the men, with his face broadening into a hearty grin.

"And that's why I, an officer in the Navy, feel friendly disposed to a set of smart fellows who used to serve the Queen."

"Ay, ay, sir! We served the Queen," came in a murmur.

"You did it in ignorance, no doubt, but in what you are doing you are offenders against the law, and may at any time be taken, and perhaps be strung up to the yardarm after a short trial. Certainly you will be severely punished."

A low murmur of dissent, almost derision, came from the little knot of men, and one of them laughed.

"You don't believe me," cried Fitz. "It is true. And now listen to what I say, one and all; I call upon you in the Queen's name to obey my orders, for I take possession of this schooner as an officer in Her Majesty's service. In the Queen's name!"

There was a low murmur of mingled surprise and derision at this.

"Silence, there!" cried Fitz. "I know that I am a very young officer to speak to you, but I am in the Queen's Navy, and I order you in Her Majesty's name to obey all my commands. I am going to sail at once for Kingston, where I have no doubt there will be a man-of-war on the station, and if you behave well I shall speak to the captain and get him to make it easy for you, but of course I shall give up the skipper and his son as prisoners."

"Here, say something, Chips," growled one of the men; and the carpenter spoke out.

"Say, squire, won't that be rather hard on them?"

"Silence, sir! How dare you! That is not the way for a common sailor to address an officer."

"Beg pardon, sir, but I am not a common sailor; I am a hartisan. Why, you know--the Chips."

There was a t.i.tter here.

"Attention!" roared Fitz. "This is no laughing matter, my lads.

Perhaps each man's life, certainly his liberty, is at stake."

"Ay, ay, sir!" came in a growl.

"That's better," said Fitz. "Now, I don't want to be hard on you, my lads."

"Hear, hear! Thank you, sir," cried the carpenter.

"And I should be sorry to be harsh to any man; but once more, as an officer in the Royal Navy, I have got my duty to do, and I mean to do it."

"Ay, ay, sir!" came again, in a low acquiescent growl. "But he needn't keep on a-telling us."

"Those men who stand by me and do their duty in navigating this vessel shall have ample pay and reward."

"What about prize-money, sir?" shouted a voice.

"There'll be no prize-money."

The men groaned.

"But there will be reward in the shape of salvage, my lads. I, single-handed, have taken this schooner as a prize to the gunboat _Tonans_, commanded by Captain Glossop, whose officer I am. She will be condemned and sold, and those who help me loyally will have their reward. Now then, every man stand forward who is ready to do his duty by me."

At that moment there was a sharp tapping heard from below.

"What's that?" cried Fitz sharply, though he perfectly well knew.

"It's the skipper, sir, a-opening his eyes, I think," said the carpenter. "You've woke him up, talking like that, and he's coming on deck with a pair of revolving bulldogs, to begin potting us all round.

Here, who's coming below?"

"Silence, sir; and keep your places."

The carpenter stepped back behind the rest, and the next moment there rang out a most perfect imitation of the crow of a bantam c.o.c.k, which was followed by a roaring outburst of merriment from the men.