Stan Lynn Part 30

"What do they say now?" cried Blunt.

"Say don'tee ca'e half mandalin b.u.t.ton fo' all pilate on livah."

"Well done!" cried the manager. "What else?"

"Allee wantee fight velly bad. Knife all cuttee cuttee like lazo'.

Wantee shave bad man head off."

"Then they mean to stop and back me up?"

"Yes. Say kill plenty mo'e pilate. No habbee big fightee long time ago, and say Wing go in boatee all alonee and get out way."

"Off with you then, my man," cried Blunt; "they're quite right. You'll be in the way.--Well, do you hear?"

Wing nodded.

"Not go 'long till Misteh young Lynn quite leady."

"But don't you understand? Mr Lynn is going to stop and fight."

"Yes. Wing stop take ca'e of um."

"What!" cried Stan, laughing.

"Yes. Wing tellee old Lynn and Uncle Jeffley takee gleat ca'e young Lynn. How takee gleat ca'e if Wing lun away in boat? Wing go 'top along takee ca'e young Lynn."

"No, no, Wing. You had better go and get out of danger," said Stan warmly.

"Young Lynn talkee talkee big piecee nonsense stuff. Wing go back in boat Hai-Hai; Uncle Jeff say, 'Hullo, you! What double d.i.c.kens you do along young Lynn?' What Wing say? ''Top topside house fightee fightee.' Misteh Olivee say, 'Why Wing not 'top topside house fight too, kill pilate, bling young Lynn quite safe?' Misteh Olivee old Lynn quite light. Wing no go lun away in boat. Young Lynn come, Wing go.

Young Lynn no go, Wing 'top along takee ca'e young Lynn."

"Stop, then," cried the manager abruptly, "and let's see whether you can fight."

"Yes," said the Chinaman coolly enough. "'Top 'long young Lynn. Fight muchee. Kill plenty pilate."

"There! we've all talked enough," cried the manager, turning up his sleeves. "Now then for work.--You, Wing, go right up to the top of the big warehouse and watch the river. As soon as you see the tip of a junk-sail you'll give us warning."

"Misteh Blunt lendee Wing two-eye pull-out gla.s.s?"

"My double telescope? Yes, take it; and mind you let us know in time.-- Now, Stan Lynn, we've got some man's work to do. You can't afford to be a boy any longer. This way.--Now, my lads, follow on. If the bloodthirsty wretches will only give us plenty of time they shall have such a reception as will open their diagonal slits of eyes."

Five minutes later Wing was perched at the very top of the great warehouse, with his eyes glued to Blunt's lorgnette, and his blue cotton frock filling out in the breeze and shrinking again in the most grotesque fas.h.i.+on. One minute the Chinaman was blown out like a man in the transition state of turning into a balloon. The next minute he was convex one side, concave the other, while directly after he seemed to have been furnished with an enormously huge bun upon his shoulders. But he noticed neither wind nor suns.h.i.+ne; his eyes were strained up the main reach of the river, and the gla.s.s was sweeping bend after bend in search of the coming danger in the shape of the top of some tall matting junk-sail seen across the country where the great river pursued its serpentine course.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"NOW THEN, CARTRIDGES!"

There was an end to peaceful mercantile pursuits at the great warehouse and wharf, and all was hurry and bustle, but with little confusion, for Blunt had suddenly become military in his orders and issue of directions; while, full of excitement now, Stan dashed at the task in hand, proving himself a worthy lieutenant to the fighting manager. The men began busily handling boxes and bales, and at first sight it seemed as if they were preparing to load a trading-junk with the contents of the storehouse, so actively were they engaged in bearing out silk-bales and tea-chests; but the pleasant herb which cheers but does not inebriate was to be put to a very different purpose.

"You take that job in hand, Lynn," cried Blunt, "and make the fellows plant the chests down right along the front, just as if you were building a wall of blocks of stone; but after the second row is placed, leave a loophole between every second and third chest so that we can fire through, while I set to work and make a breastwork with the silk-bales at every door and window. No bullets or shot that the enemy can fire will go through the soft, elastic silk.--Work away, my lads."

Englishmen and Chinamen cheered together, and worked with might and main, every one feeling that it was a race against time, but growing lighter-hearted as they went on, the materials being so close at hand; and as they were brought down from above or taken from the huge stacks on the ground-floor, they were rapidly formed outside into a light but strong loopholed wall extending along the wharf and facing the sea. One easy enough to tear down, no doubt, if the enemy determinedly faced the storm of bullets poured upon them from the loopholes, but good enough to protect the defenders and keep the a.s.sailants in check for a time; while, when it began to yield, the besieged party had only to rush into the warehouse offices and dwelling, close and barricade the doors, to help to defend what formed the keep or stronghold of the mercantile fort, and continue the firing from behind the silk-bales advantageously placed as breastworks behind the first-floor windows, where they could fire down upon any of the pirates who tried to shelter themselves behind the tea-chest wall.

It was wonderful with what rapidity the wall and breastworks rose, while the Chinese carpenters, whose general work was the making of the chests, sawed and hammered away, barricading the lower windows, and placing planks ready for closing up the two doors that were left for temporary use.

"They'll never get past the chest wall," panted Stan excitedly as Blunt came down from where he had been showing his men how to wedge the silk-bales together so as to stand tightly in the windows.

"Don't you be too sure, my boy," said Blunt. "They are regular fiends, these half-wild Chinamen, and they'll come swarming over the wall like monkeys."

"And I thought it so strong that nothing but fire would have any effect upon it," said Stan gloomily.

"Fire would have hardly any effect upon it," said Blunt, "unless there was a strong wind. The chests might burn, but the tea would only smoulder away."

"I am disappointed," said Stan, wrinkling up his forehead.

"Not a bit. I'm delighted with what you have done. It is strong, but a party of our sappers and miners would laugh at it all and say it was as weak as so much cobweb."

"But I say, if they come, how will they attack?"

"Like civilised savages: pour in a hail of swivel-gun b.a.l.l.s, sc.r.a.p-iron, and pebbles from the junks till they land, and then come on with spears, pitchforks, tridents, and swords. Some of them will have long _jingals_--matchlocks, you know--and no doubt muskets and rifles as well. Then, too, I dare say they will bring plenty of stink-pots to throw--earthen jars full of burning pitch. We shall have a high old time of it, Stan, my lad, as soon as the fight begins."

"Oh!" exclaimed Stan suddenly, with a look of dismay.

"Hullo!" cried Blunt, looking at his companion in a peculiar way.

"Beginning to think it will be too much of a good thing?"

"No-o-o-o!" cried Stan angrily. "That I wasn't. I was thinking of the stink-pots."

"Well, of course they'll stink, as 'tis their nature to," said Blunt merrily.

"Of course they will; but burning pitch--it will stick."

"Pitch has a habit of doing so, my son," said Blunt mockingly.

"Oh, you don't see what I mean," cried Stan excitedly. "The warehouse-- wood--they'll set the whole place on fire and burn us out."

_Phee-ew_!

Blunt gave forth a long-drawn whistle.

"By Saint Jingo, the great fighting-man," he cried, "I never thought of that Stan Lynn, you're a regular Todleben--a prince of engineering defence. Why, of course! They'd roast us out, and it would hurt horribly, without reckoning how they would poke us back with their tridents to go on cooking if we tried to run away."

"You see now, then?" said Stan.

"See? Yes. I can almost feel. I am glad you thought of that. All right. We'll have half-a-dozen casks in the middle of the big office, and I'll set a line of men to work across the wharf with buckets to fill the casks from the river."