For the Term of His Natural Life Part 6

"There, they'll see that, I expect!" he said, as the ghastly flame rose, extinguis.h.i.+ng the stars for a moment, only to let them appear again brighter in a darker heaven.

"Mr. Best--lower and man the quarter-boats! Mr. Frere--you can go in one, if you like, and take a volunteer or two from those grey jackets of yours amids.h.i.+ps. I shall want as many hands as I can spare to man the long-boat and cutter, in case we want 'em. Steady there, lads! Easy!"

and as the first eight men who could reach the deck parted to the larboard and starboard quarter-boats, Frere ran down on the main-deck.

Mrs. Vickers, of course, was in the way, and gave a genteel scream as Blunt rudely pushed past her with a scarce-muttered apology; but her maid was standing erect and motionless, by the quarter-railing, and as the captain paused for a moment to look round him, he saw her dark eyes fixed on him admiringly. He was, as he said, over forty-two, burly and grey-haired, but he blushed like a girl under her approving gaze.

Nevertheless, he said only, "That wench is a trump!" and swore a little.

Meanwhile Maurice Frere had pa.s.sed the sentry and leapt down into the 'tween decks. At his nod, the prison door was thrown open. The air was hot, and that strange, horrible odour peculiar to closely-packed human bodies filled the place. It was like coming into a full stable.

He ran his eye down the double tier of bunks which lined the side of the s.h.i.+p, and stopped at the one opposite him.

There seemed to have been some disturbance there lately, for instead of the six pair of feet which should have protruded therefrom, the gleam of the bull's-eye showed but four.

"What's the matter here, sentry?" he asked.

"Prisoner ill, sir. Doctor sent him to hospital."

"But there should be two."

The other came from behind the break of the berths. It was Rufus Dawes.

He held by the side as he came, and saluted.

"I felt sick, sir, and was trying to get the scuttle open."

The heads were all raised along the silent line, and eyes and ears were eager to see and listen. The double tier of bunks looked terribly like a row of wild beast cages at that moment.

Maurice Frere stamped his foot indignantly.

"Sick! What are you sick about, you malingering dog? I'll give you something to sweat the sickness out of you. Stand on one side here!"

Rufus Dawes, wondering, obeyed. He seemed heavy and dejected, and pa.s.sed his hand across his forehead, as though he would rub away a pain there.

"Which of you fellows can handle an oar?" Frere went on. "There, curse you, I don't want fifty! Three'll do. Come on now, make haste!"

The heavy door clashed again, and in another instant the four "volunteers" were on deck. The crimson glow was turning yellow now, and spreading over the sky.

"Two in each boat!" cries Blunt. "I'll burn a blue light every hour for you, Mr. Best; and take care they don't swamp you. Lower away, lads!" As the second prisoner took the oar of Frere's boat, he uttered a groan and fell forward, recovering himself instantly. Sarah Purfoy, leaning over the side, saw the occurrence.

"What is the matter with that man?" she said. "Is he ill?"

Pine was next to her, and looked out instantly. "It's that big fellow in No. 10," he cried. "Here, Frere!"

But Frere heard him not. He was intent on the beacon that gleamed ever brighter in the distance. "Give way, my lads!" he shouted. And amid a cheer from the s.h.i.+p, the two boats shot out of the bright circle of the blue light, and disappeared into the darkness.

Sarah Purfoy looked at Pine for an explanation, but he turned abruptly away. For a moment the girl paused, as if in doubt; and then, ere his retreating figure turned to retrace its steps, she cast a quick glance around, and slipping down the ladder, made her way to the 'tween decks.

The iron-studded oak barricade that, loop-holed for musketry, and perforated with plated trapdoor for sterner needs, separated soldiers from prisoners, was close to her left hand, and the sentry at its padlocked door looked at her inquiringly. She laid her little hand on his big rough one--a sentry is but mortal--and opened her brown eyes at him.

"The hospital," she said. "The doctor sent me"; and before he could answer, her white figure vanished down the hatch, and pa.s.sed round the bulkhead, behind which lay the sick man.

CHAPTER IV. THE HOSPITAL.

The hospital was nothing more nor less than a part.i.tioned portion of the lower deck, filched from the s.p.a.ce allotted to the soldiers. It ran fore and aft, coming close to the stern windows, and was, in fact, a sort of artificial stern cabin. At a pinch, it might have held a dozen men.

Though not so hot as in the prison, the atmosphere of the lower deck was close and unhealthy, and the girl, pausing to listen to the subdued hum of conversation coming from the soldiers' berths, turned strangely sick and giddy. She drew herself up, however, and held out her hand to a man who came rapidly across the misshapen shadows, thrown by the sulkily swinging lantern, to meet her. It was the young soldier who had been that day sentry at the convict gangway.

"Well, miss," he said, "I am here, yer see, waiting for yer."

"You are a good boy, Miles; but don't you think I'm worth waiting for?"

Miles grinned from ear to ear.

"Indeed you be," said he.

Sarah Purfoy frowned, and then smiled.

"Come here, Miles; I've got something for you."

Miles came forward, grinning harder.

The girl produced a small object from the pocket of her dress. If Mrs.

Vickers had seen it she would probably have been angry, for it was nothing less than the captain's brandy-flask.

"Drink," said she. "It's the same as they have upstairs, so it won't hurt you."

The fellow needed no pressing. He took off half the contents of the bottle at a gulp, and then, fetching a long breath, stood staring at her.

"That's prime!"

"Is it? I dare say it is." She had been looking at him with unaffected disgust as he drank. "Brandy is all you men understand." Miles--still sucking in his breath--came a pace closer.

"Not it," said he, with a twinkle in his little pig's eyes. "I understand something else, miss, I can tell yer."

The tone of the sentence seemed to awaken and remind her of her errand in that place. She laughed as loudly and as merrily as she dared, and laid her hand on the speaker's arm. The boy--for he was but a boy, one of those many ill-reared country louts who leave the plough-tail for the musket, and, for a s.h.i.+lling a day, experience all the "pomp and circ.u.mstance of glorious war"--reddened to the roots of his closely-cropped hair.

"There, that's quite close enough. You're only a common soldier, Miles, and you mustn't make love to me."

"Not make love to yer!" says Miles. "What did yer tell me to meet yer here for then?"

She laughed again.

"What a practical animal you are! Suppose I had something to say to you?"

Miles devoured her with his eyes.