The Nameless Island Part 23

"Thanks!"

Blight picked up the weapon and thrust it with a.s.sumed carelessness into his belt; then, bidding the crew of the yawl good night, he stepped into the dinghy.

Hardly had the sun set, than the wearied crew retired to the cabin for rest and refreshment.

Ellerton was awake, feverish, and at intervals in great pain. Quexo still slumbered. Andy and Terence were sleepily nodding their heads in an almost vain endeavour to keep awake.

Mr. McKay, though utterly done up, announced his intention of keeping watch on deck the moment he had finished supper.

Just as the moon rose, a blood-curdling roar came from the island.

Instantly the two McKays and Terence rushed on deck. Fires gleamed in the centre of the wretched village, and around the flames danced a hundred natives, yelling, screaming, and invoking their idols.

"What are they up to, pater?" asked Andy, as his father scanned the sh.o.r.e with a pair of night-gla.s.ses. "Let me have a look when you've finished."

"You had better not," was the reply. "Take my word for it."

The lads understood. They were fairly well acquainted with the hideous orgies that are practised on these islands.

"And to think we helped those villains," remarked Andy.

"Well," admitted his father, "it was, as I said before, the only course open to us. Now, I think all danger is past. They are not strong enough to attempt to seize our island, so we can go back with easy minds."

"I hope so," returned his son. "But my word, it's cost us something!"

"I can't understand that chap Blight," said Terence. "He seemed mighty curious to know how many of us lived on the island."

"You told him?"

"Yes! I let the cat out of the bag, I fear."

"You did?" replied Mi. McKay gravely. "I'm sorry; but perhaps there's no harm done. However, we'll set sail to-morrow morning in any case.

I, for one, will not be sorry to say good-bye to Mr. Blight. Now, lads, you must turn in. I'll be all right here; and to-morrow, all being well, I'll make up arrears of sleep."

Left to himself, Mr. McKay sat in the c.o.c.kpit and watched the orgies ash.o.r.e till the fires died out and the sounds of the wors.h.i.+ppers ceased. Half-an-hour later he appeared, to all intents and purposes, to be lying in the stern sheets fast asleep.

At about three in the morning the moon, now high in the heavens, threw her beams upon a strange drama.

Swimming with eel-like swiftness and silence towards the unguarded yawl came three men. Two were natives, the third a white man, and each had a glittering knife betwixt his teeth.

Grasping the boat's stern, Blight (for it was he) listened intently.

Then, hearing only the sounds of deep slumber arising from the cabin, he cautiously placed his foot over the bobstay, and with slow and stealthy movement hoisted himself clear of the water.

Having made sure that the deck was deserted, he climbed softly upon the fo'c'sle and proceeded to unfasten his revolver, which he had secured to the top of his head by means of a strip of cocoa fibre.

Presently he was joined by one of the natives, and at a short interval by the second. Creeping towards the open skylight the miscreant listened once more. The loud ticking of the cabin chronometer and the deep, regular breathing of the sleepers, alone broke the stillness.

Suddenly Blight perceived Mr. McKay's form lying with his head buried in his arm upon one of the seats of the c.o.c.kpit. This was awkward. He raised his revolver, then reflected that ere he could reach the cabin after firing the fatal shot the occupants would be aroused.

Sprawling full length upon the cabin-top, Blight watched the slumbering victim with considerable misgivings, till realising that Mr. McKay was sound asleep, he raised himself upon his elbow, and beckoned to the two natives. Uplifting his knife, Blight made an imaginary thrust, then pointed meaningly towards the sleeper.

Just then a shark glided past the boat at barely an oar's length.

Rising to the surface it turned on its back and snapped at some floating object. The sharp, almost metallic snap of those powerful jaws filled the would-be murderer with alarm. He realised that the sleeper might awake, and also that his own retreat was cut off.

The sweat poured in torrents from his brow and ran down his chalky cheeks. But the sleeping man stirred not.

Rea.s.sured, Blight again signed to the natives. Knife in hand the two glided along the narrow waterways, dropping noiselessly into the c.o.c.kpit, and crept towards their unsuspecting prey.

Blight, revolver in hand, followed, stopping by the side of the cabin bulkhead, ready to dive into the cabin and complete the murderous business the moment the fatal blow was struck.

Like panthers the two natives launched themselves upon their victim, their knives flashed in the moonlight; the next instant they were buried to the hilt in the body of the sleeper.

Ere the weapons could be withdrawn, two shots rang out in quick succession. One of the natives fell face foremost across the coaming of the c.o.c.kpit, the other gave a spring and plunged lifeless into the sea.

Then, before Blight could realise the sudden turn of affairs, he felt the contact of the muzzle of a smoking revolver against his temple.

"Hands up, Blight!" exclaimed Mr. McKay resolutely.

The would-be murderer's weapon fell from his nerveless grasp and immediately his hands were raised high above his head.

The noise of the firing had aroused the sleeping inmates of the cabin, and Andy, Terence, and even Ellerton rushed through the narrow doorway into the well.

"Get hold of a few pieces of las.h.i.+ng and secure the rascal," said Mr.

McKay calmly.

"You are not hurt?" asked his son anxiously.

"Hurt? Not a bit of it. No thanks to this beauty, though. See!"

And, still keeping the weapon at the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin's head, he pointed to the made-up figure of himself, in which the hilts of the two knives glittered in the moonlight.

Andy and Terence lost no time in securing the ankles of the prisoner.

Then ordering him to lower his hands, the lads deftly lashed his elbows together behind his back.

"So, Mr. James Blight, alias 'Chinese Pork,' I find your delightful character has undergone little change during the last twenty years.

One would have thought that your unpleasant experiences in connection with the _Sea Belle_----"

"What d'ye mean?" gasped the prisoner, his eyes rolling heavily in his terror.

"I beg you not to interrupt. A connection with the _Sea Belle_ would have taught anyone but an utter villain or a fool a lifelong lesson. I will pa.s.s over those minor affairs at Boni Harbour and Fortescue Strait, though by mentioning them you can realise that I know a good deal of your former career. What you've been doing since is of little consequence, though I'll wager that your existence will not bear investigation. Now, to complete your record, you've been caught in the act of attempting to treacherously slay your white--well, I won't say friends. Thanks to a merciful Providence, your schemes were thwarted.

I am now going to keep you in custody till I can hand you over to justice at Brisbane, where you will have a fair trial and be allowed to answer to a number of various crimes."

Mr. McKay paused to note the effect of his accusation, then he continued:

"I am going to keep you a close prisoner in the fo'c'sle till we return to our island. You will then be kept in confinement ash.o.r.e till such time as we are able to reach some island under the control of a recognised British governor. Have you anything to say?"

The ex-pearler maintained a sullen silence, and, without offering any resistance, he was carried into the fo'c'sle and locked in, there to meditate on the fate in store for him.

"Ellerton, go back to your bunk. You ought not to be here," exclaimed Mr. McKay.