Syd Belton Part 84

"We don't want a lot of bloodshed, Roy," said Syd, as they congratulated one another over the refreshment they were glad to take.

"No; but I suppose we ought to have slaughtered a lot of them. We could."

"My father used to tell my uncle, the admiral, that he was the greatest commander who could achieve a victory with the smallest loss of life."

"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice behind him; "but I've know'd your father send some awful broadsides and rakings into the enemy's s.h.i.+ps. Why, when we've gone aboard arter to take the furren captain's sword, I've seed their deck all slippery with blood."

"And I'm glad those stones are not."

"Very well, sir, if you're satisfied, I am; but I want to know what's gone o' my Pan. Hasn't hidden hisself in that water-cave, has he?"

"I have not seen him," said Syd, and with Roylance he climbed up to the flagstaff to see the enemy's two crowded boats return to the frigate's side, after which the French captain made a slight change in his position; and as they watched they saw two fresh boats lowered and row away, and then they were recalled.

Then came a long spell of waiting in miserable inaction till toward sunset, when the two boats put out again, spent a little time sounding close up to the rocks where Roylance was rescued, and were again recalled.

"What does that mean, sir?" said Syd, as he told all this to the lieutenant, who, as he lay helpless, eagerly listened to every word.

"I don't quite see, my lad," he said. "A trick, probably, to take off your attention. But be well on your guard, for, depend upon it, they will try to surprise you to-night, and come prepared with ladders of some kind for the escalade."

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

The night was brilliant starlight, and the strictest watch was kept, but hour after hour went by, and there was not a sound; no dark shadow creeping over the water from the frigate, which lay anch.o.r.ed, with her lights showing reflections on the smooth sea.

Everything was in readiness to give the enemy a good reception if they came, and in spite of his weakness, the boatswain rose from where he lay on a folded-up sail beside one of the heaps of ball, to see if the light in the lanthorn by his head was burning, and handy for the slow matches to fire the guns.

"That there swab has gone down into his old hole by the water, sir, so as to save his skin," said Strake, on one of the occasions when Syd was going his rounds, "and here he might be o' no end of use saving his poor father. You won't say I arn't to use the rope's-end arter this, sir."

"Hadn't you better go up to the hospital and lie down, Strake?" replied Syd; "you are tired out."

"So are you, sir: so's all on us. But if I went and had a caulk just when the enemy might come, what should I say arterwards when I met the skipper?"

"But your injuries are such as sent you into hospital."

"Where I warn't going to stay, sir. Been up to the flagstaff, sir?"

"I have just come from there, and I have been with Mr Roylance, and had a talk with Mr Dallas. All's well."

"Seems well, Mr Syd, sir," whispered the boatswain, so as not to be heard by the men; "but I'm sure all aren't well. They're trying to dodge us, sir, and you see if they don't come and board us just afore daylight, when they think we're asleep. Tell them chaps at the look-out to keep their eyes open, and be on the kwe weave, as the Frenchies call it, for boats sneaking up in the dark. You've got two there."

"Yes, Strake, and each man has a gla.s.s, and those very instructions."

"What a horficer he will make," muttered the boatswain; and then the watch went on, with the men peering through the transparent darkness at the waves heaving over the little natural pier, and the bright stars broken up into spangles on the smooth surface of the sea.

"Rather queer about Terry," said Roylance in a whisper, as Syd joined him where he was leaning over the rough parapet, watching the surface for the first sign of the enemy.

"Very," said Syd.

"I can't understand it."

"I can," thought Syd, as he recalled what he had seen; and in the full belief that his messmate was heartily ashamed of his treacherous conduct of the previous day, he went softly up to find the lieutenant sleeping peacefully. He stood looking at him for a few moments, and then went up to the empty battery, to stand looking down over the precipice, before gazing up towards the flagstaff.

"All well, Rogers?" he said in a low, distinct voice.

"All well, sir," came back from far on high. "Nothing left the s.h.i.+p.

We could ha' seen by the broken water. It brimes to-night, and we should have seen their oars stirring the water up."

Note: "brimes" means "is phosph.o.r.escent."

Syd went thoughtfully back, feeling so exhausted and drowsy that twice over he stumbled, and shook his head to get rid of the sleepy feeling, for it had been a terribly trying and anxious time.

"I'll go and talk to Strake," he said to himself; and pulling out a biscuit, he began to nibble it to take off the sensation of faintness from which he suffered, as he began wondering whether the French would attack them that night, or come prepared the next day with ladders to scale the natural wall which was their chief defence.

"All well, Strake?" he said, as he reached the place again where the boatswain was lying down.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Halt! who goes there?"

"On'y me," cried a hoa.r.s.e, excited voice, in a whisper, accompanied by a panting noise. "Where's father?"

"What, Pan-y-mar?" growled the boatswain. "Just you come here, you ugly-looking young swab."

"Hush, father!" whispered the boy, coming out of the darkness. "Give's a cutlash; the French is coming."

"What? Where?" said Syd, eagerly. "To your guns, my lads."

"No, no," cried the boy, in a hurried whisper. "Not that way; they're coming over the top there."

"He's been dreaming," growled the boatswain. "What d'yer mean, you dog?"

"I arn't been asleep," cried Pan, angrily; "and I'm so hungry."

"Tell me: what do you mean?" cried Syd.

"I've been a-watching o' Mr Terry, sir. He went down on the rocks over yonder, and I lay down and see him make signs to the French s.h.i.+p, and two boats come out and rowed in close to where he was a-hiding down in one o' them big cracks like I hid in and found the water."

"Yes; go on," whispered Syd, whose heart sank with apprehension.

"And he talked to 'em, and they talked to him, and then rowed back to the French s.h.i.+p."

"What did they say?"

"I dunno; I was too far off to hear."

"Well, go on."