The Black Bar Part 2

As he spoke the light disappeared, and a fresh one appeared from astern.

They showed their own lantern, and their signal was answered, the second cutter running up close to them a few minutes later, while the lieutenant was boiling over with impatience, for he had been compelled to check his own boat's way.

"What is it?" he said to his second in command.

"See that light ash.o.r.e, sir?"

"No; I saw one out at sea; it's the slaver. Follow us at once."

"But that light was ash.o.r.e, sir."

"Mr Ramsay, do you think I'm blind? Mr Howlett, are you there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Didn't you see a light off to sea?"

"No, sir; ash.o.r.e."

"I tell you it was at sea, and it is the craft we are after. Now, my lads, give way."

_Crash_.

"Why, we're among the trees again."

"Yes, sir; sh.o.r.e's this way," said the c.o.xswain.

"Then where in the name of wonder is the sea?" said the lieutenant, in an angry whisper, as the tide bore them along, with the men's oars rattling among the mangrove stems.

"I think we've got into a side channel," said Mark.

"Rubbis.h.!.+ How could we?"

"Beg pardon, Mr Russell, sir," came from the boat astern; "we've got into a sort of ca.n.a.l place with the tide running like a mill stream.

Hadn't we better lie to till daybreak?"

"Better sink ourselves," growled the lieutenant. "Here are we regularly caught in a maze, and that schooner getting comfortably away to sea."

"'Fraid so, sir," said the boatswain. "That there was a light showed ash.o.r.e to warn 'em that we were in the river; some of 'em must have heard."

The lieutenant made no answer, but ordered the men to back water, and for the next four hours they were fighting the swift river, trying to extricate themselves from the muddy system of branches into which they had been carried in the darkness, but in vain; and at last, in despair, they made fast to the mangroves, and waited for day.

Light came at last, piercing the white fog in which they lay; and in a short time they were back in the wide river, close to the sea, dejected, weary, and wondering that they could have been so confused in the darkness.

"Nice wigging we shall have, Vandean," said the lieutenant; "the skipper will sarcastically tell me he had better have sent one of the s.h.i.+p's boys in command. But there, I did my best. Ugh! how chilly it feels!"

An hour later they were alongside the _Nautilus_, which lay at the edge of a bank of mist which covered the sea, while sh.o.r.eward all was now growing clear from a gentle breeze springing up.

The lieutenant was a true prophet, for the captain almost used his officer's words.

"Then you haven't seen a sign of the schooner?"

"No, sir; but we smelt it."

"What!" cried the captain.

"Sail ho!" shouted the man at the look-out, and in a moment all was excitement, for, about a mile away, down what looked like a clear lane through the white fog, was a two-masted vessel, crowded with sail; and as rapidly as possible the boats were hoisted up, and the _Nautilus_ was in pursuit.

But hardly had she careened over under the press of sail than the fog shut the vessel from their sight, and for the next two hours she was invisible, while the captain of the _Nautilus_ had to lie to, for fear of some slippery trick on the part of what was undoubtedly the slaver, since she was more likely to make for the shelter of a creek than to risk safety in flight.

But the wind was not favourable for this manoeuvre, and toward mid-day the sea grew clear, and there was the slaver plainly visible miles away, sailing out west, while the _Nautilus_ crowded on every st.i.tch of canvas in pursuit.

A stern chase is a long one, says the proverb, and night came with the craft still miles away, but the sky was brilliantly clear, and the moon shone forth, showing the white-sailed schooner in a strangely weird fas.h.i.+on far across the flas.h.i.+ng sea.

"We're gaining on her," said Bob Howlett, who was as full of excitement as the men, while Mark felt a strange suffocating sensation at the chest as he strained his eyes and watched the swift schooner, whose captain tried every manoeuvre to escape the dogged pursuit of the Queen's cruiser.

"Hang it all! he's a plucky one," said Bob, as the chase went on. "He must be taken, but he won't own to it."

"Thought a s.h.i.+p was a she," said Mark.

"Well, I was talking about the skipper, wasn't I?"

"A man doesn't want to lose his s.h.i.+p, of course."

"Nor his cargo," cried Bob. "There, give it up, old fellow; we're overhauling you fast."

It was a fact: the _Nautilus_, with all her studding sails set, was creeping nearer and nearer, till at last, amid no little excitement on the part of the two mids.h.i.+pmen, a gun was shotted, run out, and a turn or two given to the wheel. Then, as the _Nautilus_ swerved a little from her course, the word was given, and a shot went skipping across the moonlit sea, splas.h.i.+ng up the water in a thousand scintillations, and taking its final plunge far ahead of the schooner.

Every eye and every gla.s.s was fixed upon the slaver, for such she was without a doubt, since she kept on, paying no heed to the shot and its summons to heave to; and after a second had been sent in chase, the captain gave the word, and a steady fire was kept up at the spars and rigging.

"I can't fire at her hull, Staples," the captain said.

"No, it would be slaughtering the poor wretches down below; never mind, sir, we'll capture her directly. She's ours, safe."

"Then the sooner the better," said Bob to his companion.

The firing continued, and the crews of the two guns which sent their shot in chase vied with each other in their efforts to hit a spar and bring down the sails of the schooner; but they tried in vain. Sails were pierced, but no other harm was done, and the slaver kept gallantly on.

But all her efforts were in vain. The _Nautilus_ crept on and on, nearer and nearer, till she was only about a quarter of a mile away, and then the slaver altered her course, and gained a little by her quick handling. But the _Nautilus_ was after again, and after two or three of these manoeuvres Captain Maitland was able to antic.i.p.ate her next attempt to escape, and all seemed over.

"I wonder how many poor wretches she has on board?" tried Mark, excitedly, as the word was pa.s.sed for one of the boat's crews to be ready for boarding as soon as the slaver captain struck the flag he had run up in defiance.

"Hundreds perhaps," said Bob, coolly; "but we haven't got her yet."

"No; but they're going to give in now. I can see the captain quite plainly," said Mark, who was using a gla.s.s. "What are they doing? Oh, Bob, look!"

For through the gla.s.s he saw what seemed to be a struggle on the moonlit deck, and directly after there was a splash.

"Great heavens!" cried Captain Maitland. "Staples! Look! They're throwing the poor fellows overboard."