Fitz the Filibuster Part 23

"I heard part of what he said, but my Spanish is very bad, especially if it's one of these mongrel half Indian-bred fellows who is talking. You had better tell me plainly how matters stand."

"Very well. Horribly badly. Things have gone wrong since we left England. Our friends were too venturesome, and they were regularly trapped, with the result that they were beaten back out of the town, and the President's men seized the fort, got hold of their pa.s.swords and the signalling flags that they had in the place, and answered our signals, so that they took me in. If it had not been for his man's coming to-night with a message from Don Ramon, we should have sailed right into the trap as soon as it was day, and been lying under the enemy's guns."

"Narrow escape, then," said the mate.

"Nearly ruin," was the reply.

"But hold hard a minute. Suppose, after all, this is a bit of a trick, a cooked-up lie to cheat us."

"Not likely," said the skipper. "What good would it do the enemy to send us away when they had all we brought under their hand? Besides, this messenger had a pa.s.sword to give me that must have been right."

"You know best," said the mate gruffly. "Then what next?"

"Up anchor at once, and we sail round the foreland yonder till we can open out the other valley and the river's mouth twenty miles along the coast. Don Ramon and his men are gathering at Velova, and they want our munition badly there."

"Right," said the mate abruptly. "Up anchor at once? Make a big offing, I suppose?"

"No, we must hug the coast. I dare say they will have a gunboat patrolling some distance out--a steamer--and with these varying winds and calms we should be at their mercy. If we are taken, Don Ramon's cause is ruined, poor fellow, and the country will be at the mercy of that half-savage, President Villarayo. Brute! He deserves to be hung!"

"I don't like it," said Burgess gruffly.

"You don't like it!" cried the skipper. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Why, from here to Velova close in it's all rock-shoal and wild current. It's almost madness to try and hug the coast."

"Oh, I see. But it's got to be done, Burgess. You didn't take soundings and bearings miles each way for nothing last year."

"Tchah!" growled the mate. "One wants an apprentices.h.i.+p to this coast.

I'll do what you want, of course, but I won't be answerable for taking the _Teal_ safely into that next port."

"Oh yes, you will," said the skipper quietly. "If I didn't think you would I should try to do it myself. Now then, there's no time to waste.

Look yonder. There's something coming out of the port now--a steamer, I believe, from the way she moves, and most likely it's in reply to our signals, and they're coming out to give us a surprise." The mate stood for a few moments peering over the black waters in the direction of the indicated lights.

"Yes," he growled, "that's a steamer; one of their gunboats, I should say, and they are coming straight for here."

"How does he know that?" whispered Fitz, as the skipper and the mate now moved away.

"The lights were some distance apart," replied Poole, "and they've swung round till one's close behind the other. Now look, whatever the steamer is she is coming straight for here. Fortunately there is a nice pleasant breeze, but I hope we shall not get upon any of these fang-like rocks."

"Yes, I hope so too," said Fitz excitedly; and then Poole left him, and he stood listening to the clicking of the capstan as the anchor was raised, while some of the crew busily hoisted sail, so that in a few minutes' time the schooner began to heel over from the pressure of the wind and glide away, showing that the anchor was clear of the soft ooze in which it had lain.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

TICKLISH.

Burgess the mate went forward, to stand for a few minutes looking into the offing, before going back aft to say a word or two to the man at the wheel, as the schooner was now gliding rapidly on, and then walked sharply to where the skipper was giving orders to the men, which resulted in a big gaff sail being run up, to balloon out and increase the schooner's rate of speed through the water.

A short consultation ensued, another man was put on the look-out forward, and the mate went back to take the wheel himself.

"Ah, that's better," said Poole quietly.

"What's better?" asked Fitz.

"Old Burgess taking the wheel himself. It's a bad enough place here in the daylight, but it's awful in the darkness, and we are not quite so likely to be carried by some current crash on to a rock."

"Then why, in the name of common-sense, don't we lay-to till daylight?"

"Because it wouldn't be common-sense to wait till that steamer comes gliding up, and takes possession of the _Teal_. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes; you would all be made prisoners, and I should be free," cried Fitz, laughing. "My word, Master Poole, I don't want you to have a topper first, but I'd let you see then what it is to be a prisoner aboard the _Silver Teal_."

"Oh yes, of course, I know," replied Poole mockingly. "But you don't know everything. When I asked you if you knew what it meant it was this, that our cargo would go into the wrong hands and about ruin Don Ramon's cause."

"Well, what does that matter?"

"Everything. Ramon, who has been striking for freedom and all that's good and right, would be beaten, and the old President Don Villarayo would carry on as before. He is as bad a tyrant as ever was at the head of affairs, and it's to help turn him out of the chair that my father and his Spanish friends are making this venture."

"Well, that's nothing to me," said Fitz. "I am on the side of right."

"Well, that is the side of right."

"Oh no," said Fitz. "According to the rule of these things that's the side of right that has the strongest hold."

"Bah!" said Poole. "That would never do, unless it is when we get the strongest hold, and that we mean to do."

"Well, I hope old Burgess, as you call him, won't run this wretched schooner crash on to a rock. You might as well hand me out a life-belt, in case."

"Oh, there's time enough for that," said Poole coolly.

"I'll take care of you. But I say, look! That gunboat is coming on two knots for our one. Can't you see?"

"I can see her lights, of course, but it doesn't seem to me that she is getting closer."

"She is, though, and she's bound to overtake us, for old Burgess is keeping right along the main channel. Why, if I didn't know who was at the wheel," cried the lad excitedly, "I should be ready to think that the steersman had proved treacherous, and was playing into the enemy's hands. Oh, here's father! I say, dad, do you see how fast that gunboat is overhauling us?"

"Oh yes," said the skipper coolly. "It's all right, my boy; Burgess knows what he's about. He wants to get a little more offing, but it's getting nearly time to lie over on the other tack."

He had hardly spoken when the mate at the wheel called out--

"Now!"

The skipper gave a short, sharp order or two, the men sprang to the sheets, the schooner was turned right up into the wind, the sails began to s.h.i.+ver, and directly after they began to fill on the other tack, were sheeted home, and the _Teal_ lay so over to starboard that Fitz made a s.n.a.t.c.h at a rope so as to steady himself and keep his feet.

"Why, he'll have the sea over her side," whispered Fitz excitedly.

"Very likely," said Poole coolly. "Ah, you don't know how we can sail."