"Stand by, Mr Dixon!"
The steamer which had just entered the harbour put out her lights, but there was a glow from her funnels which revealed her movements, as it grew rapidly brighter.
"All aboard!" shouted the Captain. "Cast off the barge!" The men clambered from the barge, and the unwieldy craft was shoved away.
"Full speed ahead!"
The water was lashed by the screws, the _Swift_ vibrated like a living thing, and shot away, leaving the barges rocking on the swell she had kicked up.
"Surely, Captain," said Miss Anstrade, "that steamer is following us!"
"She is, Miss Laura, sure enough. It is the Brazilian ship _Esperanza_, Captain Don Juarez."
"Don Juarez," said the girl, in a startled whisper. "O, Santissima Maria," she added, with a pa.s.sionate cry, "that treacherous dog, the murderer of my brother! Captain Pardoe, you must not fly. Mr Webster, listen to me."
"Laura, my dear girl," said Mr Commins, laying his hand on her arm.
She shook him off with an angry gesture, and turned her flashing eyes on the Captain, while her bosom heaved.
Some of the men had heard her cry, and stood near the bridge.
"Men," she said, in quick, excited tones, "hear me! That is a Brazilian warship behind. It is commanded by a man who has done me a most fearful wrong. You are Englishmen, and I ask you--"
"Enough, madam," whispered Pardoe sternly. Then, raising his voice, "Clear the guns for action."
The Quartermaster"s shrill whistle rang out in immediate response, and in reply a flame of fire leapt out from the darkness astern, followed by the screech of a sh.e.l.l.
CHAPTER TEN.
PURSUED.
The _Swift_ was a formidable fighting ship, though built to tackle the midgets of the sea--the 130 feet torpedo boats. She had no torpedo-tube in the stem, which had been strengthened for ramming; but she carried two tubes at the stern, one four-inch quick-firing gun, two six-pounders forward, and two twelve-pounders on pedestals. Including the officers, there were twenty men to work the ship and guns, and a staff of ten firemen and engineers. The seamen were picked men, tempted by high pay, and all of them showed the unmistakable stamp of strict training and discipline. They were, in fact, men of the Naval Reserve, recruited by the Quartermaster--hard, weather-beaten, and, except when off duty, still-mouthed. The Quartermaster, Henderson, was black-bearded and swarthy, like the Captain, and it was rumoured among the men that this was not the first time the two of them had shipped in the same capacity in blockade-running in the wars of South American Republics. The conning-tower, a small chamber, fitted with tubes, k.n.o.bs, levers, and a spare wheel, and walled in with thick plates of toughened steel, was just forward of the first funnel. Beyond it was a turtle-backed deck of iron, and on either side were the six-pounders, protected by bullet-proof shields. The Captain could fire the aft torpedo guns by electricity from the conning-tower.
"Clear the guns for action, and slacken speed."
The shrill, clear notes of the whistle rang out the sharp summons, and the men sprang to their positions with an alacrity which had not marked their actions when threatened by the British warships. Then they had done their duty sullenly, with a sense of ill-omen at having to encounter their own flag; but now they were on a different footing in respect to this new foe, and eager to be at some other game than always on the run.
"If our Captain"s half as good at fighting as he is at running," growled the sailor known as d.i.c.k the Owl, for his night eye, "we"ll have a bellyful, eh, mate? and good luck to it."
"Eh, it"s a queer thing, d.i.c.k, that we navy men should be under these port-to-port cargo and hat-box carriers, but the Captain"s got red lights in his head when there"s danger afoot, and maybe he"ll be a good "un to follow."
"As good as any you would find on the bridge of any battleship afloat, my men," said Lieutenant Webster, who had been standing by un.o.bserved.
"Beg pardon, sir," said the men, touching their caps.
"That"s all right, my men; we"ve got to know each other yet," replied the Lieutenant, with a kindliness that won their hearts. "Wash down the decks first," he cried; "we"ll not go down to Davy"s locker disguised in soot, like imps of darkness. Out with the hose."
The men laughed as they screwed on the hose to the hydrants and poured on a stream of water, sweeping the grimy decks from stem to stern.
"Now, get below for a sluice and a dram," cried the cheery voice of the Lieutenant, whose idea of handling a crew was not according to naval instructions. The men trooped down the narrow companion-way laughing and joking in their excitement; but the roar of the enemy"s guns, as he fell round to port, and brought his starboard broadside to bear, was a summons that brought them tumbling on deck again ere they had time to wipe their mouths with a backhanded swipe.
"Steady, men, and to your quarters," said the Captain quietly; "all but the men for the big gun, who will go below."
Five men had taken their position about the big gun, which stood with its chase pointing up, as though looking away to the horizon for its enemy. These men stood astonished at the order.
"Below, men," said Lieutenant Webster, approaching them; "you"ll not be wanted till morning," he added, as he noted their sidelong looks.
They went down in silence; and, by the pressure of a b.u.t.ton in the conning-tower, the Captain lowered the long gun into the deck, the same machinery sliding a heavy shield of toughened steel over the opening left by its disappearance. This gun had been specially built for the catcher, and was of a larger calibre than the guns usually carried by that kind of craft. It rose or fell on a strong powerful lever, on a modified principle used for the disappearing guns; and the frame of the ship had been strengthened amidships to bear the strain. It could be loaded and fought on deck, or loaded below and fired from the conning-tower when at close quarters, and had been christened "The Ghost," after a trial made before reaching Madeira. "The Ghost" was turned out at the Elswick Works, and could fire sixty fifty-pound projectiles in ten minutes.
"We"ve laid our ghost," said Webster to Hume, who, being quite fresh to this part of the business, stood looking out into the blackness astern in a state of suspense; "we"ve laid our ghost, and must raise theirs."
"Is that you, Mr Webster?" said the Captain, leaning over the bridge.
"Yes, sir!"
"I must ask you to go to your cabin."
"To my cabin, sir?"
"Yes; I will not want you till daybreak, and you will fight all the better, then, for a good sleep. Take off the men from the six-pounders--the fewer on board the better."
Webster went below with six men from the two guns, leaving on deck eight hands in all to work the ship and the two twelve-pounders. One of these was at the wheel in the conning-tower; another was stationed forward on the lookout; and the others were in two steel towers, which were aft, about three feet above the deck, protecting the men from the hail of missiles that might be discharged from the machine guns, while their sloping sides would deflect larger projectiles.
"Mr Hume!"
"Sir."
"Join me on the bridge."
Frank mounted to the low bridge, and went close to the dark figure of the Captain for companionship. They were unprotected by steel armour, and for himself he experienced a feeling of complete helplessness. He felt that up there he was a mark for every gun aimed at the _Swift_, and that without any power of retaliation.
"It is a fine night," he said aimlessly, looking up at the starry sky.
"A very fine night, indeed," said the Captain, taking hold of his beard with both hands; "but there"ll be rain in the morning."
Frank brought his eyes down from the stare to a red eye that gleamed far astern.
The Captain took a couple of steps, and spoke down the tube: "Please attend to your fires; there are too many sparks."
Frank wondered at the Captain"s quiet tones. Usually he was sharp and rough; now he spoke as though he were asking for a second cup of tea.
"I knew it," said the Captain.
The red eye astern was dimmed by two livid flashes. Frank heard the dull reports, and then with a thrill down his back listened to the cry of the sh.e.l.ls as they sped on. The enemy had as yet done no damage, but he knew that these shrieking messengers had at last scented their foe.
He jerked his head violently as the shriek rose to a fiendish scream, and a swift rush of air swept across his face, whilst the crushing of iron behind him told that the shot had struck. It pa.s.sed through the forward funnel as though it had been a sheet of paper, and the smoke came pouring out of the holes.
"They"ve got our range at last, and it"s lucky for us they have no search-light."