Part 21

From the bushes below the great black-bearded man suddenly rose up. With curses and blows he rallied his men, and they turned and faced upwards. Down came Captain Hunter through a mob of them, cutting his way to me. He had a long-handled axe in his hand. Circling it round and round his head, striking to left and right, he was carving a way through them, and they gave way and fled helter-skelter, to leave him confronted by the huge European. I saw Captain Hunter's face light up with a fierce joy, and he raised his axe for a mighty stroke; but the European fired his revolver point-blank, the axe dropped from his hand, his arms sank to his side, he stared stupidly in front of him, the revolver cracked again, and, with a sob, I saw Captain Hunter disappear beneath a howling mass of Chinamen, who turned again with a yell of triumph. But by this time his marines had poured over the breast-work and flung themselves in front of his body, and that was the last I saw of that awful hilltop--the little knot of marines fighting slowly backwards towards their breast-work, and carrying Captain Hunter with them. I cared for nothing then. I did not even mind those brutes sitting on me.

Chinese came flying past, some shrieking with fright, others screaming with pain. One or two, when they saw me, tried to spring at me; but the two men drove them off, then lifted me up like a doll and carried me farther away, covering me with a Chinaman's tunic to prevent me from being recognized. They stripped it from a native lying wounded and dying in the bushes.

The noise of firing recommenced above me, and some bullets came crackling through the bushes (our bullets), and I almost wished that one would kill me.

Chinese yells burst out again in the direction of the Bush Hill. They were answered by defiant cheers, one of our Maxims began to rattle, then a burst of Mauser firing drowned every other sound, the noise of fighting dwindled away, a solitary shout, a piercing scream, the Maxim ceased, and all was still once more. I could not tell whether that attack had been repulsed or whether it had swept across the hill, and felt that I only wanted to die.

My captors--three great lusty sailors--hurried me downhill, and presently they came to the cultivated plots above the town, and across these they went at a run, avoiding parties of coolies hurrying up the hill and armed with strange, old-fashioned weapons.

I saw that they were making for a small, white-painted bungalow under some trees, and presently they reached it and flung me down in an out-house among a lot of firewood and coal, tied my legs together and slammed the door, bolted it from the outside, and left me in darkness.

How long I remained there I do not know, but now I felt a stabbing pain in my chest whenever I tried to wriggle into a less painful position, and another in my leg close to where I had been wounded before.

I began to wonder what they were going to do with me, and whether I should be tortured--for we had all dreaded falling alive into their hands--but I don't think that I really cared what happened.

The door flew open, two of the sailors came in, caught me up, and carried me out across a garden and through a verandah with long cane chairs under it. Here a native servant led them inside the bungalow, a bamboo curtain was pushed aside, and they sat me down on a mat on the floor.

Lying on a little trestle-bed in one corner was a man groaning in his sleep. The native servant bent over the bed, touched him on the shoulder, and he woke with a start and raised his head.

It was Hopkins, his eyes glittering strangely, and his face all drawn with pain.

"Thank God! you are safe, Glover," he cried, and made them unfasten my legs and arms. When I was free once more he ordered the men out of the room, but they refused to go, talking excitedly.

"Guess they want their re-ward," he drawled, and asked me to open a heavy cash-box at his side. He fumbled at his neck and found the key.

"Tally up a couple of hundred dollars' worth of bills," he asked me, "and sling them at those scoundrels."

It was a funny thing for me to be counting out the sum to be paid for my own capture and handing it over to those brutes, but I did it automatically. I really did not feel, or hear, or see anything quite as if I were awake; and when I read over what I have written, it seems so jerky and disconnected, that I have often tried to make it read more smoothly, but then I don't think it would give you quite the impression it still gives me. Incidents just seemed to happen; they did not seem to have any connection, but went on, one after another, till I woke up standing over Hopkins's cash-box and paying those ugly brutes.

I ought to have hated and loathed Hopkins, but somehow or other I didn't--none of us did, I fancy--and remembering, as if it were in a dream I had just wakened from, the gallant way he had led that charge, I felt awfully sorry for him, and forgot that, but for him and his partners, Captain Hunter would not be lying dead on that hill above me, nor many others--how many, I dare not think.

"Captain Hunter is killed. That brute with the black beard shot him," I blurted out; and it may seem funny to you, but I knew that he would be just as sorry as I was. His face twitched. "That is Schmidt," he said.

"He died trying to rescue me," I said, and something seemed to stick in my throat. I could not keep it back, and threw myself on the floor and sobbed and sobbed till tears came.

Even now I don't feel in the least ashamed of myself, and I know that I was absolutely too played out to mind then.

"I'm sorry, Glover, I'm mighty sorry, but it would have been up against you if he had hauled you back."

He said it so seriously, that a faint idea of what he meant flashed through my mind, and I remembered the second attack which I had listened to whilst I was being carried down the hill, and the endless stream of coolies pouring up the hill.

"Why?" I gasped.

"Come here," he said, stretching out his hand and drawing me gently to him. "Guess there ain't no blood on it 'cept my own," he added bitterly, as I half drew back. "You and your chum, young Foote, were the last to shake that hand, youngster, and you wouldn't have seen me again an' been still jumping around but for that and one thing besides." I remembered then that Toddles and I had shaken hands with him when he had been exchanged for Ping Sang.

"I reckon that if somebody hadn't just sloshed around and coralled a few of these heathen, and sent 'em up to bring you down at a hundred-dollar bill a head, you'd be getting about stiff by now. If that whole outfit up top there ain't wiped out by sundown, we've got a couple o' thousand who'll eat what's left after dark."

He was so earnest, and so evidently believed what he said, that his words made me feel cold with horror.

He saw my dismay and said: "I reckon, though, that this combine is just about busted. We shall just have to quit.

"Those rotten ships ain't no more use for fighting than--than--than I am," he finished, and caught his breath as some pain seemed to grip him. He went on in a minute.

"See here, youngster, I'm shot clean through the stomach. I reckon I might pull through if it had been a slate-pencil of a Mauser bullet, but it was a Martini bullet, and I've got just two more rounds of the sun and then I pass in my checks. I had seen you on top of that hill sticking to little Cummins like a 'possum, and when I got downed I guessed that I'd fish you out to do something particular for me."

"The Commander wouldn't let me stick to him if he could help it," I said. "He was afraid of my being shot, for he knew that he was being fired at."

Hopkins smiled. "Guess he didn't calculate that I stopped 'em potting at him when you were in his vicinity. I'll show you why."

He put his arm under his pillow and drew out a photograph, looking at it with strange eyes, and handed it to me. "Guess that's the reason."

It was a photograph of Milly, and just like the one Mr. Pattison had.

"How did you know Milly?" I cried, tremendously surprised.

"Helston introduced me one day in London. I met her several times, put the old man" (the Admiral) "on to a good thing in oil shares, got an invite to his place at Fareham for a couple of days, and--and--and--well, Glover, your cousin simply knocked me over, and" (the colour rising under his tanned face) "I asked her to be my wife."

"You did?" I asked, simply astounded. (Fancy old Milly marrying a pirate!)

"Yes, I reckon I did," he answered quietly, his face twitching again; "and I reckon I meant it, and meant it for all time."

"Did she----?" I began.

"She did not say 'No'," he replied, speaking reverently. "She said that she would give me my answer when I came back."

"But how could you----?" I began, and could have bitten my tongue off.

He knew well enough what I meant, and his face paled and became fearfully hard and rigid.

"If she had promised to be my wife, Glover, I would have thrown up this cursed job, though I reckon they might have hunted me down in time and got a knife into me later. As it was, I had to go through with the show. I had sworn to back up my pals, but calculated my job might about end when I'd delayed Helston and brought out those beastly destroyers.

"Youngster, we three--Hamilton, Schmidt, and myself--have looked death face to face together a hundred times, and, wife or no wife, a white man could not throw up the cards and back out of the game when his chums were cornered.

"I could have quitted any night this last fortnight, skedaddled out in a junk, but, well, I didn't, and here I am now, with a hole in my stomach, waiting to be planted."

I had dropped his hand, but took hold of it again.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

He pulled a packet from under his pillow, wrapped round in Korean oiled cloth. "That's my will, Glover. I want to sign it. You'll find a pen and ink on that table over there. Get it."

I brought pen and ink and unwrapped the package. I found a few legal-looking papers, and a sheet of the _Laird's_ mess note-paper dropped out, with "H.I.M.S. _Laird_" printed on it. As I picked up this I saw written on it, "My Last Will and Testament".

"We shall want another witness," he said, "to do those lawyers out of a haul;" and he beat on the wall with a split bamboo.

His butler or head boy came hurriedly in with a scared face. Hopkins could not sit up in bed, so I held the paper against a book whilst he signed his name, "Reginald S. Hopkins, late U.S.N.", and then I added my own name and the head boy his, first in Chinese characters and then in a rough school-boy hand in English, "Hi Ling".

"Promise me, Glover, to hand that to the Admiral."

"To the Admiral?" I said. "To Milly's father?"

"Yes, youngster; I've left her all I possess, and it's a tidy big lump," he added.

"But!" I gasped. Milly could not take his money--a pirate's money, I thought.

He guessed my thoughts and winced, but added with a grim smile:

"Every cent is as clean as it ever is on the New York Exchange. My guv'nor made it in oil, and that's what's left of it. The Admiral won't smell nothing worse than oil, I reckon, in those greenbacks, for I've never had fingers on them."

"How can I take it to Milly?" I asked. "Are you going to send me back to the Commander?"

"Guess not," he smiled faintly. "Those docu-ments won't be dispatched that way, I reckon. They're hurrying up with spades to bury that little lot right away. Back you go to the _Laird_ as fast as I can send you. I've got a destroyer waiting for you, with her boilers near bursting, and two thousand dollars I've promised those wretched cowards aboard her when they bring back a receipt for you from Helston. The weather is pretty bad, but she'll stand it, and I'll die more easy when I know you're safe aboard that packet. And you'll take Hi Ling too, in case there's any legal rumpus concerning that signature.

"Will you do this for me, youngster?"

I hated going back to the ship without the Commander and his men, but if he would not send me back to them there was no help for it; and, besides, I wanted to do what I could for him.

"If you won't send me back to the Commander, I'll take them aboard and promise to hand them to the Admiral," I said.

Hi Ling had gone away, but now returned with two of the sailors who had captured me. They brought a great blue cotton cloth and began to wrap me in it, whilst Hi Ling talked excitedly to Hopkins, evidently in great distress.

"He doesn't want to leave me," Hopkins said. "I've nobody else to look after me."

"But you can't be left alone," I said; "they might kill you."

"Not till I've got that receipt from Helston," he answered grimly, pulling a revolver from under the bedclothes.

The blue-jackets prepared to lift me on their shoulders, and I hurriedly shook hands with Hopkins, not daring to look at his face.

They lifted me up and took me out of the room, but I heard him call out, and they put me down. He called me, and I went back.

His face was rigid with pain and sorrow. "Glover, youngster," and he clenched my hand, "tell her I loved her; tell her I love her now; tell her that I died fighting. I led that charge well? I did, did I not? Tell her that."

I felt a sob coming up at the back of my throat, and darted out again.

He called me back, and said in half a whisper, with a catch in his throat; "She may think I died fighting--on--your--side. Don't let her know."

I squeezed his two hands. I could not say a word, for my lips were quivering. I left him there.

The sailors seized me roughly, covered me from head to foot in the blue cloth, and began running. I could hear Hi Ling panting at my side.

In a little while they stopped, I felt the breeze and the smell of the sea, and they jolted me into a boat and began pulling from the shore.

They unwound the cloth which still covered me, and I saw that we were making straight for one of the Patagonian destroyers. We bumped alongside, and I scrambled painfully up. The Chinamen on deck gesticulated savagely, and one or two spat at me; but I was so utterly miserable, that I did not seem to care what happened, or even to be frightened.

They cast off almost immediately, keeping close inshore till they came near the entrance, and then had to shoot out into the harbour.

The destroyer must then have come into view from One Gun Hill, for a huge shell fell with a splash in the water a hundred yards astern, ricocheted against the cliffs, and burst with a roar, the frightened crew throwing themselves flat on the deck or rushing down below.

I jumped to my feet and yelled with delight. It was our 12-inch Krupp, and the Commander and his men were still holding out on the top of the hill. Oh, the relief and the joy of it!

I looked upwards, but could not see the top of the hill on account of the smoke from the gun and from the still burning bushes.

We were now slipping past the ledge on which the Commander, Jones, and I had lain two days ago, and the cruiser at the foot of it was burning furiously quite close to where we had sunk the dinghy.

"Mista Hamilton belong all same dead man." I turned round. It was Hi Ling, rubbing his thin hands sadly and then pointing to the wreck. "Shell he come and makee blow up--vely blave man--plenty numbly one fightee man. All belong vely bad joss," he added mournfully.

"The lame Englishman dead?" I asked.

The Chinaman nodded his head.

Then we ran past the place where we had knocked over the two sentries, passed between the landing-stages, and between the two forts, lined with men gaping down at us, twisted round a corner, and dashed into the full force of the gale and the huge seas on our starboard beam. No wonder that the crew would not take me out under two thousand dollars.

I could see the _Laird_ right ahead, five miles out to sea, and the Chinamen hoisted a great white flag at the masthead, which flew as stiff as mill-board to leeward, and made straight for her.

They had to ease down immediately, as seas were coming right over us, and we were hardly clear of the rocks near the entrance before Mr. Lang in "No. 2" sighted us, and came racing along to cut us off, tumbling and lurching through the following seas.

One of the crew came running aft, jabbered to Hi Ling, and pointed to me.

"Captain he wantchee you go topsides all same blidge," said Hi Ling.

Up I went, and they made me understand that I had to make myself conspicuous, so that Mr. Lang could see me.

I waved my handkerchief--I don't know what had become of my cap--and shouted in my excitement, though, of course, that was silly; and then a wave flopped on the bridge and drenched me from head to foot, and as the salt water soaked through my clothes, those places on my chest and leg began to smart again.

Mr. Lang had seen our white flag, and came staggering up with a signal flying at the yard-arm--"Heave to" and "Send a boat".

A boat could not live for a moment in that sea--at any rate, no boat that we had--so I jammed myself against the bridge rails and semaphored with my arms, "Midshipman Glover on board--a prisoner--being taken back to _Laird_".

I could see the stir this signal made, everybody trying to see me. Then Mr. Lang spotted me and waved his arms. His signalman semaphored, "Remain where you are; will communicate with _Laird_".

I explained to Hi Ling, and he to the captain--a great, gaunt, honest-looking Tartar--who grunted a reply.

Off went Mr. Lang to the _Laird_, and in twenty minutes back he came and semaphored, "Will follow you to lee of island and send a boat".

I told Hi Ling, but the captain shook his head decisively after chattering to some of the others. "No can do," said Hi Ling, "Mista Hopkins he wantchee leceipt flom numbly one ship," and he pointed to the _Laird_. "No can do," and he pointed to "No. 2".

I signalled across, "Have orders to transfer me to _Laird_--refuse to put me aboard you--no fear of treachery--have no torpedoes in tubes" (I had noticed this previously). Mr. Lang waved his hand, and "No. 2" thrashed back to the _Laird_.

We had already drifted half a mile past the entrance, and presently saw the _Laird_ steaming away towards the north of the island, and we followed her, even before Mr. Lang could get back or make a signal, and soon began to get shelter in the lee of the land.

The _Laird_ came grandly down, her masts swaying in a stately, deliberate manner as she rolled from side to side, till she, too, ran into smoother water and lowered a cutter.

Five minutes later it came alongside, with Toddles in command. I jumped in, followed by the captain and Hi Ling, and we shoved off back to the _Laird_. She gave us a lee, and I caught a rope and scrambled up, followed by the captain, as agile as a monkey, though Hi Ling could not face it, and remained terror-struck in the boat as she went up and down, and the crew kept her from stoving in her side against the ship.

It was Captain Helston who hauled me through the gangway, and I hurriedly explained that the big Chinaman wanted a receipt for my safe return. He was given it, swung himself down the side without deigning a word or a look, and the boat took him back to the destroyer, after we had hauled Hi Ling on board with a bow-line under his arm-pits.

"What news, Glover? Quick!" said Captain Helston.

I told him all I knew. It was a painful story and a long one, and I finished it in his cabin. He was fearfully agitated, and paced backwards and forwards, clutching his empty sleeve.

Dr. Fox, too, who was standing over me, was scarcely less alarmed. I had never seen him show the least feeling before.

"What are we to do, Fox? What are we to do?" Captain Helston kept saying. "It is impossible to land another man, even if I could spare one, and we've only three hours of daylight left. They'll all be murdered."

A midshipman--it was Dumpling--came down. "They've fired that gun again, sir," he said, grinned at me, and disappeared.

"They are still holding out, Doc. What can we do?"

"This is a matter of life or death, not only of strategy and tactics," said Dr. Fox suddenly. "One thing must be done--done at once, too--and you know what that is."

"Yes, yes. I must draw off their attention from Cummins by attacking those forts; a terrible risk, but it must be taken." His face became quite calm and happy again, and he rang the sentry bell.

"Send the First Lieutenant to me."

The First Lieutenant came running down.

"I am going to attack those forts at once. Signal to the _Strong Arm_ to support me, and to Parker and Lang to close and await orders."

"Very good, sir," said the First Lieutenant and vanished with a joyful smile.

Picking up his telescope, the Captain went on deck, and Dr. Fox began taking off what was left of my monkey-jacket and examining my body. I heard the buglers sounding out for General Quarters, and heard the stamping of the men as they rushed cheering to their stations.

"Look at yourself, boy," said Dr. Fox, standing me on a chair, and I saw myself in the sideboard glass. I had no cap, my face was scratched all over, my flannel shirt was all covered with blood and was almost torn in half, one trouser leg had a great tear in it, and there was more blood on that, but the sea on board the destroyer had washed most of it away. I was sopping wet, and one boot had gone too.

"You don't look worth much; hardly worth sending you back, was it?"

I snatched at my torn monkey-jacket and pulled out the package.

"Mr. Hopkins is dying, sir. That is his will, and he wanted to know it was safe aboard here. He has left everything to Milly."

"To Milly!" said Dr. Fox, astounded. "I knew that he did meet her two or three times. Was he too in love with her?"

"Yes, sir; I think she half promised to marry him. Aren't you awfully sorry for him, sir?"

Dr. Fox smiled that cynical smile that made you want to kick him.

"I can't stop here all day," he growled. "I'm short-handed with Richardson away, and must look after my job. You have had enough fighting to last you till doomsday, so just you go down to the ammunition passages and wait there till I come."

"Can't I stay on deck, sir?"

"Do what I tell you!" he snarled, and, to see that I obeyed him, he took me down below himself.

*CHAPTER XXIII*

*The Attack on the Forts*

Below the Armoured Deck--We Engage the Forts--We Silence the Forts--My Wounds are Dressed

_Mr. Midshipman Glover's Narrative continued_

The men were hurriedly closing water-tight doors and lowering the water-tight hatchway covers. Dr. Fox and I must have been nearly the last to go below, for the men had to stop lowering the big armoured hatchway cover aft, in order that we might scramble through it and climb down the steep iron ladder to the magazine flats.

The heavy iron armour fell into place with a thud. I heard the men above screwing down the clamps which secured it, and for the first time in my life realized that we were shut in below the armoured deck, and wondered how we were going to escape if anything happened.

Of course I had often been there before during drills, but this was the real thing, and I felt like a rat in a trap.

The big space we were now in was called the "cross passage", and ran right across the ship, with the sloping dome of the armoured deck above it. The magazines opened into it at the after end, and on each side the ammunition passages ran for'ard. These were two tunnels just broad enough for two men to squeeze past, and just high enough for them to stand erect. They ran along each side of the ship, under the curved edge of the armoured deck, to open into another cross passage for'ard, where were more magazines, and from the top of them rose the ammunition hoists--great armoured tubes, five on each side--leading up to the main and upper deck 6-inch guns.