CHAPTER XIX
A Dash for Freedom
The voice of Phil Branscombe quickly reassured the startled Burgoyne.
"It's all right, old man," exclaimed Phil in a low voice."Everything's O.K. How are things?"
"Ravenous, the pair of us," declared Alwyn.
"I thought so," rejoined the Fourth Officer, "and so as a reward fora good little boy I've brought both of you some grub. Save youdrawing on the tinned stuff," he added.
"And Young Bill?"
"Young Bill is there," replied Branscombe, indicating the cave."She's as plucky as they make 'em. The Old Man got a move on at thefinish. Do you want to see him? If so, he's on the top of the cliff."
Burgoyne shook his head. He couldn't speak just then because he wasmunching bread and bully beef.
"No," he replied at length. After his strenuous exertions and withthe prospect of more to come before very long, he did not feel equalto the task of ascending and descending the cliff. "No, he gave mefinal instructions. I don't think there's anything else. Hello! Why,that's Mostyn! Thought you were still on the sick list, old man. Whatare you doing here?"
"Coming along with you," replied the Wireless Officer. "Old Man'sorders."
"Dash it all!" exclaimed Burgoyne, somewhat taken aback at theprospect of being saddled with a man who not so long since had beenlying on his back with a score or more of wounds. "What do you knowabout handling a boat?"
"I wasn't _always_ a wireless bloke," replied Mostyn.
"I've been used to a sailing boat ever since I was a kid. Also I'vebrought my share of the grub and a bit over."
Burgoyne capitulated without further protest. Mostyn's declarationthat he knew how to sail a small boat more than wiped out theobjection.
"All right," he said; then addressing Branscombe and Twill--the thirdmember of the shore party--he continued: "It's no use hanging on tothe slack any longer. We've found a water-tank and it wants filling.Mostyn, you might put all the provisions and spare gear on board.Yes, the canvas tanks. They may come in handy."
With four men to handle the tank the task of conveying it filled withwater to the boat was a fairly simple one. Under Burgoyne's directionit was stowed between two of the thwarts and immediately for'ard ofthe centre-board case.
"That's everything, I think," remarked Alwyn. "Now the sooner we'reoff the better. I want to get at least thirty miles from the islandbefore dawn. Now, Phil, if you will kindly bring Miss Vivian--I meanYoung Bill--we'll put off."
Branscombe carried out instructions. Hilda Vivian wearing an oldpilot coat (a gift from Captain Davis) over her borrowed clothes,which during her stay on the island consisted of a duck jumper andtrousers and a sailor's straw hat, came up to greet Alwyn.
"I'm ready, Mr. Burgoyne," she said; then with a suspicion of a smileshe added, "and may I keep my face clean now, please?"
She shook hands and said good-bye to Branscombe and Twill, and wasassisted by Alwyn into the boat.
Slipping into the stern sheets Burgoyne gave the word to push off,and the voyage began.
Hilda Vivian was told to sit down upon a pile of canvas in front ofthe water-tank, where she would be least in the way when the timecame to step the mast and hoist sail. Mostyn was pulling bow oarand Minalto stroke. Burgoyne steered, the while keeping an anxiouseye upon the cliffs fronting the still hidden Observation Hill.
During the last hour the clouds had dispersed and the stars shonebrilliantly, reflecting long shafts of shimmering light upon thegently-undulating water.
Alwyn expressed no appreciation of the change, although ratherphilosophically he remarked that it was a jolly good job the starsweren't out when they were rowing round the island. Now, although notdesirable, the starlight did not count to such an extent. If the boatwere sighted it would be an awkward circumstance, but before thepirates could stand in pursuit the life-boat would establish a usefullead and be lost in the darkness.
"You know how that foremast steps, Mostyn?" he inquired in a lowvoice.
"Ay, ay," was the reply. "I've been watching it, and I've overrun thegear."
"Good enough," rejoined the Third Officer, considerably impressed bythe initiative of the latest addition to the crew. "We may have tohoist sail in a hurry before very long."
"Isn't the surf making a roar to-night?" remarked Hilda from her"quarters" for'ard of the water-tank.
"Yes," replied Alwyn. "Good thing; it prevents anyone ashore hearingthe sound of oars."
He purposely omitted to add that the exceptionally noisy roar of thesurf was occasioned by a heavy ground swell, that, taken inconjunction with the torrential downpour unaccompanied by wind,betokened bad weather at no distant date. None of the officers or menof the captured merchant ships possessed an aneroid, so forprognosticating the weather they had to rely upon Nature'ssignals--and the unwonted thunder of the surf was one of them.
"Now, steady all," cautioned Burgoyne, as the lifeboat drew away fromthe shelter of the cliffs. "Clean strokes and no fancy feathering."
Nearer and nearer drew the isolated rock that marked the limits ofvisibility from the Observation Station. Carefully avoiding the shoalthat extended some distance seaward, Burgoyne held on his courseuntil the rock bore broad on his port beam. Another five minutes andthe risk of detection would be past.
Slowly starboarding his helm Alwyn brought the boat round until shewas eight points off her former course. By so doing, although theaction was the only practicable one, he exposed the whole of thelife-boat's broadside to the shore instead of being "end on" aspreviously; but at that increased distance from the island the boatwould appear little larger than a walnut-shell.
"We've done it!" he announced gleefully. "Another twenty strokes andwe can hoist sail."
The next instant a flash of flame leapt from the pirates' look-outstation, and a bullet whizzed shrilly above the heads of thefugitives, ricochetting fifty yards beyond the boat.
"Give way for all you're worth!" yelled Burgoyne. "Keep well down,Miss Vivian, in case they get one in."
Two more flashes followed in quick succession, but where the bulletsstruck remained a matter for conjecture. Then another, throwing up afeather of spray twenty yards short, ricochetted and sent splintersflying from the life-boat's gunwale.
"Another ten strokes!" shouted Alwyn. "Put every ounce into it."
The stuttering rattle of a machine-gun from the summit of theObservation Hill warned Burgoyne that Ramon Porfirio's ruffians hadnot had their last say in the matter. The pirates evidently knew howto handle the weapon to the best advantage, for they were training itabout five degrees in a vertical plane, so that the hail of bulletsstruck the water short and beyond the boat and almost every inch ofthe distance between. They had only to traverse the machine-gunslightly to the right literally to smother the life-boat with lead.
"Way 'nough!" ordered Burgoyne. "Take cover!"
Waiting until Mostyn and Minalto had thrown themselves on to thebottom-boards, Alwyn relinquished the tiller and crouched on thestern gratings. He knew that by the combined action of the wind andtide, added to the way of the boat, they would drift fairly rapidlythrough the danger zone.
The fusillade ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Alwyn raised hishead above the gunwale. The boat was still in the line of fire, butalmost on the point of being masked by the detached rock.
"They've got a jam!" he announced. "It'll take another five minutesto clear it, and then they'll be much too late. Up with the masts!"
Considering it was the first time they had stepped the masts in thatparticular boat the task was accomplished fairly smartly.
"Up foresail," ordered the Third Officer.
Jasper Minalto sprang forward to assist Mostyn to hoist the somewhatawkward dipping lug. When the canvas was sheeted home the boat seemedto leap forward under the quartering breeze.
"That'll do for the present," said Alwyn. "She'll steer better likethat until we're clear of the reef. Come aft; we want her trimmed bythe stern going through--no, not you
, Miss Vivian. You'll do nicelywhere you are. Are you quite comfortable?"
"Quite, thank you," was the cheerful reply, given in a tone whichimplied that, having been under fire twice within the last month, thediscomfort of sitting upon a pile of canvas on the bottom-boardscounted for naught.
"Right-o," continued Alwyn. "Directly we gain the open sea we'll rigyou up some sort of tent."
"But I'm not at all tired," protested Hilda.
"You will be before morning," rejoined the Third Officer. "We've avery long way to go, you know, and there are no rugs, hot-waterbottles, or Thermos flasks aboard this packet."
With that observation Burgoyne glanced ahead under the foot of thebellying sail. He could now discern the gap in the reef, bearingroughly a couple of points on the starboard bow.
"Give her about a foot of plate," he ordered, "and a couple of incheshome with the sheet."
Mostyn promptly lowered the centre-board to the required distance,while Minalto took a pull on the fore-sheet. The life-boat no longerdrifted to leeward, but on the contrary showed a decided tendency to"eat her way" to wind'ard. All the same Burgoyne anticipated a bit ofa struggle in taking the boat through the narrow gap in the reef.There was a fairly heavy "tumble" on the comparatively shallow bar,with seas breaking on each side of it. An error of judgment mighteasily result in the boat being dashed upon the coral ledges oneither hand.
A DASH FOR FREEDOM]
"Stand by with an oar," ordered Burgoyne. "In case we have to steerwith it. I doubt whether the rudder will have much grip when she's inthe thick of it."
The Third Officer's whole attention was fixed upon the passagethrough the reef. What was happening ashore did not trouble him inthe least. He knew that long before the pirates could rush amachine-gun round to the summit of the south cliffs the life-boatwould be well away from land--provided she wasn't swamped or batteredagainst the dangerous ledges.
Meanwhile Jasper Minalto had lashed a fourteen-foot oar to thestern-post, allowing sufficient play for the blade to be moved to theright extent in a horizontal plane. Should the rudder fail to grip asthe boat climbed the steep sides of the waves the oar would serve tokeep her from broaching-to, and from being almost inevitably swamped.
Putting the helm up until the boat was running almost free Burgoynesteered for the smoothest patch in that almost regular line ofbreakers, for there was about twenty yards where the heavy swell didnot break, although it reared itself menacingly across the wholeextent of the narrow entrance.
The noise of the surf was now deafening, as the ground swell, rollingin against the wind, threshed irresistibly upon the low-lying reef.Already the steady movement of the boat through the tranquil watersof the lagoon was giving place to a jerky motion, as the first of thespent rollers began to make themselves felt.
The little craft was travelling fast. Although many of thedisconcerting conditions were hidden by the darkness, the milk-whitefoam showed up conspicuously through the night, while to the roar ofthe surf was added the whine of the ever-increasing wind.
Now they were in the thick of it. Like a racehorse the boat chargedthe first of the steep rollers, and lifted gallantly to the curlingwall of water. Throwing showers of spray far and wide from her sharpstem, she slid gracefully down the other side, although it took everyounce of strength on the part of Burgoyne and Minalto to prevent herfrom broaching-to.
She took the next wave badly, shoving her nose into the crest andshipping it green over the bows; then staggering she managed tooverrun the third breaker and gained the comparatively safe waterbeyond.
"That's all serene," shouted Burgoyne. "Get the water out of her,Mostyn."
He half expected a protest from Miss Vivian, but the girl had notstirred, although the floor-boards were six inches deep in water. Shehad, however, taken the precaution of wrapping a piece of canvasround her--Burgoyne had meant to caution her, but in the quick flightof time during the approach to the reef he had omitted to do so--andhad come off comparatively dry.
"She's carrying all she can, I think," said Alwyn, raising his voiceto reach Mostyn and Minalto, both of whom were busily engaged inbaling out.
"I'm carrying nothing, Mr. Burgoyne!" exclaimed Hilda, ratherastonished at words that apparently related to her. "Is thereanything I can do?"
"No, thanks," replied Burgoyne. "'She' applies to the boat. I meanshe has as much sail as we can set without risking a capsize. It'sall right as things go; but we may have to reef."
"I reckon she's doing eight knots," remarked Mostyn, who, havingcompleted his task of baling out, had come aft.
"A good eight," agreed Burgoyne. "Will you take her now? Minalto andI have had a pretty tough time."
"Right-o," replied Mostyn, glad of the opportunity of "feeling thekick of the helm" again. "What's the course?"
"Sou' by east," said Alwyn, handing the Wireless Officer the pocketcompass. "Don't watch the needle; steer by a star and check yourcourse occasionally. You'll find it much simpler than straining youreyes in the starlight. Call me in about a couple of hours--earlier ifyou want me."
Giving a glance astern Burgoyne saw that the line of foam was almostinvisible, the island entirely so. If the breeze held--he was notanxious for it to increase in force--the secret base would be fortyor fifty miles astern by daybreak.
"Now, Miss Vivian," he said cheerily. "We're going to fix you upbefore Jasper and I turn in. Are you hungry? There's some ship'sbiscuits going. That's our staple fare for a bit, I'm afraid. You'redry, I hope? Externally, I mean. Good! Now we'll rig you up a tent."
Lashing the loom of one of the oars to the mast at a height of sixinches above the mast-clamp and resting the blade in a roughly-madeboom-crutch, Burgoyne and Minalto deftly stretched a sheet of canvasover the oar, securing the ends to the thwarts.
"There you are," said Alwyn. "As we say in the Merchant Serviceyou'll be as snug as a--an insect in a rug. We can't allow you muchhead-room, in case the foot of the sail flies over. Now Jasper and Iare turning in. If you want me just shout and I'll be up in a braceof shakes."