The Third Officer: A Present-day Pirate Story. Westerman Percy Francis

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СКАЧАТЬ "There she is; three from the end of the rear rank of firemen."

      Burgoyne gasped.

      "Thought I told her to shove on Mostyn's kit," he exclaimed. "Don't you see, she'll have to – to keep with the engine-room crowd."

      "Jolly sight safer," declared Branscombe. "She'd attract attention with the few of us who are left. Her father agreed with me. 'Sides, all hands know, and they're white men, every man jack of 'em."

      "P'raps you're right," conceded Burgoyne, and as he gave another look he felt convinced that the amended plan was the thing. Unless an unfortunate fluke occurred or, what was most unlikely, someone "gave her away" the pirates would never recognize the slender fireman with closely-cropped hair and begrimed features, and rigged out in an ill-fitting greasy suit of blue dungarees, as a girl of gentle birth. There was certainly nothing in her demeanour to betray her. She was standing in a line with the men, outwardly as stolid as the rest.

      Drawing a small plated revolver from his hip-pocket – it was a six-chambered .22 weapon of neat workmanship – Burgoyne thrust it inside his sock, jamming the muzzle between the inside of his boot and his ankle. For the first time he felt grateful to the steward for having spilt ink over both pairs of deck-shoes, otherwise he would not have been wearing boots, and another hiding-place for the handy little weapon would not have promised to be so convenient.

      The leading boat from the pirate cruiser ran alongside, and about twenty men, armed to the teeth, swarmed up the Donibristle's side, followed (not led) by a swarthy, black-bearded individual wearing a cocked hat, a blue tunic, with a lavish display of gold lace, a black and crimson scarf round his waist, and a pair of duck trousers with white canvas gaiters. From his belt hung a cavalry officer's sword, while in his kid-gloved right hand he grasped an automatic pistol.

      The boarding-party consisted of men of half a dozen nationalities, and at least three totally distinct types of colour. There were Chinese, blue-smocked and wearing straw hats and black wooden shoes, negroes, bare to the waist, Creoles and half-breeds from various South American states, a couple of South Sea Island Kanakas, and a gigantic Malay armed with a kriss and a magazine rifle. Bunched together they eyed the motionless crew of the Donibristle so fiercely that Burgoyne momentarily expected to find them slashing, hewing, and shooting down their helpless, unarmed captives.

      The pirate officer stepped forward in the most approved melodramatic manner.

      "Me Pablo Henriques, tiente po– dat premier lieutenant – ob cruiser Malfilio," he announced. "Señor Ramon Porfirio him capitano. Now I take command ob de – de – "

      He paused, unable to pronounce the name.

      " – ob dis ship," he continued. "If you no give trouble den all vell. If you do, den dis."

      He drew one finger across his throat with a guttural cluck and pointed significantly over the side. The stolid-faced prisoners hardly moved a muscle. With no immediate danger in prospect, provided the pirate kept his word, they were content to let events shape themselves, confident that in the long run the lawful keepers of the peace on the High Seas would adjust matters in the form of a running noose round the neck of each of the pirate crew.

      "Now tell me," continued Henriques, addressing Burgoyne. "You no capitan; where am he?"

      "Wounded," replied Alwyn briefly.

      "Bueno. He make to ram us," rejoined the half-caste lieutenant. "Capitano Ramon Porfirio him angry, so we shoot. Say, is dis all der crew?"

      "No," replied Burgoyne steadily. "There are several wounded below. Also the Chief Engineer is in the engine-room."

      Henriques darted a glance of suspicion at the British officer.

      "Wa for?" he demanded sharply.

      Burgoyne returned his look calmly.

      "He has to watch the steam-gauges," he replied. "It might be awkward for us if an explosion occurred."

      It was an answer that served a two-fold purpose. Not only had Burgoyne given the pirate lieutenant a satisfactory reason for the Chief Engineer's presence in the engine-room, but he had, perhaps unknowingly, shown a certain amount of anxiety for the safety of the ship. Consequently any suspicion on the part of Pablo Henriques that the crew of the Donibristle had arranged to destroy the vessel, the boarding-party, and themselves was totally dispelled.

      "Ver' good!" he exclaimed, satisfied with the explanation. "Now, wher' are de documentos – de papairs?"

      Burgoyne shook his head and pointed to the wreckage of the chart-house. "Your fire was so accurate that the ship's papers are lost," he replied.

      As a matter of fact Captain Blair had weighted them with a lead-line and sinker, and had dropped them overboard almost directly the Malfilio had hoisted the ID signal. They were several miles astern and fathoms deep in the Pacific.

      A string of questions followed. What was the nature of the cargo? The amount of coal in the bunkers? Any infectious disease? How many passengers?

      All these questions Burgoyne answered promptly He was anxious not to cause trouble and give the pirates an excuse for brutality and perhaps massacre.

      "Four," he replied in answer to the last question. "One, a lady, lies dead below. She died during the firing."

      Pablo Henriques shrugged his shoulders. That information interested him hardly at all.

      "You vill tell your men," he ordered, "to give up all arms an knifes. If we find any after late, den' we kill 'em."

      The young officer gave the word, and the crew deposited their knives upon the deck. Firearms they did not possess, but of the officers, Withers and Branscombe each gave up an automatic and a few rounds of ammunition. Burgoyne took the risk and retained his revolver.

      "Now I make search every man," declared Henriques, smiling sardonically. "I jus' make certain."

      Fortunately a signal was being made by the Malfilio, and Henriques' attention was diverted. By the time the message was completed and acknowledged, the pirate lieutenant had either forgotten his intention of having the prisoners searched, or else something of more pressing nature required attention.

      Accompanied by three or four of the pirates Henriques went below. He was away for about five minutes, during which time the Malay ostentatiously whetted the already keen edges of his kriss. Noting the act, Burgoyne registered a vow that, should the pirates commence a massacre, he would take care that the yellow ruffian would be the recipient of the first of the six bullets in his revolver.

      Presently the grotesquely attired Henriques returned with much sabre-rattling.

      "De firemans here vill go below an' keep up de steam," he ordered. "Ebbery one of de firemans. De odders dey vill go prisoners on board de Malfilio."

      CHAPTER VI

      Under Hatches

      "That's done it," ejaculated Burgoyne under his breath. "Why that ass Branscombe hadn't put Miss Vivian with the deck-hands passes my comprehension. She'll be separated from her father straight away."

      He was furious but impotent. He pictured Hilda ordered below into the hot, steam-laden, dusty stokehold, imprisoned in an iron box, in which only hardened firemen could endure the discomforts, especially in latitudes approaching the tropics. He wondered whether Colonel Vivian would break the bonds of СКАЧАТЬ