Hurricane Island by H. B. Marriott Watson (spicy books to read TXT) 📖

of Lane.

"You, doctor?" he said. "Thank the Lord we're not all done yet." He flung the door wide, and I could see now that his companion was the head steward.

"Where's the Prince?" I asked anxiously.

"I don't know," he said, heaving a big sigh. "Thank the Lord there's some one else alive. I was forced down the companion and fell. Lost my weapon, too, or I'd 'a' showed more fight. Great Scott, I rolled all the way down, not before I'd done for one or two, I tell you."

"Well, you're wanted upstairs now," said I, "both of you. We've got the ladies on our hands, and we've got to find out where the Prince is. Day is dead."

Lane whistled. "Poor beggar!" he observed. "But Jackson must stay here. This is our magazine, my boy--where the grub is. If we've got to stand a siege we've got to seize the grub-chest. The storage chamber's along here."

The advice seemed excellent. "Yes," I answered, "that is true. Well, let Jackson wait here and lie low. He won't be discovered here."

"I dare say the cook's somewhere hidden about here, sir," observed Jackson.

"All the better. Find him if you can. And remember that, if we pull through, this means a big business for you, Jackson, and cook, too."

"Yes, sir," he assented mildly.

"Now, then, Lane," I went on, and the purser followed me into the saloon. We mounted the staircase, and I took the chance of closing the doors at the head that gave access to the deck. Then I rapped on the door that gave on the Prince's corridor. It was opened by the Princess eagerly.

"We are two more, Miss Morland," I said cheerfully, "and here is one of them."

"But my brother!" she cried out.

"I've not discovered his whereabouts yet," I said evasively.

"Do you think that he's----" She did not finish.

"Not a bit of it," I said, as decidedly as I could, for, to tell the truth, I had my grave doubts. "I have unearthed Mr. Lane and the steward. Why shouldn't I unearth Mr. Morland, too?"

Yet, if the others were alive, why was the yacht so quiet?

She sighed, and then looked over at the couch on which Pye sat huddled. "That man's no use," she said contemptuously. "He's been doing nothing but drink brandy."

Lane crossed over to him. "The beggar's drunk," said he in disdain.

"Then you must hold one door and Miss Morland the other," said I.

"But you----" She paused.

"I am going on another expedition. You must let me out and in. Two knocks will warn you."

So saying, I slipped the bolt and got out on deck. From the appearance of the sky I judged that it was only half an hour since I had found myself in the corridor. It was light enough to make out things fairly well, and now I could discern on the bridge the portly form of Holgate struck with this light. The figure of a man was visible a little in front of me by the chart-house. I heard Holgate's voice raised wheezily in orders, and the replies of the men came back to me inarticulately. As I crouched under the shelter of the cabins on the lee side I became aware of a faint but continuous line just over the bulwarks, and then the explanation of the mysterious silence on the yacht dawned on me. It was the coast line, from which we could not be more than a couple of miles away, and in the confusion of the fight, no doubt, the _Sea Queen_ had lost her course and been driven inshore. It had, therefore, become imperative for Holgate to devote his attention and the activities of his men to the danger that threatened, more particularly as the heavy wind had threshed itself into a gale abeam.

Now at this juncture I must confess that I was entirely at a loss. I could not move a foot across the deck without being discovered, since it was merely the fact that I was in the lee of the cabins and in the deeper shadows of the dawn that enabled me to skulk where I was. Yet I was reluctant to go back without having carried the search a stage further. It was obvious from the calm which reigned among the mutineers that the Prince and his following were either dead or prisoners. Which had been their fate? The shadow of the man in front of me, scarcely a dozen paces away, turned and stopped and seemed to put his ear to the woodwork. It must be (I reflected) the chart-house door by which he stood. What was he listening for? Was it possible that some of our men were shut up in the chart-house? I shuffled a step or two nearer and watched him. He was fully armed, for I could make out a weapon in his hand, and he had something by his side, probably a cutlass. It was probable that he was placed guard over the prisoners. I drew two steps closer still. Holgate's voice still painfully dominated the wind and water, and I ventured yet a pace nearer. Did he turn now the man must see me, for I was in the gray light of the dawn, a deeper shadow than the wooden walls by which I lurked. My hands twitched, and I almost seemed to have sprung before I did spring. Then I knew I was on his back and had a leg twisted about his legs. He fell heavily, and I thrust a hand across his mouth. He struggled hard, writhing upon the deck under the weight of my body like a snake, and a choking sputter issued from his throat. Hastily I dragged a handkerchief from my pocket and pushed it into his mouth. The struggling increased. I glanced up and found that we had fallen under the door of the chart-house; also in that same glance I observed that the key was in it. No doubt it had been turned on the outside. I reached up a hand, but missed the key by a few inches. The endeavour had loosened my hold of my prisoner, and I was flung against the door with a thud; but I hurled myself upon him again just in time to prevent him from withdrawing the gag. In the struggle which ensued I managed to push him a little closer under the door, and then, with a desperate effort, stretched out and turned the key. I was fumbling for the handle when the man once again evicted me from the possession of his body, and I fell in a heap, jamming the door, which opened outwards. But on that I was aware that my back was being jarred and scored, and the next instant I was tumbled over at the foot of the mutineer, who had got on his legs at last. The door was thrust open with a noise, and men issued from it, stepping over my body.

"It is I--Phillimore," I gasped. "Run for the cabins."

Some one helped me to my feet, and I saw the mutineer drop with a sword point through him; and then we ran, I between two of the others, one of whom I was conscious was Ellison. A shout sailed down to us from the bridge, and there was the noise of a revolver shot, but luckily it missed us, and we gained the companion-way in safety, locked and barred the door, and knocked on the entrance to the corridor. Lane opened it.

"His Royal Highness, by gum!" he cried excitedly, and for the first time I was able to recognise my companions. The Prince was there, safe and scathless, and with him Barraclough, Ellison, and a fourth man, who was Grant.

Princess Alix rushed on her brother, and was taken to his arms. He kissed her affectionately.

"Yvonne?" he said.

"She is safe," said the Princess, withdrawing herself. "She it safe, dear, but frightened."

She spoke in German, and he nodded.

"Ah, she would be frightened. It is no woman's work this, Alix. We must be tender with her."

"We have done our best," she replied, I thought a little coldly; and at that a door down the corridor opened, and Mademoiselle herself appeared.

"Frederic!" she cried ecstatically, and hastened towards us with graceful movements. "Ah, Frederic, it is cruel to leave me so. I wish I were back in Paris. Oh, _mon Dieu!_ what a voyage, what a ship!"

As they embraced I turned my head away, for this reunion of lovers was no sight for public eyes, and as I did so I swept the Princess in my vision. Her face had fallen dead and chill, and I thought that a little curl of her lips betrayed some impatience with these demonstrations. Meanwhile Barraclough was narrating in his deliberate way the adventures of the party; but I cut him short, only asking one question:

"Where is Legrand?"

"They took him up and carried him forward, but I couldn't say if he were dead."

"We have no time to lose," I said. "They may attack at any moment, and we have too much space to defend for comfort."

"Why, we can manage this well enough," said he easily.

"And be starved," said I. "No; we must keep the access to the saloon and the kitchens, and that means precautions. Look at the windows through which we may be approached."

"Dr. Phillimore is right," said the Prince in his deep voice. "We must guard the windows."

"We must close them," said I. "Grant, you can use tools. Ellison, you and Grant do what you can. There is plenty of woodwork to draw on--doors and trappings in the cabins. The portholes are useless to the mutineers, but they can enter by the skylights or the windows. They must be all barred. We are in a state of siege."

"You hear your orders," said the Prince in his imperious voice. "The doctor speaks sense. See that it is done."

Barraclough and Lane and the Prince himself were left on guard, and the rest of us sallied down to hunt for tools and timber to carry out this primitive fortification. In this we had the assistance of the steward, Jackson, and the cook, who had been discovered in one of his pantries. The work took us a full hour or more, but at last it was decently accomplished. The windows of the saloon and music-room that gave on the deck were shuttered, as also the windows of the cabins. Nothing but the skylights remained unprotected, and these we could trust ourselves to guard. I reckoned that we were in a position to stand a siege indefinitely, unless something untoward occurred. The fortifications completed, we stationed our guards, two in the corridor, two in the saloon, and sat down at last, wearied out with the fatigue of that abominable night.


CHAPTER IX

THE FLAG OF TRUCE

We were not interrupted during all this time, and from the sound of the screw we could tell that the yacht was still ploughing her way, but clearly it was not now for Buenos Ayres. At six we took some food prepared by the cook, and considered the position with more equanimity. Counting the cook, who had not been reckoned in our previous numbering, we were now reduced to a party of ten men, if Pye could be accounted a man after his cowardly behaviour. There were six sailors in the hold at present useless, and the mutineers, even after their losses, were not