Part 49 (2/2)

Sedgwick and Miss Wallace.”

”Miss Wallace has practically ceased to exist,” the Russian drawled.

”What do you mean?”

”I shall have the honor to send you cards, captain. Miss Wallace has become my wife.”

I stuck my head out of the porthole and shouted. ”That's a lie, Sam.

You're just in time to save her.”

”Are you a prisoner, Jack?”

”Yes. So is she. In the next cabin.” Some one stepped quickly across the deck and leaned over the rail above me. Bothwell's dark face looked down into mine. He leveled a revolver at my head and fired just as I drew back.

That shot served as a signal for the attack. Bullets sang back and forth, some from the schooner, others from the boats of my friends.

As for the battle, I saw from my porthole only the edge of it, and that but for a few moments as a boat full of men swept forward. Someone was firing with a rifle, while the others put their backs to the oars.

Presently the boat swept round the bow of the schooner and was lost to my view. But I could hear the firing of guns, the trampling of men above, and from their words could tell that the attackers were keeping their distance, even though they were firing pretty steadily from the cover of the sh.o.r.e bushes.

I must confess that Blythe's method of attack surprised me. How many men Bothwell had I did not know, but it was plain to me that the only way to take the s.h.i.+p was to rush it. We might fire at long distance for a week without doing more than keep them busy.

That I was wild to be free and in the thick of it may be guessed.

Knowing as I did how matters stood between Evelyn and her cousin, I saw that she must be rescued at once to prevent the unholy marriage the Slav planned.

Strange that Sam could not see this and that he had not led a more das.h.i.+ng attempt at succoring the girl.

Three taps on the door of my prison jerked me round as if I had been pulled by a string. My revolver was in my hand. The door opened slowly and let in a man.

”That's far enough. What do you want?” I asked brusquely.

”S-s.h.!.+ It's me, Mr. Sedgwick. Are you in irons?”

It was Gallagher. If I had been a Frenchman I would have kissed his ugly old mug for the sheer pleasure of seeing it. I knew now that Blythe had kept up the long distance fusillade in order to distract the attention of the defenders while Gallagher had crept close from the sh.o.r.e side.

I ran forward.

”Where is your boat?”

”Hidden in the bushes. Alderson is with it. Where is the lady, sir?”

In another minute Evelyn was free and standing with us in the pa.s.sage. I noticed that the fire of the attackers had grown more rapid. The sound seemed closer. The demonstration was taking on the appearance of a real boarding expedition.

We climbed the forecastle ladder. I led the way, revolver in hand. From where I stood, a few steps from the top of the ladder, my eyes could sweep the forward deck.

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