Part 25 (1/2)
Not much cause to be proud of him. Well, it's better than for a black-looking rascal to say he'll owe you a grudge. Well,” he continued, as he mounted the side, ”I'll give it up; but I shall most likely know some day.”
And like many another unconscious thinker, Edward Murray was, for the time being, amongst the prophets.
STORY THREE, CHAPTER TWO.
NIGHT AT A CONVICT STATION.
”Hullo! What's wrong?” exclaimed Edward Murray, leaping out of his cot; for he had been awakened by a heavy sound like thunder; and directly after he heard the second mate's voice calling to him.
”Here, come on deck; there's a row ash.o.r.e. Convicts broke loose, or something.”
The young man hastened on deck, as did the captain and the rest of the crew, to find that the night was intensely dark, but that there was a bright display of lights on sh.o.r.e, conspicuous amongst which was a dull heavy glimmer, which, however, soon increased to a glow, and then flames mounted higher and higher, and it became evident that some good-sized building was on fire.
At this moment there was a sudden flash, and the heavy thud of a gun from the sloop, followed by loud cries and shoutings on the beach.
”Hadn't we better man a boat and go ash.o.r.e?” said Edward Murray eagerly.
”There's a bad fire, and we might be of some use.”
”Better stay aboard,” said the captain. ”That's part of the prison on fire. Those fiends of convicts have fired the place, and they're escaping, safe. There, I told you so. That's not the sort of thing used for putting out fires.”
As he spoke, there came the loud sharp rattle of musketry, and, from the lights on board the sloop, it was evident that the men had been beat to quarters, ready for any emergency. The ports were open, showing the lights within; and a faint glimpse was obtained of a boat being lowered; but soon the noise and shouting ceased, the musketry was heard no more, and only a dull murmuring sound as from a busy crowd came floating across the bay.
But the light of the burning building still shone out strong and lurid, and by means of a night-gla.s.s it could be seen that men were busily endeavouring to extinguish the flames. When they shone in a ruddy path across the bay, a boat, too, could now and then be seen for a moment or two, as if some eager party were rowing ash.o.r.e. Then an hour pa.s.sed with the lurid flare settling slowly into a bright golden glow, the satiated flames sinking lower and lower, till, the excitement having worn away, first one and then another of the crew slipped down to his hammock, and Edward Murray was about to follow, when a faint sound off the port quarter arrested his steps.
Save where there was still the bright glow from the burning embers, all around was now intensely dark.
”Wasn't that the rattle of a thole-pin?” said Murray to his companion.
”Didn't hear it, for my part,” was the brusque reply.
”Then what's that? Did you hear it then?”
”Yes, I heard that,” was the answer.
And then the two young men crossed the deck and leaned over the side, peering out into the darkness; but seeing nothing for all that, though there was the faint sound of oars dipping slowly, and it was evident that some boat was nearing them.
”Do they mean to board us?” said Murray. ”Depend upon it, the man-of-war has boats on the lookout, and they're rowing with m.u.f.fled oars, ready to overhaul the escaping party; that is, if any of them have got loose.”
”That's it, depend upon it,” said the mate. ”They'll hail us directly.
They must see our lights.”
There was silence then for a few moments, during which two or three of the crew, attracted also by the noise they had heard, came over to their side. Then came the plash of an oar; and, starting into activity, as if moved by some sudden impulse, Murray shouted:
”Boat ahoy!”
”Ahoy, there!” was the answer.
And then the rowing was heard plainly, as if those who handled the oars had thrown off the secrecy of their movements.