CHAPTER XVIII Successful so Far

Snugly hidden in the almost denuded compartment known as the captain's pantry, Alwyn Burgoyne and Jasper Minalto waited breathlessly for the impending explosion.

Discussing a hurried plan of action with Captain Blair—a quick change of programme necessitated by events over which they had no control—Burgoyne had acted promptly. Taking advantage of the confusion when the order had been given to abandon ship, the Third Officer and the faithful Minalto had climbed up the side and disappeared down the companion ladder without a single member of the pirate crew having the faintest suspicion of their presence. In the meantime the men in the life-boat, hurriedly coached by Captain Blair, had done their part of the business well.

A stout block had been bent to the heel of one of the davits. Through it was led a three-inch rope, one end being made fast to the life-boat's middle thwart close up to the knees, while the other was secured by means of a clove hitch to the crown of the davit. Unless looked for the rope would easily pass muster as one of the disordered falls of the davit. The idea was that, when the Donibristle sank, the strain on the rope would capsize and swamp the life-boat, pinning her hard and fast against the submerged side of the ship, and that was what exactly did happen.

The stowaways were confronted by two great and distinct perils. The pirates engaged in making up the explosive charges were not experts. They might easily err on the side of generosity when preparing the quantities, and when the explosion took place the whole ship might go up instead of down.

The second risk was that the Donibristle might sink in deeper water than the total height of her hull from keel-plates to the rail. In that case Burgoyne and Jasper Minalto would be trapped in a metal box and drowned without the ghost of a chance of saving themselves.

Yet unhesitatingly, though dubious of the result, they had taken the risk and were awaiting developments.

They could hear the plash of the oars as the boats pushed off, and the gentle grinding of the life-boat's gunwale as it rubbed against the rusty iron sides of the ship. Then came an ominous silence as Black Strogoff raised his hand and gave the signal.

The charges were fired.

Alwyn felt the floor-plates give as the whole fabric of the ship quivered under the internal impact. A waft of acrid fumes drifted into the enclosed space.

The two men exchanged glances as if to say, "Well; it's all right so far, but there's more to come."

The water was surging and hissing along the alley-way. The pantry-door, burst open by the outside pressure, was flung hard back against the bulkhead, and in an instant the two men were knee deep in water.

The level rose to their waists, and still there was no indication that the ship had settled on the bottom. The level was rising more slowly now. Without a jar the ship had touched the bed of the channel and was gradually sinking in the soft sand. Disappear she would eventually, but for the time being, perhaps for several hours, the subsidence was barely perceptible.

Then as the Donibristle listed slightly to port the level in the pantry fell a foot or eighteen inches, leaving the occupants standing nearly thigh deep in water.

Again they exchanged glances, but this time both men's faces wore a grin of satisfaction. They even chuckled softly, as they listened to the ravings of Black Strogoff and the carefully rehearsed lamentations and explanations of the boat's crew.

Half an hour later all was quiet without, save for the rattle of the rain upon the exposed portion of the deck. Black Strogoff, his assistants, and the working-parties had departed, their task accomplished; but there remained the unpromising prospect of their returning that afternoon to salve the sunken life-boat.

The downpour was a blessing in disguise. It enabled Burgoyne and his companion to talk without risk of being overheard by anyone on the cliff.

"Things'll be a bit more comfortable presently," said Minalto. "Tide'll be falling."

"Yes," agreed Alwyn. "It was half-ebb when they scuttled her. That means high-water about seven o'clock. Let's hope it will be a dark night and not too much wind. You say you know where the two buckets are stowed?"

Minalto made no reply. He was staring thoughtfully at a corner of the pantry.

"Anything wrong?" inquired Burgoyne. "You haven't got cramp, I hope?"

"No, sir," replied the man. "It's a mort too warm to give I cramp. I'm just a-thinkin', sir. See that li'l boiler? Couldn't us get 'en away an' use 'en for a water-tank?"

Burgoyne jumped at the idea. The "li'l boiler" was in reality a galvanized iron bin used for storing flour, and would hold about fifty gallons of water without much chance of its contents spilling over the top, as it was fitted with a metal lid.

"You're a gem of the first water, Jasper!" exclaimed Burgoyne enthusiastically. "Come on, let's get it adrift at once. It will be something to do."

By the aid of broken-off ends of files it was a fairly simple matter to unscrew the brass clamps. Examination of the tank showed that it was half filled with mouldy flour.

"Soon clean 'en," declared Minalto. "Then when us gets round t'other side fill 'en wi' water, and put 'en aboard the boat again."

"Hardly," demurred Burgoyne. "That tank even if only filled to within two inches of the top would weigh well over four hundredweights. No, we'll have to leave it in the life-boat and fill it up by means of the buckets. By Jove! that knocks Angus and his canvas tanks into a cocked hat. We'll clean it out now. Salt water won't hurt if we wash it with fresh later on."

The hours dragged wearily on. Both men were hungry and thirsty, for they had come unprepared for the task on which they were at present engaged. But at length the darkening gloom in the alley-way announced that night had drawn in, and the time for strenuous activity was at hand.

Glad to escape from their cramped quarters, for the rising tide was beginning to make things far more uncomfortable than before, the two men emerged from the pantry, dragging their prize after them.

It was now quite dark. The rain had ceased, but the sky was overcast. A north-easterly breeze was ruffling the waters of the lagoon. Shorewards there was nothing to denote human occupation. The cliffs of the secret base rose gaunt and forbidding against the faint loom of the sky, with no indication to show the hive of piratical industry that flourished within the limits of those unscaleable precipices.

Very cautiously Burgoyne and his companion crept towards the davit to which had been made fast the rope pinning down the life-boat. The manila had shrunk in the wet to such an extent that the clove hitch had jammed. It was only by using the broken file as a marline spike that Alwyn succeeded in teasing out the tenacious hitch.

The result though expected was nevertheless startling. The whaler, under the buoyancy imparted by six large air-tight copper tanks, bobbed up like a cork, making a splash that might be heard on board the Malfilio and even by the pirates on shore.

"They'm thinkin' it'll be a girt shark," commented Minalto, as he slipped over the side with a bucket to bale the boat.

Burgoyne joined him, and in twenty minutes the bottom boards were figuratively "dry". The exercise also helped to restore the circulation to the cramped limbs of the two men.

There were oars in the boat. Some thoughtful person had considerately lashed them down to the thwart so that they had not floated away; but the question now arose how were the masts and sails to be procured?

"It's too risky making a double trip across the harbour," said Burgoyne. "One would have been bad enough and we've been spared that. And there's the Malfilio to be taken into account, although I don't suppose they'll be so keenly on the look-out as they were when that vessel was using her searchlight. We'll have to swim for them. They will tow easily, since they are in canvas covers."

"I'm on, sir," agreed Minalto.

Both men stripped, and wringing out their saturated clothes spread them over the thwarts of the life-boat. Burgoyne held up the revolver.

"We'll not be wanting this on this trip," he remarked to his companion. "I'll hide it in the boat. It's too early to start using firearms."

Minalto nodded. He quite understood that if detected at this juncture the revolver would be of no help. Once the boat was ready to leave the island, then, perhaps, the little weapon might prove to be of service.

With the skill of experienced swimmers the two men dived noiselessly overboard and struck out with steady, powerful strokes towards the mouth of the as yet invisible harbour.

Keeping close to the cliff they rounded the projecting arm. Not only was the anchorage quiet—the Malfilio had gone. Unknown to Burgoyne and Minalto the pirate cruiser had proceeded to sea shortly after the Donibristle had been scuttled.

Changing over from breast-stroke to dog-stroke the swimmers proceeded slowly until they touched bottom in shallow water, about a hundred yards from the boat-house. Covering that hundred yards took a full ten minutes. Twice they threw themselves flat upon the sand—once when a lump of rock loosened by the rain crashed down from the cliff; another time when a piece of canvas flapping in the breeze beat a disturbing tattoo upon the side of one of the huts. In each case, imagining that they were discovered, the two men lay still with their hearts thumping violently, until they recovered themselves sufficiently to resume their way.

At length the mass of the tarred boat-shed loomed up through the darkness. The door was securely padlocked. That was reassuring, since it was highly improbable that any of the pirates were asleep within the building. Nor did Burgoyne waste time in filing through the padlock, and thus leave traces of his exploit. Cautiously the two men worked round to the back of the shed. Then Alwyn, standing on Minalto's broad shoulders, deftly wrenched open the already loosened weatherboard.

In less than a couple of minutes the life-boat's masts and sails, in two painted canvas covers, were lying outside the hut. Replacing the weatherboards Burgoyne climbed down to the ground, and, without a word being exchanged, the two men shouldered their respective burdens and retraced their steps.

There was no need to destroy their footprints. Already the sand was covered with the prints of men's boots and bare feet, for daily the vicinity of the hut was a scene of activity.

Arriving at the end of the strip of beach, they again took to the water. The canvas covers with their weighty contents were buoyant, but Burgoyne soon found that it was a difficult matter to swim and push the gear in front of him. It was an easier task, though not so simple to the swimmer, to drag the bundle of masts, spars, and sails behind him.

But deprived of the slight support afforded by the gear, Alwyn found that, although it no longer yawed as before, it was a decided encumbrance by the time half the distance was covered. Apparently Jasper Minalto found the same thing, for directly they rounded the bluff at the entrance of the harbour the sailor ranged up alongside and by the aid of a length of halliard deftly secured the two sets of gear side by side.

After that progress was quicker and much easier, since each swimmer could rest one hand and continue striking out with the other; but their relief was none the less when they arrived alongside the life-boat.

"We'm making sail, sir?" inquired Minalto, as the pair resumed their clothes after having lifted the gear into the boat.

Burgoyne thought wistfully of the favourable breeze, and reluctantly shook his head.

"I'd like to," he replied, "only the canvas would show up too much even in the darkness. We must row. All ready? Then let go!"

Pushing off from the almost submerged rail of the vessel that had been their floating home, the twain shipped an oar apiece, having taken the precaution of muffling the crutches with strips of rag. Then standing in towards the island they skirted the line of cliffs. Here they were safe from detection unless, which was most unlikely, the pirates had posted sentries on the edge of the lofty wall of rock that completely girded the island. There were, they knew, watchers on the look-out both by day and by night on the Observation Hill, but their task was to observe vessels approaching from the offing. The idea of a boat manned by their captives being navigated inside the lagoon and close to the precipitous shore never occurred to them, or if it did they had dismissed it as unworthy of serious consideration.

"There's one way out when the time comes," said Burgoyne, as the small gap on the south-western side of the reef appeared abeam.

"Right-o, sir," replied Minalto. "I know it, havin had to swim across 'en."

A few minutes later the life-boat rounded the extreme south-westerly point of the island. It was now that the most dangerous part of this phase of the operations was threatening; for, having to pass some distance off the detached rock before entering the west bay, the little craft would no longer be masked by the cliffs from the pirates stationed on the Observation Hill.

"Easy—lay on your oars a bit," cautioned Alwyn, as he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the look-out post. The rugged outlines of the hill showed up against the mirky sky, but whether the boat was so plainly visible as it moved slowly through the calm, phosphorescent water was a matter unknown to Burgoyne and his companion. They hoped not and wished themselves farther in shore.

"Give way," ordered Burgoyne.

"Touched wi' my oar, sir," reported Jasper in a low voice. "'Ard rock, tes."

Evidently the shoal ran out farther than the Third Officer had thought. The boat had to be backed and the rock given a much wider berth; all of which took time and kept them longer in sight of the Observation Hill.

Yet, as the moments slowly passed and no disconcerting flash of a rifle came from the look-out post, Burgoyne felt his spirits rise. His immediate goal was within easy distance, and once the boat gained the shelter of the cliffs ultimate success loomed large upon his mental horizon.

At length the life-boat's forefoot took the sandy beach close to the mouth of the cave. Thankfully the two men boated their oars. Only twice in that eight or nine miles had they rested, and the craft was a heavy one to pull.

"Stand by her," cautioned Burgoyne as he leapt ashore. "Don't let her ground too hard. Tide's falling."

As he made his way towards the spot where he expected to find the lower end of the guide rope, Burgoyne had a nasty shock, for advancing towards him were three men.