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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.

CHAPTER XIX
A Dash for Freedom

The voice of Phil Branscombe quickly reassured the startled Burgoyne.

"It's all right, old man," exclaimed Phil in a low voice. "Everything's O.K. How are things?"

"Ravenous, the pair of us," declared Alwyn.

"I thought so," rejoined the Fourth Officer, "and so as a reward for a good little boy I've brought both of you some grub. Save you drawing on the tinned stuff," he added.

"And Young Bill?"

"Young Bill is there," replied Branscombe, indicating the cave. "She's as plucky as they make 'em. The Old Man got a move on at the finish. Do you want to see him? If so, he's on the top of the cliff."

Burgoyne shook his head. He couldn't speak just then because he was munching bread and bully beef.

"No," he replied at length. After his strenuous exertions and with the prospect of more to come before very long, he did not feel equal to the task of ascending and descending the cliff. "No, he gave me final instructions. I don't think there's anything else. Hello! Why, that's Mostyn! Thought you were still on the sick list, old man. What are you doing here?"

"Coming along with you," replied the Wireless Officer. "Old Man's orders."

"Dash it all!" exclaimed Burgoyne, somewhat taken aback at the prospect of being saddled with a man who not so long since had been lying on his back with a score or more of wounds. "What do you know about handling a boat?"

"I wasn't always a wireless bloke," replied Mostyn.

"I've been used to a sailing boat ever since I was a kid. Also I've brought my share of the grub and a bit over."

Burgoyne capitulated without further protest. Mostyn's declaration that he knew how to sail a small boat more than wiped out the objection.

"All right," he said; then addressing Branscombe and Twill – the third member of the shore party – he continued: "It's no use hanging on to the slack any longer. We've found a water-tank and it wants filling. Mostyn, you might put all the provisions and spare gear on board. Yes, the canvas tanks. They may come in handy."

With four men to handle the tank the task of conveying it filled with water to the boat was a fairly simple one. Under Burgoyne's direction it was stowed between two of the thwarts and immediately for'ard of the centre-board case.

"That's everything, I think," remarked Alwyn. "Now the sooner we're off the better. I want to get at least thirty miles from the island before dawn. Now, Phil, if you will kindly bring Miss Vivian – I mean Young Bill – we'll put off."

Branscombe carried out instructions. Hilda Vivian wearing an old pilot coat (a gift from Captain Davis) over her borrowed clothes, which during her stay on the island consisted of a duck jumper and trousers and a sailor's straw hat, came up to greet Alwyn.

"I'm ready, Mr. Burgoyne," she said; then with a suspicion of a smile she added, "and may I keep my face clean now, please?"

She shook hands and said good-bye to Branscombe and Twill, and was assisted by Alwyn into the boat.

Slipping into the stern sheets Burgoyne gave the word to push off, and the voyage began.

Hilda Vivian was told to sit down upon a pile of canvas in front of the water-tank, where she would be least in the way when the time came to step the mast and hoist sail. Mostyn was pulling bow oar and Minalto stroke. Burgoyne steered, the while keeping an anxious eye upon the cliffs fronting the still hidden Observation Hill.

During the last hour the clouds had dispersed and the stars shone brilliantly, reflecting long shafts of shimmering light upon the gently-undulating water.

Alwyn expressed no appreciation of the change, although rather philosophically he remarked that it was a jolly good job the stars weren't out when they were rowing round the island. Now, although not desirable, the starlight did not count to such an extent. If the boat were sighted it would be an awkward circumstance, but before the pirates could stand in pursuit the life-boat would establish a useful lead and be lost in the darkness.

"You know how that foremast steps, Mostyn?" he inquired in a low voice.

"Ay, ay," was the reply. "I've been watching it, and I've overrun the gear."

"Good enough," rejoined the Third Officer, considerably impressed by the initiative of the latest addition to the crew. "We may have to hoist sail in a hurry before very long."

"Isn't the surf making a roar to-night?" remarked Hilda from her "quarters" for'ard of the water-tank.

"Yes," replied Alwyn. "Good thing; it prevents anyone ashore hearing the sound of oars."

He purposely omitted to add that the exceptionally noisy roar of the surf was occasioned by a heavy ground swell, that, taken in conjunction with the torrential downpour unaccompanied by wind, betokened bad weather at no distant date. None of the officers or men of the captured merchant ships possessed an aneroid, so for prognosticating the weather they had to rely upon Nature's signals – and the unwonted thunder of the surf was one of them.

"Now, steady all," cautioned Burgoyne, as the lifeboat drew away from the shelter of the cliffs. "Clean strokes and no fancy feathering."

Nearer and nearer drew the isolated rock that marked the limits of visibility from the Observation Station. Carefully avoiding the shoal that extended some distance seaward, Burgoyne held on his course until the rock bore broad on his port beam. Another five minutes and the risk of detection would be past.

Slowly starboarding his helm Alwyn brought the boat round until she was eight points off her former course. By so doing, although the action was the only practicable one, he exposed the whole of the life-boat's broadside to the shore instead of being "end on" as previously; but at that increased distance from the island the boat would appear little larger than a walnut-shell.

"We've done it!" he announced gleefully. "Another twenty strokes and we can hoist sail."

The next instant a flash of flame leapt from the pirates' look-out station, and a bullet whizzed shrilly above the heads of the fugitives, ricochetting fifty yards beyond the boat.

"Give way for all you're worth!" yelled Burgoyne. "Keep well down, Miss Vivian, in case they get one in."

Two more flashes followed in quick succession, but where the bullets struck remained a matter for conjecture. Then another, throwing up a feather of spray twenty yards short, ricochetted and sent splinters flying from the life-boat's gunwale.

"Another ten strokes!" shouted Alwyn. "Put every ounce into it."

The stuttering rattle of a machine-gun from the summit of the Observation Hill warned Burgoyne that Ramon Porfirio's ruffians had not had their last say in the matter. The pirates evidently knew how to handle the weapon to the best advantage, for they were training it about five degrees in a vertical plane, so that the hail of bullets struck the water short and beyond the boat and almost every inch of the distance between. They had only to traverse the machine-gun slightly to the right literally to smother the life-boat with lead.

"Way 'nough!" ordered Burgoyne. "Take cover!"

Waiting until Mostyn and Minalto had thrown themselves on to the bottom-boards, Alwyn relinquished the tiller and crouched on the stern gratings. He knew that by the combined action of the wind and tide, added to the way of the boat, they would drift fairly rapidly through the danger zone.

The fusillade ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Alwyn raised his head above the gunwale. The boat was still in the line of fire, but almost on the point of being masked by the detached rock.

"They've got a jam!" he announced. "It'll take another five minutes to clear it, and then they'll be much too late. Up with the masts!"

Considering it was the first time they had stepped the masts in that particular boat the task was accomplished fairly smartly.

"Up foresail," ordered the Third Officer.

Jasper Minalto sprang forward to assist Mostyn to hoist the somewhat awkward dipping lug. When the canvas was sheeted home the boat seemed to leap forward under the quartering breeze.

"That'll do for the present," said Alwyn. "She'll steer better like that until we're clear of the reef. Come aft; we want her trimmed by the stern going through – no, not you, Miss Vivian. You'll do nicely where you are. Are you quite comfortable?"

"Quite, thank you," was the cheerful reply, given in a tone which implied that, having been under fire twice within the last month, the discomfort of sitting upon a pile of canvas on the bottom-boards counted for naught.

"Right-o," continued Alwyn. "Directly we gain the open sea we'll rig you up some sort of tent."

"But I'm not at all tired," protested Hilda.

"You will be before morning," rejoined the Third Officer. "We've a very long way to go, you know, and there are no rugs, hot-water bottles, or Thermos flasks aboard this packet."

With that observation Burgoyne glanced ahead under the foot of the bellying sail. He could now discern the gap in the reef, bearing roughly a couple of points on the starboard bow.

"Give her about a foot of plate," he ordered, "and a couple of inches home with the sheet."

Mostyn promptly lowered the centre-board to the required distance, while Minalto took a pull on the fore-sheet. The life-boat no longer drifted to leeward, but on the contrary showed a decided tendency to "eat her way" to wind'ard. All the same Burgoyne anticipated a bit of a struggle in taking the boat through the narrow gap in the reef. There was a fairly heavy "tumble" on the comparatively shallow bar, with seas breaking on each side of it. An error of judgment might easily result in the boat being dashed upon the coral ledges on either hand.

"Stand by with an oar," ordered Burgoyne. "In case we have to steer with it. I doubt whether the rudder will have much grip when she's in the thick of it."

The Third Officer's whole attention was fixed upon the passage through the reef. What was happening ashore did not trouble him in the least. He knew that long before the pirates could rush a machine-gun round to the summit of the south cliffs the life-boat would be well away from land – provided she wasn't swamped or battered against the dangerous ledges.

Meanwhile Jasper Minalto had lashed a fourteen-foot oar to the stern-post, allowing sufficient play for the blade to be moved to the right extent in a horizontal plane. Should the rudder fail to grip as the boat climbed the steep sides of the waves the oar would serve to keep her from broaching-to, and from being almost inevitably swamped.

Putting the helm up until the boat was running almost free Burgoyne steered for the smoothest patch in that almost regular line of breakers, for there was about twenty yards where the heavy swell did not break, although it reared itself menacingly across the whole extent of the narrow entrance.

The noise of the surf was now deafening, as the ground swell, rolling in against the wind, threshed irresistibly upon the low-lying reef. Already the steady movement of the boat through the tranquil waters of the lagoon was giving place to a jerky motion, as the first of the spent rollers began to make themselves felt.

The little craft was travelling fast. Although many of the disconcerting conditions were hidden by the darkness, the milk-white foam showed up conspicuously through the night, while to the roar of the surf was added the whine of the ever-increasing wind.

Now they were in the thick of it. Like a racehorse the boat charged the first of the steep rollers, and lifted gallantly to the curling wall of water. Throwing showers of spray far and wide from her sharp stem, she slid gracefully down the other side, although it took every ounce of strength on the part of Burgoyne and Minalto to prevent her from broaching-to.

She took the next wave badly, shoving her nose into the crest and shipping it green over the bows; then staggering she managed to overrun the third breaker and gained the comparatively safe water beyond.

"That's all serene," shouted Burgoyne. "Get the water out of her, Mostyn."

He half expected a protest from Miss Vivian, but the girl had not stirred, although the floor-boards were six inches deep in water. She had, however, taken the precaution of wrapping a piece of canvas round her – Burgoyne had meant to caution her, but in the quick flight of time during the approach to the reef he had omitted to do so – and had come off comparatively dry.

"She's carrying all she can, I think," said Alwyn, raising his voice to reach Mostyn and Minalto, both of whom were busily engaged in baling out.

"I'm carrying nothing, Mr. Burgoyne!" exclaimed Hilda, rather astonished at words that apparently related to her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, thanks," replied Burgoyne. "'She' applies to the boat. I mean she has as much sail as we can set without risking a capsize. It's all right as things go; but we may have to reef."

"I reckon she's doing eight knots," remarked Mostyn, who, having completed his task of baling out, had come aft.

"A good eight," agreed Burgoyne. "Will you take her now? Minalto and I have had a pretty tough time."

"Right-o," replied Mostyn, glad of the opportunity of "feeling the kick of the helm" again. "What's the course?"

"Sou' by east," said Alwyn, handing the Wireless Officer the pocket compass. "Don't watch the needle; steer by a star and check your course occasionally. You'll find it much simpler than straining your eyes in the starlight. Call me in about a couple of hours – earlier if you want me."

Giving a glance astern Burgoyne saw that the line of foam was almost invisible, the island entirely so. If the breeze held – he was not anxious for it to increase in force – the secret base would be forty or fifty miles astern by daybreak.

"Now, Miss Vivian," he said cheerily. "We're going to fix you up before Jasper and I turn in. Are you hungry? There's some ship's biscuits going. That's our staple fare for a bit, I'm afraid. You're dry, I hope? Externally, I mean. Good! Now we'll rig you up a tent."

Lashing the loom of one of the oars to the mast at a height of six inches above the mast-clamp and resting the blade in a roughly-made boom-crutch, Burgoyne and Minalto deftly stretched a sheet of canvas over the oar, securing the ends to the thwarts.

"There you are," said Alwyn. "As we say in the Merchant Service you'll be as snug as a – an insect in a rug. We can't allow you much head-room, in case the foot of the sail flies over. Now Jasper and I are turning in. If you want me just shout and I'll be up in a brace of shakes."