The Island Queen, Robert Michael Ballantyne [best books to read for women .txt] 📗

the party, at least till they all got ashore.

This little compliment to the man whom he had so recently defied had a softening influence on the mate, and the proposal was well received by the people, who, even during the few minutes of anarchy which had prevailed, were led to appreciate the value of order and government.

"You are right, Binney," said the mate. "I would advise you all, good people, to go below and rest as well as you can, while I, and those who choose to act under me, will go ashore and make the best possible arrangements for your landing in the morning."

"Now, why don't ye do what ye'er towld at wanst?" cried Mrs Lynch, who had evidently made up her mind that the reins of government were not to be entirely given up to the mate. "It's not wishin', are ye, to get wetter than ye are, a'ready? Go below, ivery wan of ye."

Like a meek flock, the women and children obeyed the mandate, being absolutely in bodily fear of the woman, while most of the men followed them with a laugh, or a little chaff, according to temperament.

Before the latter had left the deck, Malines suggested that Joe Binney and his brother David should accompany him on shore that night, to represent the emigrants, as it were, and assist him in the proposed arrangements.

"Besides," he added, "there is just the possibility that we may fall into a trap. We know nothing about the man who has come off to us except his voice, so that it will be wise to land with some of our best men armed."

Of course the brothers had no objection to this plan, and accordingly they, with the mate and four of the ship's crew--all armed with cutlasses and pistols--got into one of the boats and were lowered into the water on the lee side of the vessel, where Dominick and Otto had been quietly awaiting the end of the foregoing discussions.

In a few minutes they reached the shore, and then Dominick shook hands with them, and welcomed them to the islands, "which," he said, "we have named `Refuge Islands.'"

"Run up to the cave, Otto," he whispered, while the party was engaged in drawing up the boat. "Stir up the fire and rouse Pina,--tell her to prepare to receive company."

"She'll be as much puzzled as if I told her to prepare to receive cavalry," muttered the boy as he ran up to the cave.

"Hallo! Pina! rouse up, old girl," he shouted, bursting into the cave, and falling on his knees before the embers of the fire, which he soon blew up into a flame. "I say, Pina! hallo! Pina! Pi-i-i-i-na!"

"Dear me, Otto, what is wrong?" asked the sleepy voice of Pauline from behind her screen.

"Wrong?" cried her brother, "nothing's wrong--that is, everything's wrong; but don't be afraid, old girl, all's right. Dress as fast as you can, and prepare for company!"

"What _do_ you mean?" cried the girl, by that time thoroughly aroused, and somewhat alarmed by Otto's words and excitement.

"Can't explain. No time. Get up, make yourself presentable, and come out of your den."

As he spoke Pauline lifted the curtain door of her apartment and stepped into the outer cave, which was by that time all aglow with the ruddy blaze.

"Do you call yourself presentable?" asked Otto, laughing; "why your hair is raised like the back of a wild cat."

It is only right to say that the boy did not do his sister justice. An old shawl thrown hastily on, and descending in confused folds around her slight, graceful figure, invested her with an air of classic simplicity, while her pretty face, surrounded by a wealth of dishevelled, but beautiful, hair, was suggestive of something very much the reverse of a wild cat.

"Are you prepared, sister, for a stunning surprise?" said Otto, quickly, for he heard the approaching footsteps of the party.

"I'm prepared for anything," said Pauline, her lustrous eyes and her little mouth opening simultaneously, for she also heard the numerous footfalls outside.

"'Tis well!" cried Otto, starting up, and assuming a heroic attitude as he waved his right hand toward the door of the cavern, "no time to explain. Enter Dominick, with band of robbers, headed by their captain, amid shrieking wind, forked lightning, and peals of thunder!"

As he spoke, Pauline, despite her surprise, could scarcely refrain from laughter, for Otto's words were fulfilled almost to the letter. Amid a strife of elements that caused their frail erections to tremble, the little door burst open, and Dominick, stooping low to save his head, entered. He was followed by the gaunt, dark form of Malines, who, in rough garments and long fishermen's boots, with pistols in belt, and cutlass by his side, was a particularly good representative of a robber-captain. Following him came the still more gigantic Joe Binney, and his equally huge brother David, after which trooped in the boat's crew one by one.

As each man entered he stood stock still--dumb, petrified with astonishment--as he gazed, saucer-eyed, at Pauline. Bereft of speech and motion, she returned the gaze with interest.

Oh! it was a rare treat to Otto! His little bosom heaved with delight as he watched the shipwrecked men enter one after another and become petrefactions! Some of the sailors even dropped their lower jaws with wonder.

Dominick, who, in the bustle of action, had not thought of the surprise in store for his visitors, burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

"It was well got up, Otto," he said at last.

"No, it wasn't, Dom. I do assure you it was not got up at all, but came about in the most natural manner."

"Well, got up or not," returned Dominick, "here you are, friends, in what we have styled our golden cave, and this is my sister Pauline-- allow me to introduce you, Pina, to part of a shipwrecked crew."

The youth's laughter, and the introduction which followed, seemed to disenchant the mariners, who, recovering self-possession with a deep sigh, became sheepish in bearing, and seemed inclined to beat a retreat, but our heroine quickly put them at their ease. With a natural tact and grace of manner which had the appearance of, but was not meant for, dignity, she advanced and offered her little hand to Malines, who seemed to fear that he might crush it unintentionally, so slight was the shake he gave it.

"You are heartily welcome to our cavern," she said. "I'm _so_ grieved to hear that you have been wrecked."

"Don't mention it, Miss. Not worth speaking of, I assure you; we're quite used to it," replied Malines, not knowing very well what he said.

The ice, however, was broken. From this point all went on, as Otto said, swimmingly. The mate began to relate the circumstances of the recent wreck, while Pauline and Otto spread the remains of their supper before the men, and set about roasting the fowls that had been intended for the morrow's breakfast.

Before long the gale began to abate, and the sailors went out with Dominick, to select a spot on which the emigrants might encamp, being aided in this work by a struggling and fitful moonlight. After that Malines went back with his party to the ship, and Dominick returned with Otto to court slumber in the golden cave.


CHAPTER SIX.


SHIPWRECKED EMIGRANTS AND HORRIFIED CONSPIRATORS.

The scene which presented itself on the morning after the storm is not easily described, and the change to the trio who had up to that time lived so peacefully on Refuge Islands' Reef was so great that they found it difficult at first to believe it was other than a dream.

On awaking, indeed, Otto saluted his brother with the exclamation--

"O Dom, I've had such a comical dream!"

"Indeed, my boy," said Dominick, "I fear it was no dream, but a reality."

At this Otto suddenly sprang up, and ran out to relieve his mind on the point. A few seconds sufficed. On clearing the bushes he beheld the new wreck lying not far from the old one, and saw from the crowds of people who were being put into the boats that the emigrant ship had been no mere creature of his imagination. It was evident that the boat which had just quitted the vessel's side contained the first band of emigrants, for the only people yet landed were a few men, who busied themselves in putting up a rude shelter for the women and children, and in kindling fires for the preparation of breakfast on a little mound between two and three hundred yards from the golden cave.

By that time the storm had blown itself out, and the rising sun was mounting into a cloudless blue sky, and covering the sea with dazzling ripples, which looked as if the very water were laughing with joy at the sudden change from darkness and fury to light and peace.

Conspicuous among those who worked on shore was the gigantic form of Joe Binney. Considering him an old acquaintance. Otto ran up to him and shook hands.

"How many emigrants are there of you?" he asked.

"Three hundred, more or less, master, but I ain't rightly sure; there's such a many that it's difficult to count 'em when they are all a-movin' to and fro."

"Here, Joe, catch hold o' this post, an' keep it steady till I make it fast," said Hugh Morris, the seaman who has been described as one of the most turbulent among the men.

While Joe assisted in the erection of the canvas booth or shelter, he gave Otto a good deal of information regarding the vessel, the emigrants, the crew, and the misunderstandings which had occurred previous to the captain's death.

"It's well for one man that we've bin wrecked, anyhow," remarked Morris, stepping back with an artistic air to survey his handiwork.

"You mean the young doctor," said Joe.

"That's who I mean," returned Morris. "Doctor John Marsh. He's the only man in the ship that's worth his salt, but I fear he's a doomed man."

"I hope not, Hugh, though there _are_ one or two men on board worth more than their salt," said Joe, with a peculiar smile, as he returned to the care of a large kettle of beans, from which the sailor had called him.

On Otto inquiring what was the matter with the doctor, Joe Binney explained--

"He's been ill a'most since we left England, owin' to a fall he had in tryin' to save one o' the child'n as was tumblin' down the after-hatch. He saved the child, but broke one or two of his own ribs, an' the broken ends must have damaged his lungs, for, ever since, he's bin spittin' blood an' wearin' away, till we can hardly believe he's the same stout, hearty, active young feller that came aboord at Gravesend. Spite of his hurt he's bin goin' among us quite cheerful-like, doin' the best he could for the sick; but as Morris says, he looks like a doomed man. P'r'aps gittin' ashore may do him good. You see, bein' the only doctor in the ship, he couldn't attend to hisself as well as might be, mayhap."

While Joe and Otto were conversing, the first boat load