Within The Enemy's Lines, Oliver Optic [red scrolls of magic txt] 📗

boat came alongside, 132 and a bowman fastened his boathook at the side of the ship, and held it in place. At the same moment Boxie let drive his sixty-pound shot; but he ought to have waited an instant longer, for the missile dropped harmlessly into the river.

The bowman had not obtained a good hold, and he lost it, so that the boat began to drift astern. Captain Carboneer shouted his orders, and the man got a new hold, and this time it was at the painter of the boat in which Sampson had brought off Mr. Watts and the ladies. It had been forgotten in the excitement of the moment, but the rope afforded a good hold to several men who had grasped it.

At this thrilling moment, a man wearing a frock-coat discharged a revolver at Christy, who was standing on the rail above him, and then, seizing the painter in the hands of the men, he climbed briskly to the accommodation steps, which had been hoisted up, but not taken on board.

Christy was in the most dangerous position on board, for he seemed to be the target for all who could use their revolvers. But the young commander was not asleep, though he had given no order for the last minute or two. The boat was 133 directly under him, and he had put his pistol in his hip-pocket, in order to take up the solid shot at his feet. It was heavy, but he lifted it over his head without any difficulty, and launched it into the boat with all the force he could give to it.

"On deck, there! Let go that painter!" shouted Christy, as he pitched his missile from his hands.

He was in a position so favorable for the operation that he could not well miss his aim, and the shot crashed through the bottom of the boat, carrying down one of the enemy with it. It did not make a round hole in the bottom of the boat, it was afterwards ascertained, as it might if it had been fired from one of the broadside guns, but it tore off the planking, and made a hole as big as the head of a flour-barrel.

"Lay hold of that man on the accommodation ladder!" shouted Christy, without waiting to observe the effect of his shot, for the man who had succeeded in mounting the side was armed with a dangerous weapon, which he was likely to use as soon as he found the opportunity.

The men forward of the point where the boat had come alongside had been ordered aft, and a 134 couple of them dragged the venturesome officer, as his frock-coat indicated that he was, to the deck. Christy was almost sure this man was Haslett, who had certainly set a bold example to his companions in the boat. He was quickly secured, and by no gentle hands. His hands were tied behind him, and he was made fast to the rail, where he was likely to be harmless during the rest of the trip.

It was no easy matter for a boat to make fast to a steamer going ten knots an hour at least, and if the painter of the boat had not been carelessly left where it could be of service to the assailants, the affair would have ended with Boxie's unsuccessful cast of the shot. But as soon as the painter was let go, an order which Sampson hastened to execute, the enemy's hold upon the ship was lost, though they were using boathooks and other implements to make sure of their grasp. The boat was left behind by the ship, though not till the hole had been stove in her bottom.

"Beg pardon, Mr. Passford, for missing my heave with the shot," said Boxie, on the deck; and the veteran's heart seemed to be almost broken by his failure.

135 "You are very excusable, Boxie; one can't expect to hit every time, and you did very well," replied Christy, who had suddenly passed from painful doubt and uncertainty to exultation and exaltation at the victory achieved. "We are all right now."

"But the enemy are not," added Sampson, who had mounted the rail after he had secured the prisoner. "They are all afloat."

"They will get ashore in some way, or back to the Vampire," replied Christy, and he descended to the deck, and hastened to the engine-room.

136 CHAPTER XII THE PRISONER OF WAR

"What in the world have you been doing, Christy?" asked Mrs. Passford, as her son entered the engine-room; and her anxiety was visible in her tones and looks as she spoke.

"We have been repelling boarders, mother," replied the middy, his face wreathed in smiles.

"What do you mean by that, my son?" inquired his mother.

"Well, mother, you are the daughter of a distinguished naval officer, and it seems to me you must understand what repelling boarders means," answered the young commander, laughing merrily; and no one in the engine-room could fail to see that he was in the highest state of exhilaration, now that the safety of the ship had been assured.

"Of course, I know what it means," added the lady.

"And I don't mean boarders at the hotel, who 137 are repelled by strong butter and tough steaks," chuckled Christy.

"I wish you would explain yourself, my son."

"I will, mother mine. The fellows we fired at when we were at anchor have just attempted to board the Bellevite, and thus obtain possession of her, as they failed to do in Mobile Bay, as well as at our anchorage in the Hudson." And he proceeded to explain in detail all that had occurred on board and alongside.

"My dear boy, I had no idea that you had been engaged in a battle!" exclaimed the fond mother.

"It wasn't much of a battle, though a good many pistol-shots were fired at us; but a sixty-pound shot did the business on our side, and we left the enemy, or a portion of them, paddling in the river, and trying to keep their heads above water. But I must not stay here, for I have to look out for the steering of the ship," continued Christy, as he moved towards the door.

"You whipped them out, did you, midshipman?" added the engineer.

"We did; and there isn't any doubt of it. I shouldn't wonder if some of them had lost the number of their mess. But I think it is settled 138 for the present that Captain Carboneer don't go to sea in the Bellevite. By the way, I had forgotten that we took a prisoner, and perhaps he will be willing to tell us something more about his enterprise."

"Who is the prisoner?" asked Mrs. Passford.

"He is an officer, I judge, for he wore a frock-coat."

"The party could not have had a great many officers. It was not the captain, was it?"

"No; I am sure it is not he. I think it must be the naval officer whom Captain Carboneer called Haslett; but I have not seen him except as he was shinning up the painter of the boat. You can go on deck if you like, mother and Florry, or you may come with me into the pilot-house," added Christy.

The engineer had to remain on duty, and Miss Florry mildly objected to leaving her present comfortable position on the sofa of the engine-room; but as her mother wished to go with her brother, she felt obliged to go with her.

Christy gave his mother and sister places on the sofa abaft of the wheel, and then looked into the position of the steamer. But the two quartermasters 139 had so often steered the steamer up and down the river that they had done very well, and there was no especial need of the midshipman as a pilot. The Bellevite was not going at anything like her best speed, or at her usual rate at sea. As she was going, it was about a four-hours' run to New York, and Christy was not in a hurry to get to his destination.

"Beeks, we have a prisoner, and I should like to take his measure," said Christy to the senior quartermaster. "You may go aft and ask Sampson to bring him into the pilot-house."

"Bring him into the pilot-house," repeated the man, as he left the apartment.

"What are you going to do with your prisoner, Christy?" asked Mrs. Passford.

"I shall hand him over to the proper officers, and they can do what they please with him," replied the middy. "I don't want him: do you, mother?"

"What should I want of him?"

"Perhaps you want him, Florry?" asked Christy of his sister.

"I am sure I don't," she replied, pouting.

"Perhaps you will want him when you have seen him," added the middy roguishly.

140 At this moment Sampson appeared at the door of the pilot-house, conducting his prisoner, whose hands were still tied behind him. Christy did not see him at first, for he was looking at his sister; but her pretty face suddenly turned crimson, and her brother heard the sound of footsteps in the apartment.

As soon as he saw the prisoner, he started back in astonishment, though perhaps there was no particular reason to be surprised. It was not Mr. Haslett, as he had supposed, and it certainly was not Captain Carboneer. But it was Major Lindley Pierson, late commandant of Fort Gaines. Christy had not expected to meet him, and that was the only reason why he was astonished.

"Major Pierson!" exclaimed the midshipman, as soon as he had in some degree recovered from his astonishment. "I believe we have met before somewhere."

"Without a doubt we have, Captain Passford," replied the major, who no longer belonged to the Mulgate family.

"Not a captain, if you please; but I am none the less glad to see you on that account. This is really a very unexpected pleasure."

141 "And quite as unexpected to me, I assure you, especially to meet the ladies," added the prisoner as he bowed low to Mrs. Passford and her daughter. "I had hoped I might meet Mrs. and Miss Passford before I returned to the South."

"And you had even hoped to take one of them back with you as a passenger in the Bellevite," Christy interpolated, with great good nature.

Major Pierson looked at him with a start, and it was his turn to be astonished. He was a prisoner, but he had the privilege of wondering how Christy knew so much about his affairs.

"Captain Carboneer is a very obstinate man, and did not take kindly to the carrying of lady passengers in a man-of-war; but I think he was right, though my view may be of no consequence to you," added the young officer. "I have the highest opinion of Captain Carboneer, for he is a solid, substantial man. By the way. Major Pierson, who is he?"

"He is Captain Carboneer," replied the major discreetly.

"Perhaps he is Captain Carboneer; I don't know: things are not always what they seem, and 142 I find that persons are not, either. Hasn't that been your experience, Mr. Mulgate—I beg your pardon, Major Pierson?"

The prisoner frowned, and gave a fierce glance at the midshipman, as though he felt like annihilating him with a look. But he evidently considered just then that he was in the presence of the ladies, and perhaps that the flash of his eagle eye would not kill his tormentor, as the young man seemed to have become.

"I am your prisoner, or somebody's prisoner, Captain Passford, and the tables are turned against me. Of course, you don't expect me to give information that will be of use to the enemies of my country."

"Of course not."

"When you were my prisoner, I think I treated you like a gentleman," added Major Pierson.

"I think you did, sir; and that reminds me that your hands are tied behind you. You were so kind as to release me from my bonds when I was in your power"—

"And it was the stupidest thing I ever did in my life," interposed the prisoner, with some bitterness.

143 "I am not familiar with the events of your life, and I cannot gainsay your remark."

"You did not scruple to turn our own guns against us."

"As you would have done if you had succeeded in capturing the Bellevite," added Christy, smartly. "This time makes twice that you did not capture her."

"The third time may not fail."

"It may not; but I must be as magnanimous as you were. Sampson, release the gentleman."

"Thank you, Captain Passford; that is no more than I did for you when you were in the same situation."

"But I suppose you will not undertake to capture this ship after I have done as well by you as you did by me. I