The Pirates' Treasure Chest (7 Gold Hunt Adventures & True Life Stories of Swashbucklers). Эдгар Аллан ПоЧитать онлайн книгу.
an ambush planted."
"All right, Sam."
The Englishman turned to give Stubbs orders for arming the crew.
In the darkness a groping little hand found mine.
"Must you go, Jack? I—wish you would stay here."
My arm slid around the shoulders of my girl.
"It's up to me to go, honey."
We were alone under the awning. Her soft arms went round my neck and her fingers laced themselves.
"You'll be careful, won't you? It's all so horrible. I thought it was all over, and now—— Oh, boy, I'm afraid!"
"Don't worry. Blythe will hold the ship."
"Of course. It isn't that. It's you. I don't want you to go. Let Mr. Stubbs."
I shook my head.
"No, dear. That won't do. It's my place to go. But you needn't worry. The gods take care of lovers. I'll come back all right."
Her interlaced fingers tightened behind my neck.
"Don't be reckless, then. You're so foolhardy. I couldn't bear it if—if anything happened to you."
"Nothing will happen except that I shall come back to brag of our victory," I smiled.
"If I could be sure!" she cried softly.
The sinister sound of shots had drifted to us as we talked. The boat was by this time lowered and I knew I must be gone. Gently I unclasped the knotted fingers.
"Must you go already?" She made no other protest, but slipped a plain band ring from her finger to my hand. "I want you to have something of mine with you, so that——"
Her voice broke, but I knew she meant so that the gods of war might know she claimed ownership and send me back safe. For another instant she lay on my heart, then offered me her lips and surrendered me to my duty.
"Ready, Jack!" called Blythe cheerfully.
I ran across the deck and joined the man in the skiff. We pushed off and bent to the stroke. As our oars gripped the water the sound of another far, faint explosion drifted to us.
We landed a couple of hundred yards to the right of the spit and dragged our little boat into some bushes close to the shore.
I gave Smith instructions to stay where he was unless he heard the hooting of an owl. If the call came once he was to advance very quietly; if twice, as fast as he could cover the ground.
The mosquitoes were a veritable plague. As I moved forward they swarmed around me in a cloud. Unfortunately I had not taken the time to bring the face netting with which we all equipped ourselves when going ashore.
Before I had covered fifty yards I heard voices raised as in anger. Presently I made out the sharp, imperious tones of Bothwell and the dogged persistent ones of Henry Fleming.
"I'll do as I please. Understand that, my man!" The words were snapped out with a steel edge to them.
"No, by thunder, you won't! I don't care about the cattleman, but Gallagher and Alderson were my shipmates. I'm no murderous pirate."
"You'll hang for one, you fool, if you're not careful. Didn't Gallagher desert to the enemy? Wasn't Alderson against us from start to finish? Didn't one of them give me this hole in my arm just now? They'll either join us or go to the sharks," Bothwell announced curtly.
From where I stood, perhaps forty yards north of the cache, I could make out that my friends were prisoners. No doubt the pirate had taken them at advantage and forced a surrender. Of Barbados I could see no sign. Later I learned that he had taken to his heels at the first shot.
Twice I gave the hoot of an owl. Falling clearly on the still night, the effect of my signal was startling.
"What was that, boss?" asked a Panamanian faintly.
"An owl, you fool," retorted Bothwell impatiently. "Come, I give you one more chance, Gallagher. Will you join us and share the booty? Or shall I blow out your brains?"
Gallagher, from where he lay on the ground, spoke out firmly:
"I'll sail no more with murderous mutineers."
"Bully for you, partner!" boomed the undaunted voice of the cattleman.
"And you, Alderson?"
"I stand with my friends, Captain Bothwell."
"The more fool you, for you'll be a long time dead. Stand back, Fleming."
As I ran forward I let out a shout.
Simultaneously a revolver cracked.
Bothwell cursed furiously, for Henry Fleming had struck up the arm of the murderer.
The Russian turned furiously on the engineer and fired point-blank at him.
The bullet must have struck him somewhere, for the man gave a cry.
Bothwell whirled upon me and fired twice as I raced across the moonlit sand.
A flash of lightning seared my shoulder but did not stop me.
"Ha! The meddler again! Stung you that time, my friend," he shouted, and fired at me a third time.
They were the last words he was ever to utter . One moment his dark, venomous face craned toward me above the smoke of his revolver, the next it was slowly sinking to the ground in a contorted spasm of pain and rage.
For George Fleming had avenged the attempt upon his brother's life with a shot in the back.
Bothwell was dead almost before he reached the ground.
For a moment we all stood in a dead silence, adjusting our minds to the changed conditions.
Then one of the natives gave a squeal of terror and turned to run. Quick as a flash the rest of them—I counted nine and may have missed one or two—were scuttling off at his heels.
George Fleming stared at the body of his chief which lay so still on the ground with the shining moon pouring its cold light on the white face.
Then slowly his eyes came up to meet mine.
In another moment he and his brother were crashing through the lush underbrush to the beach. I judged from the rapidity with which Henry moved that he could not be much hurt. From the opposite direction Smith came running up.
I dropped to my knees beside Yeager and cut the thongs that tied his hands.
"Hurt?" I asked.
"No," he answered in deep disgust at himself. "I stumbled over a root and hit my head against this tree right after the game opened. Gallagher and Alderson had to play it out alone. But Bothwell must have had fourteen men with him. He got Gallagher in the leg and rushed Alderson. You dropped in right handy, Jack."
"And not a minute too soon. By Jove! we ran it pretty fine this trip. Badly hurt, Gallagher?"
"No, sir. Hit in the thigh."
I examined the wound as well as I could and found it not as bad as it might have been.
"A good clean flesh wound. You're in luck, Gallagher. The last two days have more than wiped out your week of mutiny. We're all deep in your debt."
"Thank you, sir," he said, flushing with pleasure.
Here I may put it down that this was the last word Gallagher heard about his lapse from duty. He and the other reconstructed mutineers were forgiven, their fault wiped completely off the slate.
I sent Alderson down to the spit to signal the Argos for a boat. One presently arrived with Stubbs and Higgins at the oars. The little cockney was struck with awe at sight of the dead man.
"My heye, Mr. Sedgwick, 'e's got 'is at larst and none too soon. 'Ow did you do it?"
"I didn't do it. One of his friends did."