THERE she was, just rounding the point—the bonnie, white-winged barque—and standing1 in for the beach near to which the natives dwelt.
“That’s a blackbirder,” said Stransom, “as sure as I’m a sailor. But we shall stop her game, shan’t we, Fitzroy?”
There was no time to lose.
The savages2 had already assembled on the beach to give the enemy a warm welcome, and Stransom sent a black fellow off at once to the king, bidding him be of good cheer, because Fitzroy and Gourmand3 would be with them round his own kraal without a moment’s delay.
This was done, but the blackbirders had the cruelty to fire a volley at the retreating cannibals, killing4 and wounding several. The men from the fort now hurried up, making a slight detour5 through the bush in order to keep out of sight. Gourmand carried the swivel gun. Fitzroy and the{167} other two, rifles and the ammunition6. There was a battery in front of the native village, and behind this they quickly hid.
The blackbirders landed in three well-armed boats, and forthwith commenced the attack, stopping every now and then to fire a volley at the trenches7. This was harmless enough, and Stransom would not permit the savages to show themselves, although they were now burning for revenge.
Probably the blackbirders—a more cutthroat-looking crew it would have been impossible to conceive—suspected an ambuscade, for they now advanced somewhat more slowly.
Again they fired.
And immediately the trenches replied—a regular peppering volley that both astonished and staggered these accursed slave-hunters.
“Back to your boats, you villains,” shouted Stransom, “or we’ll blow you to Jericho.”
A volley was all the reply, and on came the blackbirders with a rush. They thought to carry the trench8 by storm.
The swivel gun was emptied into their very midst, and the slaughter9 was terrible: what had been a crowd of living men seemed now but a mangled10 mass of dead and dying. For{168} even those unwounded threw themselves down and shouted for mercy.
It needed all the skill of the cannibal king to prevent his men from utterly11 wiping out the enemy. They were restrained, however, after a fashion, yet nearly all the wounded were speared.
Stransom and his men gathered round the rest and made them prisoners.
As the fight took place well out of sight of the few men left in charge of the barque, these had no idea what had occurred.
The leader of the raid was the captain of the ship himself. He was wounded, but had sufficient strength to sit up, and his eyes met those of Stransom. The man was Allison, first mate of the old Vulture.
“Allison, it is you!”
“It’s me, skipper. I deserve my fate. Let me now die in peace.”
“Die in peace, you shall,” answered Stransom, “but, my good fellow, had you not been wounded I should have hanged you!”
Fitzroy now advanced. The playwright13 had some knowledge of surgery, and at once applied14 a tourniquet15 to the mutinee{169}r’s bleeding limb, and dressed it as well as he could.
The man was very faint, and begged for water. A negro lad climbed a cocoa-nut tree and threw down some of the greenest fruit.
After Allison had drunk, he appeared to fall asleep, and Fitzroy got the giant to carry him gently in under the shadow of the banana shrubs16.
Presently he opened his eyes. Fitzroy was kneeling by his side.
“Don’t leave me,” he moaned. “Don’t let me die just yet. I have that on my mind I would fain confess—and it concerns yourself—and Peggy McQueen.”
Meanwhile Stransom, with Johnnie and the giant, had gone off in one of the boats, towards the barque. They had the swivel gun in the bow.
As soon as they were near enough they hailed, “Ship ahoy!”
“Ay, ay. What’s in the wind?” cried a black-bearded, cut-throat-looking man over the stern.
“You’ve got to surrender, that’s all, my sweet little seraph17. Your game’s up. Surrender quietly and your innocent life will{170} be spared. If you make a bit of bobbery, I’ll hang you from your own jibboom.”
“We surrender.”
“Does you now? Well, that is really very thoughtful of you. Been a blackbirder myself, though, darling. So just fire your guns in the air to please me, and to show us all is safe.”
“Curse you!” cried the ruffian.
The rifles rang out, and immediately after were flung on the deck.
Next minute, Stransom and Johnnie stood on the blackbirder’s poop.
“Good-morning,” said the former, with provoking coolness. “Sulky was he? Eh? Ah, but his mother’s darling mustn’t. Your new captain, that’s me, doesn’t like sulky boys. Ah! he smiles! See this little thing? Look, this is a revolver. His new captain doesn’t want to shoot, but must now send all hands below, prisoners—four of you? Eh? All right, down all of you to the hold. And when your new captain comes back he’ll let you all free and not hang anybody if everybody will be good and do as he is told.”
In five minutes more all four blackbirders were under lock and key.
“She’s safe enough,” said Stransom, as{171} they pulled back shorewards. “They can’t weigh anchor and give us the slip.”
Allison’s Strange Story.
Fitzroy poured a little brandy from his flask18 into the man’s mouth. He swallowed it, and presently he felt strong enough to raise himself slightly and to sit supported in the arms of a native.
“Mr. Fitzroy,” he said, “you must bear with me, and you must forgive me for what I have done. Can you? Do you?”
“I do,” said Fitzroy, solemnly, “as I hope to be forgiven when as close to the shadow of the grave as you are now.”
“You remember, sir, when Peggy McQueen first came into your charge?”
“I remember when I first adopted the dear child.”
“You were paid to do so. The money you received helped to set you up in life.”
“If there has been any setting up in it,” answered Fitzroy.
“You have been successful ever since.”
“Till now, yes, fairly so.”
“And you knew, Peggy had a history which you did not trouble your head much to inquire into?{172}”
“Perhaps, perhaps; but come, what has this to do with your confession19?”
The man had fainted, but was soon restored, and went on again.
He was weaker now, however, and again Fitzroy held a little more brandy to his lips.
“In my pocket—feel,” he said, slowly, “a key.” The left jacket pocket. Yes, that is it. When you go on board, open my private drawer, and you will find letters to testify to the truth of all I tell you. Peggy McQueen is a stolen child—stolen that she might not reap the benefits of an uncle’s will. This uncle was an old bachelor and lived with his sister-in-law—yes, the address is in my drawer—the estate, it is a fine one, would be his only brother’s had he died without a will. His only brother was his greatest enemy. He loved the child, and left her all his fortune. But the very night on which he died this evil brother came to me. I was poor, and fell an easy prey20 to bribery21.
“Oh, horrible!” continued the dying man. “I was told off to steal Peggy and throw her down a disused well.”
A light began to dawn on Fitzroy’s mind now, for he remembered the story poor Peggy{173} had told him about her meeting with the beautiful, white-haired lady in her own park, and about everything that happened.
He grasped Allison by the cold hand.
“And you—you murdered another child and threw her into the well—you stole Peggy and—sold her to me!”
“No—no—there was no murder. I could not do that, but—God forgive me, I robbed a grave of its little girl inmate22. It was a ghoulish thing to do. It was her corpse23 in Peggy’s clothes that was found down the well.”
“Yes, but——”
“Listen, for I feel I am going fast. When the money I received for the—the deed—was squandered—I blackmailed24 the evil brother! He laughed at me first, but when I told him that Peggy was still alive, and threatened to bring her up, he trembled like the coward he was, but promised that if I brought the child to him—but I would not—I was bribed25 again—but my men failed to kidnap her. Then came the plot to get you and her out of the country to a place where she would never likely be heard of again.”
“Hold a moment! There was no Macgilvray?{174}”
“No—no—it was all a plot to ruin you—forgive—I—I——”
It was no faint this time. The brandy Fitzroy tried to pour into his mouth ran out again over his cheeks and chin.
Fitzroy lowered him slowly to the ground and left the place, sad, though he did not know why, and wondering if all this could be true.
But he had the key, and before nightfall he would know everything.
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收听单词发音
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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3
gourmand
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| n.嗜食者 | |
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4
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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5
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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7
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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8
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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9
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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10
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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11
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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12
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
playwright
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| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
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14
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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15
tourniquet
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| n.止血器，绞压器，驱血带 | |
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16
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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17
seraph
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| n.六翼天使 | |
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18
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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19
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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20
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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21
bribery
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| n.贿络行为，行贿，受贿 | |
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22
inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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23
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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24
blackmailed
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| 胁迫，尤指以透露他人不体面行为相威胁以勒索钱财( blackmail的过去式 ) | |
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25
bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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26
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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27
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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