The Ambush.
"Down with the 'cademy swells!" yelled the governor. "Rush in on 'em! Drop that cheese-knife, spooney, or down comes this yere stick right on top of your cocoa-nut."
The attack was too sudden and furious to be successfully resisted. The Crusoe men rushed to close quarters with the students, the light cutlasses of the latter, which were intended more for show than use, were beaten from their hands, and in scarcely more than five minutes from the time the fight began, Johnny and his friends were prisoners. This was certainly a big "backset," and one they had not dreamed of.
"Well, sir, we done it, didn't we?" panted the governor, leaning on his club, and gazing down at his captives. "That was a splendid idea of your'n, cap'n, an' we've carried it out, too. You see," he added, by way of explanation, "we've been watchin' you ever since you come into the creek. We saw the bugglars capture you sailors, an' we were glad they done it, 'cause it saved us the trouble of doin' it ourselves. We knew when Harding went aboard the schooner, an' when we saw that you were goin' to get her under-way, we studied up a plan to bring you ashore. We couldn't think of losin' our vessel, you know—she's got to take us to our island yet—so we hid ourselves in the bushes an' sent the skipper out on the bank with orders to show himself to you. We knew that the sight of him an' the money would fetch you over here, if any thing would, an' we knew, too, that if you did come, we six fellers were men enough to whip you four in a fair fight. Wasn't it purty well done?"
The young tars thought it was, and wondered that they had not suspected something of the kind. They might have known that Tom, in spite of all his hostile demonstrations, had no intention of fighting them single handed. He was not the boy to put himself in the way of bodily harm if he could avoid it, and, now that it was too late, they were surprised that they had been deceived by so shallow an artifice. The skipper's boldness had blinded them completely. It led them to believe that he had become separated from the rest of the Crusoe men, and that he was alone, and that, realizing his helplessness, and knowing that he could not escape from so swift a runner as Johnny Harding, he had resorted to the desperate expedient of trying to frighten the boat's crew. If the idea of bringing them into an ambush originated with him, it was certainly something for him to be proud of.
"What do you intend to do with us, Sam?" asked Johnny.
"We're just goin' to keep you with us, that's all," replied the governor. "We aint quite foolish enough to let you go back to your friends, 'cause they would come up here an' take our vessel, an' we want to use her to-night. As soon as it comes dark we are goin' to start on our cruise ag'in, an' when we are safe from the Storm King an' all the tugs, we'll set you ashore on some island an' leave you to find your way back to the village as best you can."
The day was a long one to the Crusoe men and their prisoners. They were tired, hungry, sleepy, and thirsty. The creek flowed by within a hundred yards of their concealment, but the governor had issued positive orders that no one should venture near it. Who could tell but that some of the students were sneaking about the island, or that the robbers were concealed among the bushes on the opposite bank, watching for them? The members of the band grumbled, as usual, but submitted—after Will Atkins, who declared that he was going to have a drink of water whether the governor was willing or not, had been taken down and thoroughly shaken—and between sleeping and watching the long hours passed slowly away. The lower the sun sank into the western horizon the longer the hours seemed to grow; but night came at last, and when it had grown quite dark, the governor picked up the valise, and gave the order to start.
"Untie the prisoners' feet, fellers," said Sam, "an' let them walk to the boat. When we get aboard the schooner we'll pitch into the grub an' water, and then we'll be ready to start. Xury, you take charge of the jolly-boat."
The Governor and Tom, the former holding fast to the valise, were first carried across. They examined the schooner very closely before going on board, but her deck was deserted, and there was no one in the cabin, hold, or galley. The governor drew a long breath of relief. "There's no arthly use in my sayin' that I aint afraid of them bugglars," said he, "'cause I am. I thought sure we'd find 'em stowed away somewhere about the schooner, but they're ashore lookin' fur us, an' we're all right. Didn't we say that we'd larn 'em a thing or two before we were done with 'em? They're the biggest dunces I ever saw. If they had any sense at all they would know that we wouldn't desert our vessel fur good. How could we get to our island without her, I'd like to know! Now, Xury, go back with the jolly-boat an' bring two of the prisoners across."
While the jolly-boat was gone Sam and Tom made heavy inroads on the crackers and cheese, and drank a good portion of the small supply of water they had taken on board at the cove, and which was intended to last until they reached the Elizabeth Islands. They were in excellent spirits, and talked and laughed over their meal, telling wonderful stories of what they intended to do when they reached their island, and not forgetting to say a word or two concerning the robbers and the trick they had played upon them. The jolly-boat came back in due time, with
Johnny and the lieutenant, who were pulled over the rail, conducted into the cabin, and tumbled into the bunks—not, however, until their feet had once more been securely bound. Johnny, especially, was very roughly handled by Tom Newcombe, who said to him, as he pushed him about:
"I knew I'd have a chance to square yards with you. You will learn, before I am done with you, that a man never makes any thing by imposing upon me. Don't you think I should be serving you right if I were to give you a good thrashing?"
Johnny, who was sitting on one of the bunks, looked down at Tom, and watched him while he tied his feet, but had nothing to say.
"You tormented me almost to death while I was in the village," continued the skipper. "If you passed me fifty times a day, you always had some question to ask about the Crusoe band."
"Well, that was because I felt an interest in the society, and wanted to know how the members were getting on," said Johnny.
"Do you know what I intend to do with you? I shall keep you on board this vessel until we arrive within a few miles of our island. Lie down there, now, and keep quiet."
As Tom said this he pushed Johnny into the bunk and went out, leaving him to his meditations.
If the captain of the pirate vessel could have his own way, the prisoner certainly had a dreary prospect before him. He felt a good deal as did Bob Jennings, when he lay on the sofa in the cabin of the Storm King, and Xury was taking her down the harbor in the face of the tempest. But his situation was worse than the fisher-boy's, for he was to be kept a prisoner until the voyage of the Sweepstakes was nearly ended. There was no sport in being obliged to remain in that hot cabin bound hand and foot; and when he remembered that the night promised to be very dark; that a black cloud hung threateningly in the horizon, and hoarse mutterings of distant thunder had been heard all the afternoon; that the navigation of the bay was at all times dangerous, and especially during a high wind; that Tom was scarcely sailor enough to handle a sail-boat in calm weather—when Johnny thought of all these things, it may be imagined that he was not very well pleased with his situation. The only consolation he could find was in the hope that the Sweepstakes might be speedily captured.
In half an hour all the prisoners had been stowed away in the bunks, the Crusoe men had satisfied their appetites, and the governor was ready to perform another duty that had been on his mind all the afternoon. It was something he did not like to do; but the well-being of the loyal members of the band demanded it. "Will Atkins," said he, "you an' Jack Spaniard take some grub an' water to the prisoners."
"Atkins! Atkins!" repeated the mutineer. "Can't nobody in this band do nothing except Atkins?"
"Silence!" commanded the chief, sternly. "Do as you are told, to onct, an' without any more growlin'. I've give you one lesson to-day, an' if you don't mind your eye, I'll give you another. Mark you, now. Don't untie their hands, but feed 'em yourselves, an' give 'em all they want, too."
The discontented members, fearing to disobey, sullenly gathered up an armful of crackers, filled a cup with water, and went into the cabin. The governor watched them suspiciously until they disappeared, and then, turning to Xury, said:
"Well, was I right or wrong?"
"You were right," answered the mate. "They are just spilin' to get their hands on that money, an' I told 'em that I'd help 'em. We've made up a plan to steal the valise when we stop at the Elizabeth Islands fur water."
"I knew I couldn't be fooled easy," said the chief, "but I wanted to be sure. I'll fix 'em for that."
The skipper and Friday did not understand this conversation, but the governor in a few words explained. He said that ever since Tom's new idea was communicated to the band, he had been suspicious that Atkins and Jack Spaniard were watching their chance to desert the vessel, and make off with the valise—he had seen it in their eyes. In order to satisfy himself on this point, he had commissioned the mate to pump them. Xury had acted his part well, and having succeeded in making the mutineers believe that he was dissatisfied with the way the affairs of the band were conducted, they had taken him into their confidence. The evidence against them was now conclusive, and the governor thought it high time they were secured and deprived of their power for mischief. The other members of the band thought so, too. The captain, as usual, was very indignant, and would have made a lengthy speech on the subject, had he not been interrupted by the chief, who informed him that it was a time for action, not words.
"Let each of us get a rope," said Sam, "an' we'll go into the cabin an' make prisoners of 'em. Friday, you an' Xury pitch into Jack Spaniard, an' me an the cap'n will take care of Atkins. Don't waste no time, now, for it ain't best to give them too much show."
The governor led the way into the cabin, where the mutineers were busy feeding the prisoners. Atkins was holding a cup of water to Johnny's lips. He started and turned pale when he saw the angry looks of the chief, and the rope he carried in his hand, and instead of pouring the water into the prisoner's mouth, he spilled it all down his neck.
"Now, look at that!" said Johnny.
"Aha!" exclaimed the governor, "your looks are enough to tell the whole story. Didn't I say that I knew you an' Jack Spaniard were up to something?"
That was enough for Atkins, who, knowing that he was betrayed, dropped his cup and bounded toward the ladder; but the governor, being on the alert, clasped him in his arms, and with the assistance of Tom Newcombe, secured him very easily. Friday and Xury attacked Jack Spaniard, who, seeing his companion helpless, surrendered without any attempt to resist them.
"This is some of your work," said Atkins, glaring fiercely at the mate.
"Well, I reckon I know that, don't I?" coolly replied Xury.
"An' you promised, honor bright, that you wouldn't never say a word to any body, an' you shook hands on it."
"All them things go for nothing when a feller's actin' the part of a spy. You went back on me an' the cap'n when we were in trouble, an' now we are even with you."
"Chuck 'em into the bunks, fellers," said the chief. "We haint got so many men as we had a little while ago, but them that's left are true an' law-abidin'. Cap'n, we'll get under-way, now."
When the new prisoners had been disposed of, Tom led the way to the deck, and after half an hour's hard work, the Sweepstakes was got clear of the bushes, the sails were hoisted, and the Crusoe men and their captives were moving swiftly down the creek toward the bay. While the governor and Tom were coiling down the ropes and clearing up the deck, the latter repeated what he had said to Johnny Harding; and after a few objections from Sam, who did not want to be bothered long with the prisoners, it was decided that Johnny ought to be punished, and that the best way to do it would be to put him ashore on some desert island in the middle of the ocean, and leave him to take his chances of finding his way back to Newport. The captain could not rest easy until he had communicated this decision to Johnny; so when every thing was made snug, and Friday had been stationed on the forecastle to act as lookout, he ran down into the cabin. At the foot of the ladder, he came to a sudden stop, and stood with his neck stretched out, his mouth open, and his eyes almost starting from their sockets. In the middle of the cabin was a small hatchway, which led into a little store-room where 'Squire Thompson kept his nets and other fishing-tackle stored away, and that hatchway was open, and a pair of evil looking eyes, that belonged to Sanders the burglar, were peering over the combings. The Crusoe men were not rid of the robbers after all.