CHAPTER XXI.
THE CHARGE OF ENSIGN LAWE.
Lieutenant Swift felt bound by the orders of his late commander, all the more because of his sad fate. Accordingly he tacked ship, and avoided the stroke of the Ram, which in turn tacked, though somewhat more clumsily, and followed the Ken toward the Brownie fleet. Again Swift tacked and put the head of his ship toward Ellen's Isle. Then the Ram gave up the Ken and bore down upon the Emma, as though resolved to seal the fortunes of the fight with the destruction of the Brownie flag-ship.
Rodney was in sore straits. His officers and crew were greatly demoralized. His sailors were superstitious; and there was something so contrary to all that Natties had ever known or heard of in the character and exploits of this audacious stranger, that superstition was aroused. They could fight Pixies, but this was a sea-ghost. There was no use contending against it. There was nothing to do but bout ship and sail away. But what humiliation! And after so noble a victory! To add to the perils of the position, the Stygian ships had weighed anchor, and were closing upon the Brownie fleet hard in the wake of their Ram. At last duty overcame pride in Rodney's heart, and he gave the order to retire up the channel.
Ensign Lawe, with his squad of cavalry, had watched from a knoll on the lake shore the progress of events. His heart sunk within him as he saw the loss of the Brownie ships and crews. "I can't stand this any longer," he cried, as the boats of Pipe and True sank before the Ram's stroke. "To the rescue, my lads! Charge!"
Fig. 91.—Signal Flags: B, Red; F, Blue, White Circle; L, Blue and Gold (Yellow); T, Red, White, Blue; D, Red, White Circle. Can you read the Order?
Without waiting to see whether or no he was followed by his battalion, he mounted his bee pony and rode at full speed toward the Ram. His troopers followed, muttering loudly against their leader's folly, but unwilling to disobey. The Pixies saw him plunging through the air, and greeted him with loud yells of mockery.
"What is Lawe about?" asked Rodney.
"It looks as though he were minded to charge upon the sea monster," answered the mate.
"What folly! Why, look there! the madcap is charging almost alone upon the very front of the Ram! He is gone daft! Are you sure that is Ensign Lawe? I never knew him to do such an insane act. He is one of the coolest heads we have. It's too bad—too bad! The fellow is throwing away his life; and we've lost too many valuable officers already." Rodney sighed, and thought of his lost boatswain, the very right arm of his fleet.
The Ram was steadily pursuing the Nattie ships now in full retreat. The wind blew up the channel. It would be a stern chase, which is always a long chase. Half the Pixie navy followed with the Ram; the other half had tacked across the lake toward the foot of the island, with the intention of sailing up the opposite channel, and thus heading off the Natties ere they reached the inlet. They had bold plans afoot, and thought to destroy the whole Brownie fleet.
This man[oe]uvre had turned attention from the daring ride of Ensign Lawe. Yet the Ensign was not such a madcap as his countrymen declared him, nor such a fool as his foes supposed. He had seen at once that the masts and rigging usual to sailing vessels were wanting from this new craft; he could therefore approach a-horseback with comparative safety. That there must be some assailable point, some port-hole, some door, something penetrable he felt sure.
"I will find my way to it," he said in his heart; "or at least find out where it is. I will uncover the secret power that works this destruction, or find out the monster's weak points and give knowledge of it to the Commodore."
He had now reached the Ram. He swept above the prow. No opening there! He hovered over the deck. All hard and smooth there! He skimmed along the sides. No port-holes, no seams, no sign of break or opening there. He flew past the side, and hung in the air above the vessel's stern. A dart whistled by his face. He felt the vibrations of the air on his cheek.
"Hah! There is an opening then in your solid shell? That dart came from some vent. Let us see!"
He pressed his gallant nag closer to the Ram. His keen eye caught the varnished curtain that hung across the stern. He saw one side of it tremble and lift a little as he circled about it. The weak point in the sea monster was exposed! Hurrah! He would try the metal of a Brownie cutlass against that varnished curtain! If he could cut that open, the waves would rush into the hull, and the Ram would sink into the lake with the noble barks that it had destroyed.
Lawe tightened his bridle reins as he thus meditated, and drew his cutlass. He dropped a little astern of the Ram, but well to the port side, so that he might sweep straight across the stern. He poised himself firmly, bent over in the saddle, and cried, "Go, my good nag!"
Golden Rule, as his pony was named, sprang to the voice of his master as though conscious of what depended upon him. He passed across the stern of the Ram so closely that his wings almost touched it.
Whi—rr—rr!
The Ensign's sword ripped through the curtain, and Golden Rule shot by like an arrow.
Quickly Lawe turned and swept back again on the same track. Again the blade cut through the curtain, with a downward stroke this time that laid open a vertical seam.
"Once more, my brave Golden!" said the Ensign, patting his pony, and he swept the third time across the face of the curtained door. The top and both edges were now severed from the sides of the shell. The curtain dropped over so that one corner dragged in the water. The hollow hull of the shell ship was exposed, and within it the angry faces of a group of Pixies.
The work wanted yet the finishing stroke. One side of the curtain was slit down to the water line. The waves were already washing in thereat; but the other side was only partly severed. It needed one stroke more—just one! That would lay the curtain level with the lake; then the billows would roll in, and claim the Pixies and their infernal machine for their own.
A fourth time Lawe swept across the stern of the Ram. A fourth time his good sword did its work without fail. The true eye and steady hand of the Ensign sent it home to the mark. The curtain trembled a moment in the breeze, fell backward with flap and splash upon the surface of the lake, and dragged behind, checking the Ram's motion as though it were a heavy anchor, and then weighed the stern downward to the surface. The waves broke in with a roar that echoed through the hollow hull. The groans and yells of the Pixie crew answered back the voice of the waters.
Lawe cast one exulting glance within as he rode by. But he was doomed to a more terrible trial than he had yet endured. As he sped across the opening on his fourth trip, a dark form leaped upon him from the hold. He was in a Pixie's clutch! One claw grasped the Ensign's foot, the other was buried deep in Golden Rule's breast. The pony, frantic with terror and pain, plunged and shook his wings. But the Pixie kept his hold. Lawe looked downward into his face. He saw the black visage, and sneaking eyes of Lieutenant Hide!
"Ha, ha," laughed the Pixie. "You know me, do you? Well, you've done a fine thing to-day, no doubt! Your name shall go down to posterity, of course. But I think I shall stop you from going down any further in that line. We shall try another sort of going down. There's nothing like pleasant company, even when one's making a voyage to the bottom of the lake! Ha, ha!"
The malignant creature spoke truly. They were sinking slowly together, horse, rider and Pixie into the lake. The weight of Hide's body might have been overcome, but the motion of the pony's wings was much hindered. Golden Rule struggled nobly, but fell steadily toward the water. Ensign Lawe had by this time recovered from the shock of the unexpected assault.
"Grammercy, for thy courteous invitation," he said, coolly. "I choose to decline thy bidding and thy presence. In sooth, we shall part company now."
The Boy's Illustration.
Fig. 92.—The Sinking of the Pixie Ram.
Once, twice, and again the faithful cutlass glanced in the sunlight. The first stroke cut loose the Pixie's claw from the pony's breast; the second divided the arm by which his own foot was held; the third, following quickly, smote upon the head of the wretched creature as he tumbled, like Lucifer of old, into the bosom of the lake.
There was a ripple upon the water; a faint pool of blood tinged the face of Lake Katrine, and the waves closed forever above the dead body of Hide, the son of Shame. Golden Rule, released from his burden, shook his wings gladly and mounted aloft. Lawe cast his eyes downward just as the Pixie Ram settled, surged, and plunged stern foremost into the lake.
Thus perished at the hands of Ensign Lawe, the famous sea ghost, the Pixie shell-clad Ram. The machine was a brilliant thought, the conception of Hide himself. It was just what it seemed to be, the shell of a water snail. Entering this empty shell, Hide and his engineers had closed the opening with a web or curtain of varnished silk, which kept the water out.[AP] Then paddles were fitted up in the stern, revolved by hand cranks within, and thus the vessel was directed by those inside. To ordinary assault it was invulnerable at every part except the curtain which covered the opening, and thereat had the keen blade of Ensign Lawe found entrance, and so the way to victory.