“Silence, sir!” roared his officer; and then what happened was too much for him, for a dark shadow came from somewhere amongst the trees, a shadow-like something which described a curve and struck the speaker full in the chest, and fell to the ground in the shape of a great unhusked cocoanut.
In an instant the lieutenant’s hand flew to his sword, but he checked himself. His act, though, had its effect, for there was a yell of laughter, and the one great nut was followed by a shower, two of which half drove the two young officers mad as they struck heavily, the rest having effect amongst the sailors, who with one impulse fell into line and presented arms.
There was another yell of laughter, and the overseer sprang up from his cane chair.
“That’ll do!” he shouted; but he made no effort further to check his men, but dashed in through one of the open windows of the house, just as from another came the sharp flash and puff of smoke from a rifle, followed by a ragged volley from the creeper-covered building that lay farther back.
This was answered by a fierce British cheer and a rush on the part of the sailors, who either carried their officers with them or were led—no one afterwards seemed to know—but in almost less time than it takes to describe, the little party of sailors swept through the plantation house from front to back, driving its defenders before them, and without firing a shot till a few desultory rifle-shots began to spatter from the thick patch of tropic forest which sheltered the back of the attractive dwelling. Then, and then only, three or four volleys silenced the enemy’s fire, and it was evident that the overseer and his men had now fled, taking with them the planter, if he had not retreated by his own efforts, for he was nowhere visible. Then all was silence as soon as the rustling and crackling of cane and the heavy shaddock-like foliage had ceased.
Chapter Twenty Three.
Murray’s Mission.
“Hah! I did not mean this,” cried the lieutenant; and his eyes lit upon Murray, who winced and felt guilty as he stood dirk in hand panting and waiting for his superior officer’s reproof, which he felt must come. “Ah, Mr Murray,” he continued, as he took off his hat and wiped his forehead, “you there? Any one hurt?”