"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."