Matters were becoming frightfully critical now. Should I have time for another shot, I wondered? As the thought flashed through my brain a rifle shot rang out from the poop, and, glancing that way, I saw the boy Julius with a Remington repeater at his shoulder aiming at the rapidly advancing boat. And—what I had absolutely forgotten—I saw also the Maxims standing there, ready for action! To dash up on to the poop and level the port Maxim at the enemy was the work of but a moment, and the next instant the deadly little weapon was thudding away, pouring its leaden stream fair into the boat. At that range—a bare three hundred yards—it was impossible to miss, and in a few seconds every occupant of the boat was either dead or wounded; the oars trailed motionless in the water, the boat lost her way, and in less than a minute it became evident that the craft was sinking, literally riddled with that leaden hail.
“Hurrah!” I yelled. “There goes the last of them, and, thank God, that danger’s over! Now for the junk herself. She must be settled, or there will be no safety for us.”
I made my way down to the main-deck again, very nearly tumbling head over heels over Mrs Vansittart and her daughter, whom I found seated upon the stairs of the companion way. I paused just long enough to explain the situation to them, and then rushed out on deck in time to see the last boat, submerged to her gunwale, slowly roll over and go down bows first, leaving a few forms feebly struggling on the surface.
The junk was by this time completely becalmed and had lost her way; nevertheless she maintained a fairly steady fire upon us, and some of her shot came so unpleasantly close that I thought it well to order Julius down off the poop, where he could be of no further use. I got to work with the main-deck guns again, and, possibly because I could take all the time I pleased over the aiming, did some very neat shooting. I fired six shells in all at the junk, every one of which but the first went home—three of them close to her water-line.
They were destructive missiles, those shells, bursting as they hit and blowing great holes in the junk’s sides; and it soon became apparent that the vessel was sinking rapidly. I therefore ceased firing and went up on to the poop to see the last of her. But she died game, for her crew maintained a steady fire upon us until she foundered, her last shot being fired at the very moment when she was plunging stern first beneath the waves. And by an unlucky chance that last shot came slap aboard the wreck, struck the teak poop rail within a foot of where I stood, and scattered a number of splinters, one of which, a heavy one, caught me in the side of the head, very nearly scalped me, and sent me reeling to the deck senseless.
I recovered consciousness slowly, my first sensation being that the top of my head seemed to be on fire. Then I became aware that I was being partially supported by somebody’s knee behind my shoulders, and that my head was being bathed. Finally I opened my eyes, to find Mrs Vansittart bending over me with a sponge in her hand, which she was just withdrawing from a basin of bloodstained water, while the boy Julius supported me in a semi-recumbent position as I lay on the deck.
“Ah, that is better!” exclaimed Mrs Vansittart, as she bent over me. “He is coming to himself. Lizette,” raising her voice; “hurry with that brandy. Is your head very painful, Walter?”
“It feels as though it were being held much too close to a fierce fire,” I replied, “and, in addition, it is aching most atrociously. It is most unfortunate that—”
“Yes, it is indeed, you poor boy!” replied Mrs Vansittart as I paused, a feeling of deadly nausea sweeping over me. “Ah,” she continued, as the chief stewardess appeared with a tumbler in her hand, “here is the brandy! Sip this, Walter; it will revive you. And as soon as you are able to move, we must get you below, and I must attend to your head and dress it properly. Then you must go to bed and endeavour to get some sleep. You have taken splendid care of us this morning, and now it will be our turn to take care of you.”
“Oh, thank you very much!” I murmured; “but I hope this unlucky blow on the head is not going to make me a nuisance to you. As to turning in, I simply cannot do it. A careful watch must be maintained for several hours yet, lest some of the men from that junk should swim to the wreck and get aboard us. Even so few as half a dozen able-bodied Chinamen could make a lot of trouble for us just now.”