Ronald Morton; or, the Fire Ships: A Story of the Last Naval War

by William Henry Giles Kingston

What cared Ronald now for wounds, or for the enemies who were attacking him! Supporting Edda with one arm, he kept them back, and prevented them from rescuing their companion. Suddenly Bob Doull sprang to his feet, and laying about him with his cutlass, quickly put the rest of the Frenchmen to flight.

“Oh, Ronald, what happiness to be saved by you!” murmured Edda, scarcely conscious of what she was saying, as Morton, followed by Bob Doull, who kept a cautious look-out on every side, returned to the huts.

Those words revealed to him what he had scarcely dared to hope. He found old Doull severely hurt, while Colonel Armytage had been unable to follow, in consequence of his former wounds. He did not recognise Morton, but he expressed himself full of gratitude to the gallant officer who had been the means of rescuing his daughter. Mrs Armytage was soon afterwards conducted back to the huts; she, with the other ladies and children who had been earned off, having been rescued by another party of seamen. The remainder who had escaped, and hid themselves, now made their appearance; husbands and wives looking for each other, and mothers and nurses hunting for their children.

Glover and the boatswain now sent two midshipmen from the forts, to announce their capture, and to state that they had secured the garrisons. It was thought advisable, however, to get the ladies on board without delay.

Captain Winslow and the officers and the crew of the “Osterley,” who had been hutted at a distance from the rest, on hearing the firing, had broken through the sentries, and hurried to the spot. Arms were put into their hands, and they were directed to hold the centre fort, while the passengers were once more conveyed on board.

Ronald would not entrust Edda to the care of any one, but had supported her on his arm till the boats were ready to embark the passengers; he now carefully placed her in one of them, with her mother, and other ladies, under charge of Colonel Armytage.

“I would that I could accompany you on board, but my duty keeps me on shore. I know not what number of the enemy may be on the island; they may rally and attack the forts: it is of the utmost consequence that they should be held by us till the ship is clear of the harbour: you and your companions will be safer on board than even within one of the forts. I trust by dawn to be on board, and to carry you off in safety from the scene of your captivity.”

These words, which might have been spoken to any ordinary person, were heard by all, but the tone of voice and the gentle pressure of the hand were understood by her to whom they were addressed, and she whispered, that she was sure whatever he did was for the best.

As soon as the boats shoved off, Ronald went round to visit the forts. He found Glover and his party standing guard over the prisoners they had captured—a ragamuffin crew composed of natives of nearly every country in the world, and from their appearance Ronald had strong suspicions that they might deservedly be looked upon as pirates. In the other fort Mr Tarbot, the boatswain, had charge of a similar crew. They were very sulky, and as the light of the lanterns fell on their scowling countenances, Morton thought that they looked capable of committing any atrocity, and he felt grateful that Edda and her friends had been rescued from their power.

The sound which gave him the most satisfaction through the hours of darkness was the regular striking of the bell on board the Indiaman. It assured him that her people were on the alert, and that all was going on well. It was nearly dawn when, hearing a sentry hail, he hastened to the spot. “A friend,” was the answer, and he recognised the voice of old Doull; he directed him to come into the fort, and he soon appeared with a companion, whom he introduced as Archy Eagleshay. The latter was a man very similar in age and appearance to Doull, though his countenance betokened far less acuteness and intelligence. Ronald was much relieved at the return of Doull. On many accounts he was anxious not to lose sight of him, and for the present it was specially important to have him on board the “Osterley,” to take her out of the harbour through the intricate passages by which he had piloted her in.