The Third Officer: A Present-day Pirate Story. Westerman Percy Francis
both funnels and consequent reduction of draught had counteracted the strenuous efforts of Angus and the engine-room staff to "keep their end up". Far below the water-line, working in semi-darkness owing to the fact that the hammering to which the boat had been subjected had broken the electric-light current, unable to see what was going on, the "black squad" toiled like Trojans in the unequal contest with the fast and powerfully armed pirate.
A glance astern showed the Third Officer that the Donibristle was steering a somewhat erratic course. The straggling wake was evidence of that. Perhaps it was intentional on the Old Man's part in order to baffle the pirate gun-layers; but Burgoyne decided to make sure on that point.
Crossing to the starboard side, so that the partly-demolished deck structure might afford a slight amount of cover, Alwyn ran for'ard. Scrambling over mounds of debris and crawling under the wrecked funnels he hurried, holding his breath as he dashed through the whirling wreaths of smoke.
At last he arrived at the starboard bridge ladder – or rather where the ladder had been. Only two or three of the brass-edged steps remained. Here he paused. The edge of the bridge hid the skipper from his view. He retraced his steps for a few paces and looked again. There was the Old Man still grasping the wheel. The sides of the wheel-house were shattered, daylight showed through the flat roof, but Captain Blair remained at the post of honour and danger.
It was evident that he had been hit again. One arm hung helplessly by his side. The white sleeve of his tunic was deeply stained.
Burgoyne hesitated no longer. He wondered why the Second Officer had not noticed the skipper's predicament, but the Second had followed the First, and was lying motionless across the dismounted binnacle.
Without waiting to cross over to the port side and ascend by the almost intact ladder, Burgoyne swarmed up one of the steel rails supporting the bridge, and gained the dangerously swaying structure.
The Old Man looked at him as he approached.
"Women aboard," he muttered, like a man speaking to himself. "Women aboard and the dirty swine are firing into us. Worse than Huns."
"Shall I carry on, sir?" asked Burgoyne.
"No," was the reply. "But – yes. Carry on, I've stopped something here. Feel a bit dazed."
He stood aside and allowed Alwyn to take his place at the wheel. In the absence of a compass there was nothing definite to steer by. The Donibristle, like a sorely-stricken animal, was merely staggering blindly along at the mercy of her unscrupulous pursuer.
Then it dawned upon the Third Officer that the cruiser had not fired for some minutes. It was too much to hope that the pirate, sighting another craft, had sheered off. He glanced aft, across the debris-strewn decks, tenanted only by the dead. The pirate cruiser was still there. She had closed her distance, and was about two cables' lengths on the merchantman's starboard quarter. She had lowered the White Ensign, and now displayed a red flag with the skull and crossbones worked in black on the centre of the field. This much Alwyn saw, but what attracted his immediate attention was the plain fact that he was looking straight at the muzzles of four of the pirate's quick-firers, and, as the cruiser forged ahead, those sinister weapons were trained so that they pointed at the merchantman's bridge and the two men on it.
Burgoyne realized that if those guns spoke he would not stand a dog's chance. Through long-drawn-out moments of mental torture he waited for the lurid flash that meant utter annihilation. He wanted to shout: "For Heaven's sake fire and finish with me."
Yet the quick-firers remained silent, although not for one moment did the weapons fail to keep trained upon the Donibristle's bridge. There were machine-guns, too, served by yellow, brown, and white featured ruffians, who were awaiting the order to let loose a tornado of bullets upon the defenceless merchantman.
The tension was broken by the appearance of a gigantic mulatto, who, clambering on to the domed top of the for'ard gun-shield, began to semaphore a message. He sent the words slowly, coached by a resplendently-garbed villain who spelt out the message letter by letter.
The signal as received read thus:
"Surrend ers hip savey our lifs. Ifno tuues ink shipa ndnoq uarta."
"What's that fellow signalling?" asked Captain Blair. Faint with loss of blood he could only just discern the slow motion of the coloured hand-flags.
Burgoyne signified that the message was understood, and bent to speak to the wounded skipper.
"They've signalled, 'Surrender the ship and save your lives; if not we will sink you and give no quarter'."
The Old Man raised himself on one elbow. The pulse on his uninjured temple was working like a steam piston.
"Surrender the ship!" he exclaimed vehemently. "I'll see them to blazes first."
CHAPTER V
Captured
"Very good, sir!"
Fired by the dogged bravery of the skipper, Alwyn stood erect and prepared to semaphore a reply of defiance, but before he could do so Captain Blair called to him.
"After all's said and done, Burgoyne," said the Old Man feebly, "we've put up a good fight. No one can deny that. And there are women aboard, though p'raps 'twould be best – "
His voice sank and he muttered a few inaudible sentences.
"I'm slipping my cable," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "so it doesn't much matter to me. There are the others to consider – what's left of them. Quarter, they promised?"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Then we'll chuck up the sponge. Tell the villains we'll surrender. If they don't keep their word (now make sure you understand) tell Angus to stand by, and if there's any shooting he's to open the Kingston valves."
"Aye, aye, sir," agreed the Third Officer. He realized that if the pirates failed to keep faith in the matter of quarter, then the Donibristle– the prize they so greatly desired – would be sunk by the simple expedient of opening the underwater valves.
"We surrender," semaphored Burgoyne.
It was a hateful task, but upon reflection he agreed with his skipper's amended decision. The Donibristle had not thrown up the sponge without a gallant resistance dearly paid for in human lives. It remained to be seen whether the terms of surrender would be honoured by the horde of polyglot pirates.
Gripping the bridge-rail Burgoyne shouted out the order: "All hands on deck."
The summons was obeyed promptly, but how few responded to it! There was Branscombe, with his arm in a sling and an ugly gash on his cheek; little Perkins, the Fifth Officer, who had never before smelt powder; Holmes, the purser, and Adams, the steward, both looking like butchers after tending the wounded; Heatherington, the junior wireless operator; and fifteen of the deck-hands, several of whom bore visible signs of the gruelling they had undergone. In addition were Withers and Nuttall and seventeen firemen of the "watch-below", the rest under Angus remaining at their posts in the engine- and boiler-rooms. Of the rest of the officers and crew eleven had been killed outright or mortally wounded, including the First and Second Officers, and close on twenty hit.
The officers and men who had fallen in on the boat-deck, unaware of the trend of events, were watching the pirate with puzzled looks.
Burgoyne went to the skipper to obtain further instructions before obtaining assistance in order to take him below. Captain Blair was unconscious. Wounded in half a dozen places, he had carried on until the ship was no longer his to command. As senior surviving deck officer, Alwyn was now responsible for the act of surrender.
"We've given in," he announced to the assembled men. "There was no help for it. The cruiser has promised us quarter. Lower the ensign."
As the torn, tattered, and smoke-begrimed Red Ensign was lowered and untoggled, wild yells burst from the throats of the ruffian crew. They did not know how to cheer; they could not if they did. It could only be compared with a concerted roar of a hundred wild beasts.
The shouts ceased, not abruptly, but in a long-drawn-out howl. The captain of the pirate cruiser was shouting