Читать книгу Missee Lee - Arthur Ransome - Страница 7

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Wind and the darkness had come together. There was a biggish sea running but the little Amazon, lying to her sea-anchor, was riding it well. Nancy and Peggy, tired after the shock of the fire, were sleeping fitfully in the stern. Captain Flint, with a corner of the centreboard digging into his back to keep him awake, was looking in the direction where he had last seen it for a glimmer of Swallow’s lantern. There was not a sign of it, but that did not disturb him much. In a hard wind, in a tossing boat, the lantern might very easily have gone out and John would have found it by no means so easy to light it again. There came a lull. He listened for a hail from John and then hailed himself, “Swallow, ahoy!”

Nancy and Peggy woke with a start, heard him, looked round in the darkness and hailed with him, “SWALLOW! AHOY!” And then the wind freshened again and was blowing as hard as ever.

“No good,” said Captain Flint. “They couldn’t hear us and we couldn’t hear them.”

“I say, Uncle Jim, why aren’t they close to us?”

“Where’s their lantern?”

“Gone out. Lucky ours hasn’t. Have they got torches?”

“John has, anyway,” said Peggy.

“Well, now’s the time to use them,” said Captain Flint.

“I say, you do think they’re all right?”

“Better off than we are,” said Captain Flint. “No centreboard case to prod into their ribs.”

“Swallow did capsize once, but that was only because of a rock....”

“She didn’t capsize then, you tame galoot. Don’t you remember? She just holed herself and sank and her mast went clean over her bows.”

“She wouldn’t capsize without her mast and sail up,” said Captain Flint.... “Anyway, not if they kept down in the boat, and John would see to it that they did. And there are no rocks out here. She’ll be all right. Shut up, you two, anyway. Go to sleep, it’s no use yelling in a wind like this. You go to sleep till dawn and we’ll find them then....”

“But they were only a few yards off....”

“Shut up,” said Captain Flint. “There’s nothing to be done till daylight.”

A second time Nancy and Peggy were waked by a roar from Captain Flint.

“AHOY! SHIP AHOY!”

They started up and stared about them, blinking at the hurricane lantern that Captain Flint was holding up and waving. Had he caught sight of Swallow’s lantern? Had he seen the flash of a torch?

“AHOY! ... SHIP AHOY!” he shouted.

“Where?” said Nancy. “What is it?”

“Chinese fisherman, probably,” said Captain Flint. “No sidelights, of course. AHOY!” he shouted again.

“There,” cried Peggy. “Look ... look ... She’s right on us.”

A dim light was swaying towards them.

“SHIP AHOY!” roared Captain Flint, and then, “Why doesn’t that idiot, John, show a torch? They may easy run him down if they don’t see him.”

The light, swaying towards them over the seas, brightened. There was a shout. Captain Flint shouted back. Suddenly, thirty or forty yards away, a door opened. They saw people, black shadows flitting across a square patch of light. They heard the crash of water under the bows of a ship.

“You take the lantern, Nancy,” said Captain Flint. “Ship the rowlocks, Peggy. Don’t stand up....”

Nancy, kneeling on the floorboards, holding firmly to the middle thwart with one hand, held the lantern above her head with the other. Captain Flint had begun by jerking the oars loose and then, seeing how close the ship was, he grabbed the painter and began coiling it, coil after coil, making ready to throw.

“She’s seen us,” he said.

A voice shouted out something in an unknown language. Lanterns were moving on the deck of the strange ship. A splash from her bow wave came aboard.

“Heave to and give us a lee,” yelled Captain Flint.

The black wall of the ship’s side towered above the Amazon. Then as the little boat lifted on a sea, they caught a glimpse of the deck, a path of light from a cabin door, a faint shifting glow on a dark sail, the black knobs of heads looking over bulwarks with the light dim behind them.

“Stand by for a rope there,” Captain Flint roared. They saw his right arm with the coil of rope swing back and then shoot forward again. They heard a shout from above them. There was a violent jerk.

“Crazy lunatics,” yelled Captain Flint. “You’ll have us stove in.”

There was a crunch as the little boat swung in against the larger vessel which, though she had checked her way, was still slowly forging ahead. The next moment Nancy’s lantern was knocked from her hand as someone landed heavily aboard. She found herself lifted, grabbed from above and somehow on all fours on the deck of the ship. In the dim light of lanterns she saw half-naked figures at the rail. “Hey ... la.” There was a shout and Peggy was dumped beside her. She heard Captain Flint shouting to people to take care. The next moment he too came almost flying over the rail. He scrambled to his feet.... “Look out, you....” He could not get near the rail. There was a shout from below. A dozen men started yelling all together, “Hey ... la.... Hey ... la....”

“Look out,” shrieked Nancy. “You’ll smash her.”

Amazon was coming over the rail, tipping sideways and emptying oars, mast, sail, ration box and everything else that was in her down on the deck.

“Yi!” Somebody squealed as something heavy came down on a bare foot.

“Where’s your skipper?” said Captain Flint. “There’s another boat close by.” He took a torch from his pocket and began flashing it in hopes of an answering signal from John.

A moment later the torch was snatched from his hand.

“Who’s the skipper here?” he asked angrily.

“Swallow, ahoy!” shouted Nancy.

“Swallow, ahoy!” shouted Peggy.

“AHOY!” roared Captain Flint.

There was a terrific hubbub of other people all shouting at the same time, clearing the tangle of Amazon’s gear. It was instantly stilled by an order from somewhere aft.

“Gosh!” exclaimed Captain Flint. “The scoundrels are going to sail on. Hey! I tell you there’s another boat.... Another boat.... Where’s your skipper? ... Doesn’t any of you talk English?”

“Talkee English bimeby.” A voice sounded almost at his elbow, and then gave another order. A voice answered out of the darkness aft. Men ran to obey. Somewhere forrard there was the flap of a sail filling suddenly with wind.

Captain Flint, roaring, rushed aft. “Heave to, I say.... There’s another boat!”

There was a crash. Then a rush of bare feet, a scramble, curses, a thud. Half a dozen men bumped something along the deck. In the light of a lantern Nancy and Peggy saw that the something was Captain Flint. Men had him by the feet and by the shoulders. They hove him up and swayed towards the bulwarks.

“NO!” shouted Nancy.

Another moment and Captain Flint would have been thrown overboard. But Nancy’s “NO!” a single, violent, determined word, shouted close beside them, startled the men. That moment saved him. A quiet voice, the same that had been giving orders, spoke again. There was a moment’s grumbling, and the men, hauling Captain Flint with them, disappeared through an open door under the foredeck. The ship was sailing. The deck was dark once more.

“They’ve killed him,” said Peggy.

Nancy grabbed Peggy’s hand and hurried her along, feeling through the dark towards the place from which the orders had come. She crashed into something, almost fell, tripped over a rope, saved herself and stumbled on.

She was stopped by hearing the voice immediately in front of her.

“Talkee English bimeby.”

“You’ve killed him,” she stormed. “And what about the Swallow? There’s another boat.”

“Not dead.... Him mad,” said the voice.

“There’s another boat,” cried Nancy. “You must pick her up. We can’t go on without them....” She stamped her foot.

The voice spoke again, not in English. Hands seized them both by the wrists, and, stumbling in the dark, they were run forward along the deck. A door was opened. They were pushed into a small cabin lit by a lantern hanging from a beam. The door was closed behind them. They were alone.

Round three walls of the cabin there was a low bench, with a wide shelf three or four feet above it. People could have slept on the bench or on the shelf. In one corner lay a bundle of rugs. Peggy went to look, turned back, and sat down as far from them as possible.

“NO!”

“Nancy,” she said. “I ... I’m going to be sick.”

“No, you aren’t,” said Nancy hurriedly. “Not in here.” She tried the door and found it fast. “No,” she said, “you jolly well aren’t.... Nothing to be sick about.... Ow, I did fetch myself a crack....” She limped across the cabin and sat down by Peggy.

“Captain Flint’s dead,” said Peggy.

“Of course he isn’t,” said Nancy.

“And what about the Swallow?” said Peggy.

“Not prisoners, anyhow,” said Nancy. “And we are. Do you know what that thing was I bumped into on deck?”

“No.”

“Cannon,” said Nancy. “At least I’m almost sure.... What’s that tapping?”

“Somebody hammering.”

“Shut up....” Nancy listened. Outside there was the noise of the wind, the crashing of sea, the creaking of the masts. This noise was nearer ... tapping, somewhere inside the ship ... below ... Tap ... Tap ... and then again Tap ... Tap ... Tap....

“Just a rope,” said Peggy.

“It’s under our feet,” said Nancy. “Wait.... Listen.... Long and two short.... Long and two shorts.... It’s Uncle Jim.... It’s the calling-up signal. Who says he’s dead?” She knelt on the floor and began tapping with her knuckles. Short, two longs.... Short, two longs.... The other tapping stopped, and then began again.

Peggy, forgetting that she had felt sick, flung herself on the floor beside Nancy. The tapping was certainly coming from somewhere below them, but a little further forward in the ship. Slowly a question came through. Nancy tapped an answer.

“What did he say?” asked Peggy. “He’s going too fast for me.”

“He’s all right,” whispered Nancy. “I’ve told him we’re all right too.... Shut up.... What’s that? He’s off again. ‘Keep ... your heads ... sorry ... I ... lost ... mine. ... Good thing really they didn’t get the others.... They will be picked up by a decent ship.... Bad luck our meeting fishermen....’ ” Nancy banged the floor and violently tapped a message back. “I’m telling him about the cannon,” she translated to Peggy.

She paused and listened.

There was a short reply.

“He says, ‘Bunk.’ ... But it couldn’t have been anything else.”

There was more tapping from below, this time a long message.

“Let ... them ... take ... us ... into ... port. ... Then ... we ... get hold ... of somebody ... telegraph ... warn ... all shipping ... look out ... for ... them .... I ... know ... exact ... position.... Probably ... these ... chaps ... hurry ... to ... get ... home.”

Nancy tapped again. “I ... can ... not ... smell ... any ... fish....”

“May be trader,” the answer came back.

Nancy began again, banging on the floor. “If I don’t look out I’ll be taking all the skin off my knuckles.” She banged away with her left hand instead of her right and, in the middle of a message, stopped short. Neither she nor Peggy had heard the door open, but, under the light of the lantern, a Chinese with a cartridge-belt and pistol-holster slung over his short jacket, and a black skull-cap on his head, was standing looking down at them.

They scrambled to their feet.

The Chinese bowed, waved them towards the bench on one side of the cabin and himself sat down facing them.

“Captain,” he said, bowing.

For once Nancy did not know what to say. How long had he been there? Did he know they had been talking with Captain Flint?

The door opened and another Chinese came in, carrying a short bamboo pipe which he handed to the seated captain. The captain put it to his lips. The other Chinese lit it for him and went out. The captain pulled at his pipe and blew out a little smoke.

“How come?” he said at last, showing with a wave of his pipe that he meant, “What had they been doing to be out at sea in a small boat?”

Nancy eagerly explained. She began talking very fast, telling of the voyage, of the burning of the Wild Cat, of the two little boats, of their hopes to be picked up ... but, as she talked, watching the expressionless face of the Chinese, her words came more and more slowly, more and more loudly, more and more clearly.... She repeated a sentence.... She hesitated for a word.... She stopped.

“Talkee English bimeby,” said the Chinese.

“He doesn’t understand,” said Peggy.

“I know that,” said Nancy desperately.

“Try pictures,” said Peggy, and rummaging in a pocket brought out the stump of a pencil.

Nancy took it and looked for something on which to draw. The Chinese watched her. He smiled. He clapped his hands. The door opened. The captain spoke in Chinese. A minute later a man came in with a thin board of white wood, which, at a sign from the captain, he gave to Nancy. Nancy, putting the board on the bench beside her, drew the schooner, Wild Cat, as she had so often drawn her on letters for home. Then she drew the schooner again with flames licking up the masts. Then, with tears in her eyes, she drew the stern of the Wild Cat just before it went under, and the two small boats, with the crew watching the end of their ship. Then she drew the two little boats alone at sea.... Then she drew one boat all by itself. She took the board to the captain and, with her pencil, pointed to the pictures one by one.

The captain seemed to understand. When, last of all, she pointed to the picture of the Swallow, left alone, he looked aft and pointed with his pipe as if he could see through the cabin wall and the dark to the little boat tossing far astern.

“Yes, yes,” cried Nancy, and showed that she wanted him to turn back and go and search for the others, but he held out his hands in a gesture that could not be mistaken. There was to be no going back. Nancy started talking again. He waited until she gave up.

Then he pointed as if through the floor of the cabin.

“Him mad,” he said.

“But he isn’t,” cried Nancy.

“Him mad,” he said again and then, pointing at Nancy and Peggy, he said, “Plisoners.... Talkee English, bimeby....” He stood up, bowed and went out of the cabin into the darkness.

“Pirates,” said Nancy. “I told you so.”

“It’ll be all right if he’s taking us to someone who talks English,” said Peggy.

The door opened for a moment and a Chinese came in with the bundle of sleeping-bags from Amazon. He went out.

Nancy tried the door. It was again fastened from outside. She started banging on the floor again to tell Captain Flint what had happened. She got no answer.

“He’s gone to sleep,” she said. “We’d better do the same. We can’t do anything else.”

“What time is it?” asked Peggy.

“Middle of the night I should think,” said Nancy. “Go on, Peg. You get all the sleep you can. I’m taking this corner.... Gosh, I do hope those others are all right.... But, I say, they’ll be pretty sick at being picked up by a liner when they hear what’s happened to us. I knew at once. I was dead sure that was a cannon....”