Black Bar

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

  DESPERATE MEASURES.

  "Powder? An explosion?"

  "Yes, sir; blow the whole thing out just when they didn't expect it."

  "The powder?" cried Mark, excitedly. "Yes, of course. Why, Tom, I_never_ thought of that. We will in the morning, when they are not sostrictly on the watch."

  He looked excitedly at Tom Fillot for a few moments, and then hiscountenance changed.

  "No," he said; "it is impossible."

  "Not it, sir. Lay the powder snug again the door, make a train, fireit, get out of the way. Then _bang_ it goes; smash tumbles the door andhatch and all the rest of it, and then out we rushes, knocks 'em overone at a time, and the schooner's ours."

  "Man, man, can't you see that if we did that we should blow ourselves upas well?"

  "No, we wouldn't sir, because we'd lie down."

  "Well, what difference would that make?"

  "All on it, sir. Powder flies up, and it wouldn't hurt us."

  "Think not?"

  "Sure on it, sir."

  "Tom, I'm not sure; but dare we risk--"

  "O' course, sir."

  Mark sat thinking for a few moments.

  "We might try it with a little."

  "It must be a big dose or none at all, sir."

  "Yes, and we must risk it," said Mark. "Now, then, it must be donequietly, for depend upon it that scoundrel is watching us."

  "Then I tell you what," said Tom, "as now it's dark he can see us, andwe can't see him, I say, sir, let's all have a nap, and directly afterthe sun's up get ready."

  "That's good advice, Tom. We can sleep in peace with the way of escapeopen to us--that is, _if_ we can."

  "T'others can, sir," said Tom; "they're all sound enough."

  Mark glanced at their companions, who had been unheeded during theirearnest conversation, and could see that his lieutenant's words werecorrect.

  "Let's lie down, then;" and, setting the example, his mind was soutterly weary, and yet so much at peace, that he was soundly asleep inless than five minutes, Tom Fillot in two.

  Meanwhile on deck, after a bit of a consultation, the American skipperhad determined to get rid of his dangerous prisoners; and to this end hehad had the worst boat slightly provisioned with biscuit and water, andshe hung at the davits, ready for the midshipman and his followers to behad up one by one, soon after daylight, and disarmed and bundled intothe boat to make for the shore.

  "We'll get too far out for 'em to nab us again," the skipper said, as heglanced shoreward through his night-glass, where the coast lay someseven or eight miles away.

  In profound ignorance of all this, Mark slept on till he was awakened byTom Fillot, and started up, staring and wondering, till he recalled thatwhich was before him.

  Then he felt a chill of dread, for it would be a terrible thing to do--that firing off a sufficient charge of powder to blow out the door andyet leave the occupants of the cabin uninjured.

  Tom Fillot had no such dread, and after trying to make out whether theywere watched, he quietly thrust an arm beneath the lid of the locker anddrew out a tin of powder, which he carried across, and placed with theneck opened and on its side, so that a little of the contents ran outclose by the cabin entrance.

  This he did three more times, laying the tins neck to neck, each open,and helping to make a little hill of black grains, while his comradeslooked gloomily on. Then, fetching a fifth, he opened it, and laid azigzag train completely along the cabin floor right to beneath thewindow, and returned carefully to empty the remainder on the little heapand about the necks of the other tins.

  Five pounds of gunpowder! Plenty to bring destruction upon all withinthe cabin, as well as knock out the door and hatch beyond.

  "There we are, sir," said Tom Fillot, seeking for a box of matches andcoolly taking one out. "Now we'll all lie down together when you thinkit's a good time, and keep our heads close to the floor. The blaze'llgo right over us, and you understand, lads, as soon as the blow upcomes, we shall all rush out, take 'em by surprise, and capter theschooner. That's right, sir, ain't it?"

  "Yes, that's right, Tom. Be ready, my lads."

  "Ay, ay, sir," said the men, coolly; and the black grasped a cutlass aswell, looking prepared for anything.

  "It'll be sharp work, my lads, but we must win."

  "And we will," said Tom, grimly. "Think I can do better with thepowder, sir?"

  "No; that will be excellent for the purpose," said Mark. "Now give methe box and lie down."

  "Give you--the box o' matches, sir?" stammered Tom Fillot.

  "Yes. I shall fire the train."

  Tom handed over the box unwillingly.

  "Hadn't I better, sir? You might be burnt."

  "Well, if I am, what then? Ready, my lads?" whispered Mark. "All isquiet now."

  "Ay, ay, sir, ready," said the men, as they pressed closely to thefloor, holding down their heads for the most part; but Tom Fillot with aface full of anxiety watched.

  "Then the moment after the explosion spring up and follow me."

  As Mark spoke he lay down close to the end of the train right beneaththe open window, took a match from the box, struck it, and, as it burstinto flame, touched the powder, which began to burn along the zigzagtrain with a peculiar rushing hiss.