The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “It is a great advantage, the path being so easy,” Francis said, “for in case they did discover the ship we could land and climb to the top before they had time to come to shore, and once there we could keep the whole force in those galleys at bay. Now for the main point, the depth of the water.”

  Matteo shook his head.

  “It is useless to take the trouble to undress, Francis,” he said, as the latter threw off his jacket. “Giuseppi can wade out to the rocks without wetting his knees.”

  “Giuseppi can try if he likes,” Francis said, “but I will wager he will not get far.”

  Giuseppi, as convinced as Matteo of the shallowness of the water, stepped into it, but was surprised to find that, before he had gone many paces, the water was up to his waist.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it,” Matteo said when he returned, “but I think he must have got into a deep hole among the rocks. However, we shall soon see,” and he too began to undress.

  In a few minutes the three lads were swimming out towards the rocks which, as Francis had anticipated, rose from twenty to thirty feet above the level of the sea. The water deepened fast, and for the last thirty or forty yards, they were unable to touch the bottom, even when thrusting down their rods to the fullest depth. They then tried the depth in the passages at the end of the rocks, and found that there was ample water for the Lido. When they ascertained this to their satisfaction they swam back to the shore.

  “I shall believe you in future, Francis, even if you assert that the moon is made of cheese. I could have taken an oath that there was not a foot of water between those rocks and the shore.”

  “I hardly ventured to hope that it was as deep as it is,” Francis said, “but I know how deceiving clear water is, when you look down upon it from a height. However, that point is settled.”

  “But they would see our masts above the rocks, Francisco. They are sure to keep a sharp lookout as they go along.”

  “We must take the masts out of her,” Francis said. “I don’t know how it is to be done, but the captain will know, and if that can’t be managed we must cut them down. There is no difficulty about that.

  “Now we will make our way back again, it will be dark in a couple of hours’ time. Everything depends upon whether they have towed the Lido out and anchored her among their galleys. If they have, I fear the scheme is impracticable, but if they let her remain where she is lying, we might get her out without being noticed, for there is no moon.”

  As they began to ascend the cliff, Francis stopped suddenly.

  “We should never be able to find this place in the dark,” he said.

  “Giuseppi, you must stay here. Do you collect a quantity of dried sticks, and lay them in readiness at that point opposite the ledge. We will show a light as we come along, that is if we succeed in getting the Lido out, and directly you see it set fire to the sticks. The fire will be a guide to us as to the position of the rocks.”

  “Perhaps I had better take the sticks off to the ledge, Messer Francisco, and light my fire on the rock at the end. The water is deep a few yards out, as we found, so you could sail close to the fire and then round behind the rocks without danger.”

  “That will be the best way, Giuseppi; but how will you get the sticks off without wetting them?”

  “I will make a bundle three or four times as big as I want,” Giuseppi said, “and then half of them will be dry. I can put my clothes on them and the tinder. I will answer for the fire, but I would rather have been with you in your adventure.”

  “There will be no danger there, Giuseppi, so you need not be anxious about us. It has to be done quietly and secretly, and there will be no fighting. These Genoese are too strong to think of that; and if we are discovered in the attempt, or as we make off, we shall take to our boats again and row straight on shore.

  “Keep a sharp lookout for us, we will hoist two lights, one above the other, to prevent your mistaking any fishing boat which may be coming along for us.

  “Now, Matteo, for a climb. We have no time to lose.”

  The two lads climbed to the top of the cliff, and then started at a brisk pace along the top, and in half an hour reached the wood.

  “We were beginning to wonder what had become of you,” the captain said as they joined him.

  “We have been settling how to carry off the Lido,” Francis said, “and have arranged everything.”

  The captain laughed.

  “If we could fly with her through the air, you might get her away, but I see no other way. I have been thinking it over since you left. With luck we might get her safely out of the bay, but the galleys row four feet to our one, and as they would be sure to send some one way, and some the other, along the coast; they would pick us up again in two or three hours after daylight.”

  “Nevertheless we have settled it, captain. We have found a place where we can hide her, and the Genoese might search the coast for a month without finding her.”

  “If that be so it is possible,” the captain said eagerly, “and you may be sure you will not find us backward in doing our best.”

  Francis described the nature and position of the rock which would afford a shelter, and the means by which they had ascertained that there was plenty of water for the Lido behind it.

  “It seems plausible,” the captain said when he had concluded, “and I am quite ready to make the attempt, if, in your opinion, it can be done. You are Messer Polani’s representative, and for my own sake as well as his, I would do anything which promises a chance of recapturing the ship. Besides, as you say, there is little danger in it, for we can take to the boats and make for the shore if discovered.

  “The Lido is still lying where we anchored her. They can have no fear of a recapture, for they would know that they could overtake us easily enough. I daresay they intend to sail tomorrow morning, and did not think it worth the trouble to get up the anchor and tow her out to where they are lying.”

  The details of the expedition were now discussed and arranged, and the men told off to their various duties, and at eleven o’clock at night, when all in the town were fast asleep, the party quitted the bivouac and marched down again to the port.

  CHAPTER 10

  Recaptured

  No one was astir in the streets as the band marched through, and they reached the port without encountering a single person. A small boat was chosen, and in this the captain, Francis, Matteo, and two of the strongest and most powerful of the sailors embarked. It was thought unlikely that, lying, as the Lido did, within a couple of hundred yards of the Genoese galleys, any very vigilant watch would be kept, and not more than two sailors would probably be on deck.

  The dark mass of the ship could just be made out from the shore, and when all was ready the two sailors with their oars pushed her off with all their strength, and then stood perfectly quiet.

  The impetus was sufficient. The boat moved so slowly through the water, indeed, before they reached the ship, that Francis thought it would be necessary for the men to row a stroke or two; but the boat still moved on, until at last it touched the side of the ship. All had removed their boots before starting, and they now clambered up the sides without making the slightest noise.

  Once on deck they stood perfectly quiet, listening. Presently they heard a murmur of voices on the other side of the vessel. Very quietly they crept towards the sound, and at length made out two figures leaning over the bulwarks, talking.

  Each man’s work had been settled, and there was no confusion. One of the sailors and Francis stole towards one of the men, while the other and Matteo approached the second. The captain stood with his sword bared, in readiness to cut down any other man who might be on deck.

  The Genoese did not look round. Francis gave the word, “Now,” and in a moment the two sailors seized them from behind with a grasp of iron, while the lads at the same moment passed bandages tightly round their mouths, and before the Genoese were quite aware of what had happene
d, they were lying, bound hand and foot, gagged upon the deck.

  The party now made a search, but found no one else about. They then secured and fastened down the hatch of the forecastle by coiling ropes upon it, quietly opened the door leading to the poop cabins, and entering, seized and bound two officers sleeping there without the slightest noise or resistance.

  Then they took a light from the cabin and showed it towards the shore. At the signal the sailors, who had already taken their places in the boats, at once rowed out to the vessel. When all were on board, the boats were fastened alongside, in case it should be necessary to abandon the ship again.

  The cable was then cut. One of the sailors had already ascended the shrouds, and poured oil over the blocks through which the halyards ran, so that the sails should ascend noiselessly. The wind was very light, scarcely enough to belly out the sails, but it was fortunately in the right direction, and the Lido began to steal through the water.

  Not a word had been spoken since they first started, but Francis now whispered to the captain, “I think I can make out the Genoese ships.”

  “So can I,” the captain said, “but they cannot see us. They are against the skyline, while we are in the shadow of the shore. So far all is perfectly safe, and if this breath of wind will but carry us far enough out to be able to use our oars without their hearing us, we shall certainly get away.”

  The progress of the Lido was so slow, that it was nearly an hour before the captain said that he thought they were now fairly round the point of the bay, and could use their oars.

  “We had better tow,” he said; “the sweeps make a noise that can be heard miles away on a calm night like this, whereas, if they are careful, men in a boat can row almost noiselessly.”

  Ten of the men accordingly took their places in one of the large boats in which they had come on board, and a rope being passed down to them they began rowing at the head of the ship.

  “We may as well lower the sails,” the captain said, “they are doing no good now. Indeed I think it is a current rather than the wind that has helped us so far.”

  “I will put two lanterns over the side,” Francis said. “We may have gone farther than we think, and it would never do to pass our hiding place.”

  The men in the boat rowed vigorously, but it was slow work towing the deeply-laden vessel. At last, however, a light burst suddenly up from the shore.

  “There is Giuseppi,” Francis exclaimed. “We are further out than we thought we were. He must be fully a mile and a half away.”

  The men in the boat were told to row direct for the light, and some of the sweeps were got out and helped the vessel through the water. As they drew near, they could make out Giuseppi throwing fresh wood on the fire.

  “You can steer within ten yards of where he is standing, captain, and directly you are abreast of him, put your helm hard to port. You had better get the sweeps in now, the less way she has on her the better.”

  “All well?” Giuseppi hailed, as they came within fifty yards of it.

  “All well, Giuseppi! There has been no fighting, so you have lost nothing. Put all your wood on the fire, we want as much light as we can to get in.”

  The flames shot up high, and the captain had no difficulty in rounding the corner of the rocks, and bringing up his vessel behind them. A kedge was dropped, and the men in the boat rowed to the end of the rocks, and brought off Giuseppi.

  “I was beginning to be anxious,” the lad said, as he joined them on deck, “and when I first saw your signal I took you for a fishing boat. You were so far off that the two lights looked like one, but by dint of gazing I made them out at last, and then lit the fire.”

  “Now, captain,” Francis said, “we have a good deal to do before morning, for I take it it will be no easy matter to get out the masts.”

  “There would be no difficulty in getting the masts out,” the captain answered. “I have only to knock out the wedges, and loosen the stays, and get up a tripod made of three spars to lift them out; but I don’t see how they are to be got in again.”

  “How is that, captain? I should have thought it no more difficult to get a mast in than to take it out.”

  “Nor would it be so, under ordinary circumstances,” the captain replied; “but you see, our hold is full of grain, and as the mast comes out, the hole it leaves will fill up, and there will be no getting it down again to step it on the keel without discharging the cargo.”

  “Yes, I see that, captain. Then you think we had better cut down the masts; but in that case how are we to raise them?”

  “We will cut them off about six feet above the deck, Messer Francisco; then when we want to set sail again, we have only to rear the masts up by the side of the stumps, and lash them securely. Of course they will be six feet shorter than before, but that is of little consequence.”

  “Then so let it be,” Francis said, “the sooner we begin the better.”

  Just at this moment there was a violent knocking against the hatch of the forecastle.

  “I had forgotten all about the sailors,” the captain said, laughing. “I suppose the men who were to relieve the watch have woke up, and finding they could not get out, have aroused their comrades.”

  “Shall we leave them there, or take them out and bind them?” Matteo asked.

  “We had better have them up,” the captain said. “I don’t suppose there are more than twenty of them, and it would be best to bind them, and put them down in the hold with the corn, otherwise they may manage to break out when we are not expecting it, and might give us some trouble.”

  Accordingly, the sailors gathered round the hatch. The ropes were then removed, and the hatch taken off.

  “What fooling are you up to?” one of the Genoese exclaimed, angrily, as they rushed up on deck. “You have nearly stifled us down below putting on the hatch and fastening it.”

  He stopped abruptly as, on gaining the deck, he saw a crowd of armed figures round him, for a lantern had been placed so as to throw a light upon the spot.

  “You are prisoners,” the captain said. “It is useless to attempt resistance.”

  “Help, help, treachery!” one of the Genoese shouted at the top of his voice.

  “It is useless for you to shout,” the captain said, “you are miles away from your fleet. Now, do you surrender, or are we to attack you?”

  Taken by surprise, and unarmed, the Genoese who had gained the deck sullenly replied that they surrendered. They were bound and led away, and the others ordered to come up on deck. There were found to be four-and-twenty in all, and these were soon laid side by side on the grain in the hold, the hatch being left off to give them air. The masts were then cut through, and were with some trouble lowered to the deck.

  “There is nothing more to be done now,” the captain said, “and I think we can all safely turn in till morning.”

  He then ordered the under officer to place two men on watch on the rocks, and two men on deck, two men to stand as sentinels over the prisoners, and the rest to lie down. He directed that he should be roused at the earliest streak of daylight.

  The lads were soon fast asleep, and could hardly believe that the night was over, when Giuseppi awakened them with the news that day was breaking. They were soon on deck, and found that the crew were already astir. The sentinels on the rock were at once ordered to lie down, so that they could command a view of the sea, without exposing themselves to sight. The boats were drawn up alongside, and everything put in readiness for instant debarkation, and then the party waited for the appearance of the Genoese galleys.

  “They will be along in less than an hour,” the captain said. “It is light enough now for the watch to have discovered that the Lido is missing, and it will not be many minutes before they are under way. They will calculate that we can have but five or six hours’ start at the utmost, and that three hours’ rowing will bring them up to us.”

  “I have no fear whatever of their discovering us as they go along,” Francis s
aid. “The only fear is that, after rowing for three or four hours and seeing no sign of us, they will guess that we are hidden somewhere under the cliffs, and will come back along the shore, searching every bay.”

  “There is a chance of that,” the captain agreed, “but I should think only a chance. When the party who come this way find they do not overtake us, they will suppose that we have sailed to the west, and that on their return they will find us in the hands of their comrades; and when these also come back empty handed they will conclude that we have sailed straight out to sea. Of course they may have sent a galley southward also, but will conclude that that has somehow missed us when it returns without news. I hardly think that the idea, that we may be hidden so close to them, will enter their minds, and the only fear I entertain is that some peasant may happen to come to the edge of the cliff and see us lying here, and may take the news back to Girgenti.”

  “Yes, there is certainly a danger of that,” Francis said. “I think, captain, it would be the best plan to land twenty men at once. Giuseppi will show them the way up the cliff, and then they must take their station, at short distances apart, along the edge of the cliff, from point to point of this little bay, with orders to seize any one who may approach and bring him down here. They must, of course, be told to lie down, as a line of sentries along the top of the cliff might attract the attention of somebody on the galleys, and lead to a search.”

  “Yes, I think that will be a wise precaution,” the captain agreed.

  “Thomaso, do you take twenty men and post them as you hear Messer Francisco say. Tell them to lie in the bushes and keep out of sight, and on no account to show themselves, unless someone comes along sufficiently near to look over the edge of the cliff.”

  “Giuseppi,” Francis said, “do you act as guide to the party. You will have plenty of time to get to the top and to return before the galleys come along.”