Mr. Wicker's Window

by Carley Dawson

  CHAPTER 32

  It was not until Chris, relieved, proud and happy at the success ofhis mission, opened his sea chest and took out the shell that he hadthe faintest vibration of trouble or danger. Until then he had lived,breathed, and thought only of obtaining the Jewel Tree, and once thathad been accomplished, he felt that his anxieties were over.

  However, as he shut and locked the cabin door behind him, feeling withan increased zest the surge and rock of the _Mirabelle_ under his feetas she plunged through the sea, something brought him up short andtook the glow from his face. Slowly, and with a grave expression,Chris went to his sea chest and took the shell from it, but he almostknew before he heard it what Mr. Wicker would say.

  Nevertheless, when through the whorls of the shell at his ear he heardthe familiar voice, so far away and so long unheard, his eyes lit upagain.

  "You have done better than my fondest hopes, Christopher, my boy,"came Mr. Wicker's voice. "I cannot commend you enough for the successof your difficult journey, and the manner in which with courage, quickwit, and fortitude you met every danger. Amos is much to be praisedtoo. He is a loyal friend and I am proud of him as well as of you."

  Chris, kneeling by the brass-studded chest with the shell held to hisear, could easily bring before his inner eye the cosy room inGeorgetown, the crackling logs upon the hearth, and the voice of BeckyBoozer raised in lusty song coming from the direction of the kitchen.

  He missed it. Much as he loved the _Mirabelle_, and much as he prizedthe friendship of all aboard her, still, Mr. Wicker and Becky held anespecial place in his heart and he longed all at once, with almostintolerable sharpness, to be at home once more. That his mother wasgetting better he had never doubted, but kneeling there alone, hesuddenly wanted to have done with adventure for a while.

  "My boy--are you listening?" came Mr. Wicker's words, and Chris'sthoughts brought him back with a jolt to the cabin of a ship sailingthe China seas. "Christopher, my poor lad," Mr. Wicker said at hisear, "had you forgotten the _Vulture_?

  "No," he answered for the boy, "not altogether, but perhaps just alittle. Yet make no mistake--the Captain of the _Vulture_ has notforgotten _you_. Nor is he under any misapprehension as to who it waswho so skillfully crippled his ship so that he did not reach Pekingbefore you."

  Mr. Wicker's voice took on the edge it always held when he spoke ofClaggett Chew.

  "Claggett Chew waits for you beyond Shanghai in the East China Sea. Bewary, and be rested, Christopher, for you will have a battle such asyou have never dreamed of, and even I cannot tell how it will end. Itwill depend on your quickness and ingenuity. And do not forget theleather pouch!"

  The voice of his friend hesitated, and then said so faintly and fromso far that it was all Chris could do to hear it: "I repeat, be wary,Christopher. He will do everything in his power--"

  The voice faded away, and Chris with heavy gestures replaced theshell, shut the lid of his sea chest, and unlocking the door, wentwith dragging feet to tell Captain Blizzard of what awaited them.

  The wind was only moderately fair so that the _Mirabelle_ took sometime passing beyond the Yellow Sea. During those days Chris practisedhis magic with more concentration than ever before. He rested andslept, ate hugely, and exercised by climbing up the masts of the_Mirabelle_, so that by the time a long dark line was sighted ontheir starboard side on the Chinese coast and the approach toShanghai, Chris was fit and well as he had never been before.

  Warned by Chris in time, Captain Blizzard, on hearing of the dangersahead, had determined to put into port at Shanghai, and there, withmuch haggling and bargaining, bought four cannons and ammunition. Healso laid in a store of swords, daggers, and assorted weapons for allon board.

  Believing that an ounce of prevention was better than a pound of cure,the worthy captain drilled all hands on the _Mirabelle_ twice a daythereafter. This, the weather being fair and the ship needing only thehelmsman and a lookout to care for her, the sailors were quite willingto do. More especially when their captain, in whom they had unboundedfaith, told them he had good reason to believe they would have anasty, and perhaps disastrous, encounter with the pirate ship duringwhich they bid fair to be bested if they did not bestir themselves andprepare for it.

  The men entered into the training with gusto. They made dummies whichwere hung on ropes and maneuvered by their friends, braced in therigging. The dummies were suddenly swung out and down in everydirection, in imitation of pirates boarding the ship, and were fallenupon by the sailors of the _Mirabelle_ with roars of glee as if theywere at that very moment being tackled by the pirate crew. Then theypractised fast turning and tacking of the ship, and even in betweenthe regular hours set aside by the Captain for what he termed"fighting time," several groups of men could always be seen on somepart of the deck practising dueling with sword and dagger. In short,long before the _Mirabelle_ reached the East China Sea, its crew hadbecome proficient in all manner of hand-to-hand fighting.

  The _Mirabelle_ was level with the Ryukyu Islands on a gusty, glaryday when the lookout's long-drawn-out cry floated down from thecrow's-nest to those sailors who were engaged in a mock fight on deck.

  "Sail--ho-oo!"

  Instantly every man was at the ship's side, shading his eyes againstthe dazzle that made a brassy light over sea and sky. The RyukyuIslands, off the port beam, were not visible in the metallic haze thatgrew as the sun arched higher. The fitful wind gave promise ofstopping altogether and leaving both ships becalmed.

  Chris, on the bridge beside the Captain, stood looking through hisspyglass at the advancing sail. Captain Blizzard lowered his own glassto turn enquiringly to Chris.

  "Yes," the boy said at last, "I'm sure now. I ought to know thosesails. They're unmistakable. That is the _Vulture_, sir."

  Captain Blizzard wheeled about before the last word had left Chris'slips, and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

  "All hands on deck!" he roared. "Man the guns! Bring out theammunition, and every man to his place!"

  The training the men had gone through instantly asserted itself.Although there was a great deal of running about, up and down theladder to the hold, and of handing up the heavy ammunition, all wasorderly, and not an extra word was spoken.

  There was little enough time left over, however. The _Vulture_approached rapidly and then crossed the bow of the _Mirabelle_ sonarrowly that the _Mirabelle_ had to put hard about and CaptainBlizzard roared orders to take in sail in order not to smash into thepirate vessel before it had been carried by the breeze beyond itsprey.

  This maneuver by Claggett Chew momentarily threw the _Mirabelle's_crew into confusion and turned their attention to the hasty managementof their ship. To Chris, working with the men at whatever was mosturgent, it seemed only an instant before the _Vulture_ was againalongside the _Mirabelle_, and Claggett Chew stood on the gunwalehailing them.

  "Heave-to, or you shall sink to the sharks!" he cried.

  "Look to yourself, pirate!" Captain Blizzard thundered in reply, andgiving the signal, the unsuspected guns of the _Mirabelle_ belched outtheir deadly charges.

  Claggett Chew was knocked back to the deck of his ship, and Chris hadtime to see him shake off the hand of a sailor who would have helpedhim to safety. Chris also saw, peeking out from the doorway ofClaggett Chew's cabin, the white horrified face of Osterbridge Hawsey,who "could not _stand_ the sight of blood--so _common_!" The facewithdrew, and Chris could imagine the dandy playing cards or readingas best he could in the din until the battle should be over.

  The pirates, many wounded and all taken aback at the unforeseenpresence of guns on board the _Mirabelle_, were tough fightersnotwithstanding, and moved the _Vulture_ in ever nearer until the twoships, with fallen masts and entangled rigging, were locked on thebrazen sea in deathly struggle.

  Brave as the seamen of the _Mirabelle_ proved themselves to be, thepirates were seasoned in pitiless combat. The guns of both shipsroared and coughed and the battle raged through the noon into theafternoon. Finally, Chris could
bear no more. The crew of his shipwere weakening, even as were those of the _Vulture_, and shudderingthough he was at the thought of the sharks in the sea, Chris knew hehad to use every method in his power if any on board were to survive.

  Keeping his own form he jumped into the blood-tinged water, his magicknife open and ready in his hand.