The Battery and the Boiler - Robert Michael Ballantyne (an ebook reader .txt) 📗

that moment cousin Sam Shipton entered with an eager, excited look.

"It's all settled," he said, taking Robin by the hand.

"What is settled?" asked Mrs Wright, somewhat anxiously.

"Mother, don't be angry," said Robin, laying his hand on his mother's shoulder, and speaking tenderly, "I meant to have told you the moment I came in to-day, but uncle Rik with his argumentative spirit drove it and everything else except cables out of my head--"

"Well, but what is it?" interrupted Madge impatiently; "why do you keep us in suspense?"

"I have some prospect, mother, of being appointed to go with a telegraph-laying party to the East, but Sam is wrong when he says it is all settled. Whatever he may have to tell us, it is by no means settled until I have your and father's opinion."

"Well, you horribly good but ungrateful boy," returned Sam, "it is at least settled as far as I have do with it. I have made application at head-quarters, and they are willing to take you on my recommendation. Moreover, I am myself going."

"You're joking, Sam!" exclaimed Robin, with a flush of joy; "I thought you had neither intention nor desire to go far from home."

"You thought wrong, Robin. I always had desire, and now have intention--and I go as second in command. So, Miss Mayland," he continued, turning to Madge, "I shan't be able to continue those electrical lectures which you were so fond of once, but have lately seemed to grow tired of."

Madge was at that tender age of budding womanhood when sensitive girls are apt to misunderstand a jest. She blushed, stammered something, then forced a laugh, and turned to speak to Robin; but Sam perceived that tears rose to her eyes, and he instantly sank in his own estimation to the condition of a loathsome reptile.

"Well, now, that is good news," cried Robin, applying himself to the viands on the table with renewed zest. "You cannot have the smallest objection or anxiety, mother, I should think, when you know I shall be under so able a guide."

"I have not yet thought it over, Robin."

"And you, father?"

"Go, my boy, and my blessing go with you," said Mr Wright, all but choking the blessing with a huge oyster.

"Are any labourers to go with us?" asked Robin.

"One or two picked ones."

"Then you must allow me to pick one, Sam. My friend Jim Slagg is at present cast adrift with a considerable part of the Great Eastern's crew. He will be delighted to go, I know, and is a first-rate, hard-working, willing, conscientious youth."

"He ought to be proud of having so warm a friend and advocate," said Sam, "but I have no power to choose the men."

"O yes, you have, Sam. If you could get me appointed, you can get him appointed; and you must, for, if you don't, I won't go."

"You are hard on me, Robin, but I'll try."

"But you have not yet told us where it is that they are going to send you," said Mrs Wright.

"Ah! that's not fixed," replied Sam; "they are laying down lines in Turkey; and Egypt is talked of, and telegraph to India itself is even hinted at. All I know is that we shall be sent to the East somewhere."

"Bah! boo! Why does nobody ask for _my_ opinion on the matter?" said uncle Rik, as he gazed at the company over a goose drumstick, which was obviously not tender.

"Your opinion, brother," said Mr Wright, "is so valuable, that no doubt your nephew has been keeping it to the last as a sort of tit-bit--eh, Robin?"

"Well, uncle; come, let us have it," said Robin.

"You don't deserve it," returned Rik, with a wrench at the drumstick, "but you shall have it all the same, free, gratis. Was this bird fed on gutta-percha shavings, sister Nan?"

"Perhaps--or on violin strings, I'm not sure which," replied Mrs Wright blandly.

"Well," continued the captain, "you youngsters will go off, I see, right or wrong, and you'll get half-drowned in the sea, roasted in the East, smothered in the desert, eaten alive by cannibals, used-up by the plague, poisoned by serpents, and tee-totally ruined altogether. Then you'll come home with the skin of your teeth on--nothing more."

"I sincerely hope it will be summer at the time," said Sam, laughing; "but we are grateful to you for prophesying that we shall return, even though in such light clothing."

"That's what'll happen," continued the captain, regarding the other drumstick with some hesitation; "you may take the word of an old salt for it. I've lived in the good old times, lads, and I know that all these new-fangled notions are goin' to burst up--and _that's_ what'll come of it."

Whether that was what came of it remains to be seen.


CHAPTER TWELVE.


A GREAT DYNAMO-ELECTRIC SEA-FIGHT.

A few weeks after the utterance of Captain Rik's famous prophecy, Robin, Sam, Stumps, and Slagg found themselves on board of a large submarine cable steam-ship, named the Triton, ploughing the billows of the Southern Ocean.

A few weeks later and they were drawing near to that great concourse of islands known as the Malay Archipelago, where nature is exceptionally beautiful, but man is rather vile. At all events, that region of the ocean lying to the south of China has been long infamous for the number and ferocity of its pirates, who, among the numerous islands, with their various channels, creeks, and rivers, have found a suitable field for their bloody and remorseless game.

"D'you know, I don't believe in pirates?" said Robin to Sam, as they stood at the bow of the cable-ship, conversing about these sea-robbers.

"They believe in _you_ nevertheless, as you'd find out to your cost if we came across one just now."

The voice that replied was not Sam's, but that of the captain, who had come forward to get a clearer sweep of the horizon ahead with his glass.

"Do you think it likely, sir, that we may meet with any of the rascals?" asked Sam.

"Not at all unlikely," replied the captain, fixing his glass and putting it to his eye, "though I don't think it likely that we shall be attacked, as we are large and don't look like a richly freighted merchant-man. However, there is no saying. These scoundrels fear nothing, and when hard up will attack anything but a man-of-war, I half suspect that I am looking at one of them now."

This latter announcement, calmly uttered, threw all who heard it into quite a flutter of excitement.

The captain was a big, dark-skinned, bearded man, with a quiet, half-humorous, half-sarcastic expression of countenance.

"Do you really think it is a pirate?" asked Robin, eagerly.

"I really do," replied the captain, "and I fear we may have to run out of our course to avoid her. You see, I am a man of peace, and abhor bloodshed, therefore I won't fight if I can help it."

Saying this he gave orders to have the course of the steamer changed.

Just then there occurred one of those _contretemps_ which don't often happen, but which, when they do, are often prolific of disaster; an important part of the machinery broke down, and the engine, for the moment, was rendered useless. It was most unfortunate, for the suspicious craft lay to windward, and a light breeze was blowing carried it steadily towards them, although all the sail the steamer possessed was crowded on her.

"Come aft here, Mr Shipton, and tell your chief to come with you. I want to hold a council of war," said the captain.

Summoning the first mate and chief engineer, as well as the electricians, the captain went to the after part of the quarter-deck, where, seated on the taffrail, he deliberated with the extemporised council measures for repelling an expected attack.

What these deliberations tended to, those not of the council could not tell, but from the energy of the members, and an occasional burst of laughter from the group, it was obvious, as Jim Slagg remarked, that "mischief o' some sort was in the wind."

Presently the council broke up, and the members went actively below, as men do who have a purpose to carry out promptly.

Meanwhile the pirate vessel came within range and fired a shot which missed them. The fire was not repeated. Evidently they meant to get within easy range before trying another shot.

In a few minutes the electricians came on deck with several large coils of copper wire, which they uncoiled and distributed mysteriously about the sides of the vessel. At the same time several lengths of leathern pump hose were laid along the deck, and fire-branches or nozzles attached to them.

"Run out our stern-guns now," said the captain, with a grim smile, "and give it 'em hot. It won't do to seem to give in too easy. Run up the Union Jack. Don't take aim. I want more noise and smoke than mischief--d'ye understand?"

The officer to whom this was addressed, said, "Ay, ay, sir," in the usual tone of ready obedience, adding, however, in an undertoned growl, "but I _don't_ understand, for all that!"

He obeyed the orders literally, being well disciplined, and the result was a sudden and most furious cannonade, for the pirate replied with vigour, using all the guns he could bring to bear; but no damage was done on either side for some time, until at last a ball from the enemy went crash through the smoke funnel of the Triton with a most sonorous bang!

"That'll do now," cried the captain, "cease firing and haul down the colours."

If the captain had said, "Cut away the rudder and heave the boilers overboard," he could scarcely have caused more surprise in his crew, who, by his orders, had assembled on deck, every man being armed with musket, cutlass, and revolver. His orders were strictly and promptly obeyed, however.

By this time the light breeze had fallen and a dead calm prevailed, so that the sails of the pirate flapped idly against her masts, and her crew were seen busily lowering her boats.

"We could have soon got out of her way if our engines had not broke down," growled the captain, as he went toward the front of the quarter-deck and looked down on the armed men in the waist. "My lads," he said, "the blackguards are Malay pirates. They are lowering their boats, and will be alongside in less than half an hour. I don't need to tell you what you'll have to expect if they take us. We must beat 'em off or _die_; for it's better to die sword in hand than to be tortured or strangled. Those of you, however, who prefer the latter modes of going under may show the white feather and enjoy yourselves in your own way. Now, lads, you know me. I expect obedience to orders to the letter. I hate fighting and bloodshed--so don't kill unless you can't help it. Also, take care that you don't touch these copper wires on the sides with either finger or foot. If you do you'll repent it, for electricians don't like their gear handled."

Turning abruptly round, for the oars of the approaching