"A nightmare! What in h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"Weel, I must ha' walked in ma sleep. I thocht ma second--or mebbe 'twas ma thaird--wife was after me...."

McPhulach rambled on till Calamity, losing patience, pulled him up and demanded to know the truth. It came out gradually, and the Captain learnt that, just as the boats were putting off from the _Hawk_, McPhulach had been seized with an irresistible desire to feel dry land under him again. So, un.o.bserved in the darkness, he had slipped into the last boat and been taken ash.o.r.e. There he mingled with the men and advanced with them in the first attack. During the fight which followed, he succeeded in scaling the stockade and had just landed safely on the other side when a soldier sprang forward and clubbed him with the b.u.t.t-end of a rifle. For a time he lay there unconscious, but, on coming to, quickly realised that he was inside the stockade and might be killed at any moment. As this latter contingency did not figure on his programme, he started to crawl away and at last came to an orderly-room which was untenanted. Taking careful observations, he noticed on the table several bottles of spirits, and drew the conclusion that the place was a sort of smoking-room used by the officers of the fort; at any rate, he decided to sample the contents of the bottles.

By the time he had finished what must have been nearly two pints of mixed spirits, he felt equal to taking the fort single-handed; in fact, as he now confessed to Calamity, he would have charged a whole battalion.

"I didna quite ken what to do," he said, gazing dreamily out of the porthole, "so I sat doon on the doorstep an' waited for ma temper to rise."

Apparently it rose pretty quickly, for soon afterwards he wandered out into the dark enclosure--having first placed the remains of a bottle of gin in his pocket--to see what he could do. As a start, he drew his revolver and one of the first shots, fired at random, hit a charge of powder as it was being removed from the magazine.

"An' after that," concluded the engineer wearily, "I kenned no mair."

"I see," murmured Calamity, for now the mysterious explosion which had resulted in the capture of the fort was explained. "I suppose," he added, with unwonted geniality, "you don't remember trying to kill pink snakes with an empty gin-bottle?"

McPhulach slowly shook his head.

"I ca' to mind seein' a green spider an' a blue centipede creepin'

across yon bulkhead a whiles since," he replied. "But ye meet wi' unco'

quare animals in these lat.i.tudes."

Calamity rose to his feet.

"I've a good mind to log you a week's pay for disobeying orders," he said.

The threat did not seem to impress the engineer, who suddenly leant over the side of his bunk and stared fixedly at the floor.

"I'll hae to get a rat-trap," he murmured.

CHAPTER XVI

CALAMITY KEEPS HIS WORD

The next day a number of sampans and canoes loaded with fruit, vegetables, and flowers, came alongside the _Hawk_. Mr. d.y.k.es had been in error when he stated his belief that the Germans had cleared all the natives out. As it was discovered afterwards, the people had fled to the interior on hearing the guns and had only come back that afternoon.

Smith, walking along the deck, caught sight of Dora Fletcher leaning over the taffrail, just below which was a sampan loaded with wonderful tropical flowers. Its owner had been endeavouring to sell these, but without much success, because none of the crew wanted flowers, being chiefly concerned with the eatables.

"How much?" asked the girl of the native in the sampan.

The man did not understand English, but he comprehended the girl's gestures, and made some unintelligible reply.

Miss Fletcher, seeing Smith, asked if he would help her.

"Like a bird," answered the second-mate cheerfully, and, addressing the owner of the flowers, shouted something in the vernacular.

"Well?" queried the girl, when the man had answered.

"He says," answered Smith, "that you can have all those flowers for a pair of old trousers."

The girl stared at him with a look of astonishment that gradually gave place to amus.e.m.e.nt.

"It's the truth, straight," went on Smith, as though she had questioned the accuracy of his translation.

"What am I to do?" she asked helplessly. "I wanted those flowers."

"I dunno, unless--half a mo' though. I'll be back in a jiff," and the second-mate darted off towards his cabin.

He returned a couple of minutes later with a pair of greasy, paint-daubed trousers over his arm.

"Here, corffee-dial," he said, and flung the garments into the sampan.

The native's face expanded into a broad grin, he cast an approving eye over the discarded trousers, and then started to hand up the flowers.

"How's that?" demanded Smith triumphantly, when the sampan had been emptied.

"It's very kind of you," answered the girl. "How much do I owe you for the trousers?"

"Owe me!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the other. Then he smiled. "Well, I reckon I could have got a bob for them from a Whitechapel Sheeny."

"Then I owe you a shilling."

Smith nodded. He knew she would insist on paying him that shilling and was wondering how on earth she would raise it. He helped her to carry the flowers away and heap them on the bunk in her cabin.

"Oh, aren't they lovely?" she murmured.

"Um--m, I s'pose so," answered Smith, eyeing them critically, "but I'd rather have a c.o.kernut myself," whereupon he departed.

Dora Fletcher, susceptible to beauty herself, was amused at the second-mate's polite contempt for the flowers. She began to arrange them about the cabin, and, while doing so, was struck by a whimsical thought.

What, she wondered, would the grim and taciturn Captain think if he came back and found his cabin full of tastefully arranged flowers?

She paused for a minute with one finger on her underlip, considering the startling proposition. Then her mouth curved in an ironical little smile, and, half-amused, half-contemptuous of her action, she gathered up some scarlet hibiscus into a bunch and made her way towards the Captain's cabin. Descending the companion quietly, she found herself for the second time in that mysterious sanctum. It was not very large, and there were none of the homely decorations--photographs, pictures, and so forth--with which some skippers decorate their quarters. Some maps and charts, a pair of pistols, one or two bracket-shelves with books hung from the bulkheads, and the sideboards were littered with odds and ends--tobacco-pipes, half-empty boxes of matches, and other masculine lumber. The place reeked, too, of strong tobacco, and there were two or three cigar-b.u.t.ts lying on the table.

The girl glanced around her with an expression of mingled amus.e.m.e.nt and perplexity, then took a tumbler from the rack and filled it with water.

Having arranged the flowers in it to her satisfaction, she stood for a moment surveying the effect, with that half-ironical smile still playing about her lips.

As she stood thus, the cabin door opened softly and she swung round, the blood mounting in a crimson flood to her face. But, with a gasp of relief, she saw that the intruder was Sing-hi and not the Captain, and her heart ceased beating tumultuously.

The imperturbable celestial showed not the slightest sign of surprise at finding her there, and merely greeted her with his usual urbane smile.

"Sing-hi, I have been putting some flowers here for the Captain," she said; "but you're not to tell him I've been here--savee?"

"Savee," answered Sing-hi, and the girl left the cabin feeling tolerably sure that the Chinaman would not betray her.