CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

I could not have been insensible many moments, for I was conscious of shouting and trampling, of a thick black smoke which made it seem like night, of voices giving orders, and Jarette yelling to his men now in French, now in English, and all the time there was a crushing weight across my legs and chest.

Then there were a couple of shots fired, and the shutting and banging of doors; some one shrieked, and a man was thrown back over the ma.s.s which held me down.

After that I must have been insensible again, for the next thing I remember is hearing a groan, and directly after the voices of men talking in a familiar way.

"That's it, lads; altogether, and out she comes."

I could see light now, for something was lifted off me, and I looked out through a framework of shattered woodwork at the bright sunshine.

"Now then," said the same voice; "lift him out on to the deck."

It was Bob Hampton speaking, and it was Dumlow who spoke next in a low growl.

"Poor lad; he's got it bad, arn't he?"

I thought in my half-stunned fashion that they were talking about me; but they were lifting some one else, and just then Jarette came up. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him blundering over the wreck around, and his words plain enough as he said sharply--

"Dead? Overboard with him if he is."

"No, he arn't dead," said Bob Hampton. "Doctors don't die in a hurry.

He'll come to and cure hisself, I dessay. Come on, mate."

In a muddled, dreamy way I knew now that it was a doctor they were carrying, and if it was a doctor I felt that it must be Mr Frewen; but what it all meant, or why I was lying there, I could not tell in the least.

There was half-darkness then for a little while, then light--then darkness again, and some one was leaning over me.

"Steady, lad," was growled, and I knew it was Bob Hampton again, and I tried to think and ask him what was the matter, but no words would come, though everything was growing very clear now, and the men's words bounded painfully sharp upon my ears.

"Got him?"

"Ay, ay."

"Heave then, together. No, hold hard; the corner of that portmanter's over his hind leg. That's it; hyste it away."

I felt myself laid down while something was done close to me, and then I was lifted once more and carried out into the warm sunshine, and laid upon the hot boards of the deck.

"Poor laddie," growled Bob Hampton, "he's got it badly. Rum world this here, Neb!"

"Orful," said Dumlow.

"Reg'lar wusser," said another voice, which I knew to be Blane's.

"Look sharp there, my lads," cried Jarette, from somewhere overhead, which must have been the p.o.o.p-deck. "That one dead?"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"You're a liar, Barney Blane."

"If he's dead, pitch him overboard."

"But he arn't dead, captain," growled Bob Hampton. "There's stuff enough in him to make a full-sized sailor yet, and he's far too good to be chucked over to the sharkses."

"But Barney Blane said he was dead."

"Don't you take no notice o' what Barney Blane says, skipper," cried Dumlow. "He dunno chalk from cheese best o' times, and I know he can't tell a dead man from mutton."

"Hear, hear, mate!" cried Bob Hampton. "Haw, haw, haw; we'll chuck the boy overboard if you like, capt'n; but there's a kick in one of his hind legs, an' I see him wink and waggle one ear."

"Let him lie there a bit till I come round," cried Jarette. "You go on and clear that cabin."

"Ay, ay," cried the three men who were near. "Come on, lads. Here, Barney, go and get that there pannikin o' water from the breaker, and pour some in the boy's mouth. What yer go and say he were dead for?"

"Well, mate, I thought as he were. He had enough to ha' killed a man, let alone a boy."

"You look sharp, and we'll pull him and the doctor through, see if we don't. I don't think no bones is broke. Them chesties sheltered 'em."

Then I felt water being trickled into my mouth and some poured over my forehead, while, though I could neither move nor speak, I heard Jarette's voice giving orders apparently ever so far away.

"Look sharp, lads," said Bob Hampton, "or Frog-soup 'll be back and bully us."

"Must give the jollop purser a drop more," said Dumlow. "Here, he arn't dead neither; takes the water down as free as if it were grog. They'll come right agen, won't they?"

"Ay, to be sure," said Bob Hampton. "Now then, heave ahead afore he comes. Rum games these here, messmets."

"Rum arn't the right word," said Dumlow, and then all was perfectly still again, and I lay there wondering what was the matter, and why I couldn't think as I should, and make out why I was lying there on my back in the hot sun listening to a low moaning sound, and some one close to my ear talking in a muttering tone.

Then there was silence again for I don't know how long: before there was another low moan, and the voice close by me muttered--

"Oh, for more strength--could have saved--"

The words died out, and I lay there wondering still. Then I felt that people were coming near me, and stopped talking together.

I must have grown a little more sensible then, for I recognised the voices as some one gave me a rude thrust with the foot.

"This boy's dead enough," and the words sounded so sharp and cruel that they quite stung me.

"I think he is," said another voice, which I knew to be that of Walters.

"Oh yes; try him," said the first speaker, Jarette, I was certain.

And now as I felt some one take hold of my hand and raise my arm, my full senses seemed to come, and with them an intense feeling of pain.

It was just as if the lifting of that arm was connected with something within me which had been stopped up, for as the arm was allowed to drop heavily back, and Walters said callously--"Yes; he's dead enough," I shouted as loudly as I could--"No, I'm not!" and opened my eyes to stare up at the group on deck.

There was a hearty burst of laughter at this, and I suppose it was partly directed at Walters, who sprang up as sharply as if I had bitten him, and then joined weakly in the laugh.