FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166  
167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   >>   >|  
he ladder he had been so long abusing right up against the side. "Now, then, up with yer, Mr Oliver Lane, sir." "No, no; up, Drew." "Quick: don't shilly-shally," roared Mr Rimmer. "Now, boys, fire!" A ragged volley came from overhead as Drew ran up the ladder, and then leaned down to hold out his hand to Panton, who went up more slowly, with an arrow sticking in his shoulder. "Now, Smith," cried Oliver. "No, sir. Orficers first," was the reply. "Confound you, you'll be too late!" roared Mr Rimmer, and Smith sprang up as the savages came on with a rush, and, literally driven by Wriggs to follow, Oliver went up next, while Wriggs followed him so closely that he touched and helped him all the while, the ladder quivering and bending and threatening to give way beneath their weight. The next moment the mate's strong hands had seized Oliver's sides and pitched him over the sail cloth to the deck, while, as Wriggs got hold of a rope and swung himself in, the ladder was seized and dragged away as a trophy taken from the enemy, the savages yelling wildly, and then increasing their rate of retreat, as a fresh volley was sent after them. "Oh, murder, look at that!" yelled Wriggs, excitedly, as he climbed up and looked over at the retreating foe. "Tommy, old lad, see here. The beggars! Arter my troubles too, all the night: they've carried off my ladder, after all." The moon was now high above the mist, and bathed the deck with the soft light, veining it at the same time with the black shadows of stay, spar, yard, and running rigging. "Don't fire, lads," cried Mr Rimmer. "We mustn't waste a shot. Wait till they come on again. Now, gentlemen, thank God you're all back safe again. Eh? Not safe? Don't say anyone's hurt." "Yes, Lane's hurt, and Panton." "So's Billy Wriggs, sir," said Smith. "Course I am, mate, so would you be if you'd slipped your foot between the ratlines of an ugly old ladder, and broke your ankle." "Why, I did, Billy, right up to the crutch, and snapped my thigh-bone in half," growled Smith. "I'll see to you as soon as I can. Here, two of you carry Mr Lane down into the cabin." "No, Mr Panton first," said Oliver. "He's worst." "Don't stand on ceremony, gentlemen," cried the mate, angrily. "Mr Drew, are you all right?" "Yes, sir." "Then take command here. You have your gun, keep a sharp look-out, and no mercy now, down with the first of the treacherous dogs
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166  
167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

ladder

 

Wriggs

 

Oliver

 

Panton

 

Rimmer

 

seized

 

gentlemen

 
savages
 

roared

 

volley


veining

 

running

 

bathed

 

shadows

 

rigging

 

ceremony

 
angrily
 

treacherous

 

command

 

ratlines


slipped

 

Course

 

growled

 

snapped

 

crutch

 

yelling

 
sprang
 

literally

 

driven

 

Confound


shoulder

 

Orficers

 

follow

 

bending

 

threatening

 

quivering

 

helped

 

closely

 
touched
 

sticking


shilly
 
abusing
 

shally

 
slowly
 

leaned

 
ragged
 

overhead

 

beneath

 

weight

 

excitedly