Chapter X

The Siege of the Round-House

But now our time of truce was come to an end. Those on deck had waited for my coming till they grew impatient; and scarce had Alan spoken, when the captain showed face in the open door.

‘Stand!’ cried Alan, and pointed his sword at him. The captain stood, indeed; but he neither winced nor drew back a foot.

‘A naked sword?’ says he. ‘This is a strange return for hospitality.’

‘Do ye see me?’ said Alan. ‘Do ye see my sword? The sooner the clash begins, the sooner ye’ll taste this steel throughout your vitals.’

The captain said nothing to Alan, but he looked over at me with an ugly look. ‘David,’ said he, ‘I’ll mind this.’

Next moment he was gone.

‘And now,’ said Alan, ‘let your hand keep your head, for the grip is coming.’

Alan drew a dirk, which he held in his left hand in case they should run in under his sword. I, on my part, clambered up into the berth with an armful of pistols and something of a heavy heart, and set open the window where I was to watch. There was a great stillness in the ship, in which I made sure I heard the sound of muttering voices. A little after, and there came a clash of steel upon the deck, by which I knew they were dealing out the cutlasses, and after that, silence again.

I do not know if I was what you call afraid; but my heart beat like a bird’s; and there was a dimness came before my eyes. As for hope, I had none; but only a darkness of despair and a sort of anger against all the world that made me long to sell my life as dear as I was able. My chief wish was to have the thing begin and be done with it.

It came all of a sudden when it did, with a rush of feet and a roar, and then a shout from Alan, and a sound of blows and someone crying out as if hurt. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw Mr. Shuan in the doorway, crossing blades with Alan.

‘That’s him that killed the boy!’ I cried.

‘Look to your window!’ said Alan; and as I turned back to my place, I saw him pass his sword through the mate’s body.

It was none too soon for me to look to my own part; for five men, carrying a spare yard for a battering-ram, ran past me and took post to drive the door in. I had never fired with a pistol in my life. But it was now or never; and just as they swang the yard, I cried out: ‘Take that!’ and shot into their midst.

I must have hit one of them, for he sang out and gave back a step, and the rest stopped as if a little disconcerted. Before they had time to recover, I sent another ball over their heads; and at my third shot (which went as wide as the second) the whole party threw down the yard and ran for it.

Then I looked round again into the deck-house. There was Alan, standing as before; only now his sword was running blood to the hilt, and himself so swelled with triumph and fallen into so fine an attitude, that he looked to be invincible. Right before him on the floor was Mr. Shuan, he was sinking slowly lower, with a terrible, white face; and just as I looked, some of those from behind caught hold of him by the heels and dragged him bodily out of the round-house. I believe he died as they were doing it.

‘There’s one of your Whigs for ye!’ cried Alan; and then turning to me, he asked if I had done much execution. I told him I had winged one, and thought it was the captain.

‘And I’ve settled two,’ says he. ‘No, there’s not enough blood let; they’ll be back again. To your watch, David. This was but a dram before meat.’

I settled back to my place, re-charging the three pistols I had fired, and keeping watch with both eye and ear.

Our enemies were disputing not far off upon the deck, one person spoke most of the time, as though laying down a plan, and first one and then another answered him briefly, like men taking orders. By this, I made sure they were coming on again, and told Alan.

‘It’s what we have to pray for,’ said he. ‘But this time, mind, they’ll be in earnest.’

By this, my pistols were ready, and there was nothing to do but listen and wait.

I began to hear stealthy steps and a brushing of men’s clothes against the round-house wall, and knew they were taking their places in the dark.

All this was upon Alan’s side; and I had begun to think my share of the fight was at an end, when I heard someone drop softly on the roof above me.

Then there came a single call on the sea-pipe, and that was the signal. A knot of them made one rush of it, cutlass in hand, against the door; and at the same moment, the glass of the skylight was dashed in a thousand pieces, and a man leaped through and landed on the floor. Before he got his feet, I had clapped a pistol to his back, and might have shot him, too; only at the touch of him (and him alive) my whole flesh misgave me, and I could no more pull the trigger than I could have flown.

He had dropped his cutlass as he jumped, and when he felt the pistol, whipped straight round and laid hold of me, roaring out an oath; and at that either my courage came again, or I grew so much afraid as came to the same thing; for I gave a shriek and shot him in the midst of the body. He gave the most horrible, ugly groan and fell to the floor. The foot of a second fellow, whose legs were dangling through the skylight, struck me at the same time upon the head; and at that I snatched another pistol and shot this one through the thigh. There was no talk of missing, any more than there was time to aim; I clapped the muzzle to the very place and fired.

I heard Alan shout as if for help, and that brought me to my senses.

One of the seamen, while he was engaged with others, had run in under his guard and caught him about the body. Another had broken in and had his cutlass raised. The door was thronged with their faces. I thought we were lost, and catching up my cutlass, fell on them in flank. But I had not time to be of help. The wrestler dropped at last; and Alan, leaping back to get his distance, ran upon the others like a bull, roaring as he went. They broke before him like water, turning, and running, and falling one against another in their haste. I was still thinking we were lost, when lo! they were all gone, and Alan was driving them along the deck as a sheepdog chases sheep.

Yet he was no sooner out than he was back again, being as cautious as he was brave; and meanwhile the seamen continued running and crying out as if he was still behind them; and we heard them tumble one upon another into the forecastle, and clap-to the hatch upon the top.

He came up to me with open arms. ‘Come to my arms!’ he cried, and embraced and kissed me hard upon both cheek. ‘David,’ said he, ‘I love you like a brother. And O, man,’ he cried in a kind of ecstasy, ‘am I no a bonny fighter?’

Thereupon he turned to the four enemies, passed his sword clean through each of them, and tumbled them out of doors one after the other. All the while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a five-year-old child’s with a new toy.

With the long suspense of the waiting, and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting, and more than all, the horror I had of some of my own share in it, the thing was no sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat. There was that tightness on my chest that I could hardly breathe; the thought of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a nightmare; and all upon a sudden, and before I had a guess of what was coming, I began to sob and cry like any child. Alan clapped my shoulder, and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing but a sleep.

‘I’ll take the first watch,’ said he. ‘Ye’ve done well by me, David, first and last; and I wouldn’t lose you for all Appin – no, nor for Breadalbane.’

So I made up my bed on the floor; and he took the first spell, pistol in hand and sword on knee, three hours by the captain’s watch upon the wall. Then he roused me up, and I took my turn of three hours; before the end of which it was broad day, and a very quiet morning, with a smooth, rolling sea that tossed the ship and made the blood run to and fro on the round-house floor, and a heavy rain that drummed upon the roof. All my watch there was nothing stirring.

It was a mercy the night had fallen so still, for the wind had gone down as soon as the rain began. Even as it was, I judged by the wailing of a great number of gulls that went crying and fishing round the ship, that she must have drifted pretty near the coast or one of the islands of the Hebrides; and at last, looking out of the door of the round-house, I saw the great stone hills of Skye on the right hand, and, a little more astern, the strange isle of Rum.

Chapter XI

The Captain Knuckles Under

Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The floor was covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of blood, which took away my hunger. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the drink in the ship – both wine and spirits – and all the dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour.

We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed himself most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me off one of the silver buttons from his coat.

‘I had them,’ says he, ‘from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now give ye one of them to be a keepsake for last night’s work. And wherever ye go and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.’

He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies; and indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger of smiling at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my countenance, I would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have followed.

As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the captain’s locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking off his coat, began to visit his suit and brush away the stains, with such care and labour as I supposed to have been only usual with women.

He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight and sitting on the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold front, though inwardly in fear of broken glass, hailed him back again and bade him speak out. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward in the battle, had got off with nothing worse than a blow upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having been all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the wounded.

‘The captain,’ says he, ‘would like to speak with your friend. They might speak at the window.’

‘And how do we know what treachery he means?’ cried I.

‘He means none, David,’ returned Mr. Riach, ‘and if he did, I’ll tell ye the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow.’

‘Is that so?’ said I.

‘I’ll tell ye more than that,’ said he. ‘It’s not only the men; it’s me. I’m frich’ened, Davie.’ And he smiled across at me. ‘No,’ he continued, ‘what we want is to be shut of him.’

Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr. Riach’s business, and he now begged me for a dram with such instancy and such reminders of his former kindness, that at last I handed him a pannikin with about a gill of brandy.

A little after, the captain came (as was agreed) to one of the windows, and stood there in the rain, with his arm in a sling, and looking stern and pale, and so old that my heart smote me for having fired upon him.

Alan at once held a pistol in his face.

‘Put that thing up!’ said the captain. ‘Have I not passed my word, sir? Or do ye seek to affront me?’

‘Captain,’ says Alan, ‘I doubt your word is a breakable. Last night ye haggled and argle-bargled like an apple-wife; and then passed me your word, and gave me your hand to back it; and ye ken very well what was the upshot. Be damned to your word!’ says he.

‘Well, well, sir,’ said the captain, ‘ye’ll get little good by swearing. But we have other things to speak,’ he continued, bitterly. ‘Ye’ve made a sore hash of my brig; I haven’t hands enough left to work her; and my first officer (whom I could ill spare) has got your sword throughout his vitals, and passed without speech. There is nothing left me, sir, but to put back into the port of Glasgow after hands; and there (by your leave) ye will find them that are better able to talk to you.’

‘No,’ said Alan, ‘that’ll no do. Ye’ll just have to set me ashore as we agreed.’

‘Ay,’ said Hoseason, ‘but my first officer is dead – ye ken best how. There’s none of the rest of us acquaint with this coast, sir; and it’s one very dangerous to ships.’

‘I give ye your choice,’ says Alan. ‘Set me on dry ground in Appin, or Ardgour, or in Morven, or Arisaig, or Morar; or, in brief, where ye please, within thirty miles of my own country; except in a country of the Campbells. That’s a broad target. If ye miss that, ye must be as feckless at the sailoring as I have found ye at the fighting.’

‘But all this will cost money, sir,’ said the captain.

‘Well, sir,’ says Alan, ‘I am nae weathercock. Thirty guineas, if ye land me on the sea-side; and sixty, if ye put me in the Linnhe Loch.’

‘If I had lost less money on this unchancy cruise,’ says he, ‘I would see you in a rope’s end before I risked my brig, sir. But be it as ye will. As soon as I get a slant of wind (and there’s some coming, or I’m the more mistaken) I’ll put it in hand.’

‘Captain,’ says Alan, ‘as I hear you’re a little short of brandy in the fore-part, I’ll offer ye a change: a bottle of brandy against two buckets of water.’

That was the last clause of the treaty, and was duly executed on both sides; so that Alan and I could at last wash out the round-house and be quit of the memorials of those whom we had slain, and the captain and Mr. Riach could be happy again in their own way, the name of which was drink.