_ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. HOW THE MAJOR GAVE HIS ADVICE
As the major and Captain Strong hurried into the ladies' cabin on the cessation of the fighting it was to find them all ready, even to Mary, with bandages and pieces of linen to staunch the blood and help the poor fellows who had been wounded in their service; while as soon as Mark found that his services were no longer required as distributor of ammunition, he got together refreshments, and without being told handed them round to the wearied and bleeding sailors.
The food and the kindly words of sympathy they received seemed to put heart into the men, who had been ready to give up as soon as the rage and excitement of the fighting was over, but now they strung themselves up and patted their bandages, as if proud of having received them in the ladies' defence; though as the men grew more cheery the captain grew more serious.
"We shall have hard work to get through this afternoon," he said to the major, who lit a cigar and smoked as coolly as if there were no pirates for a hundred miles.
"No, you will not," was the blunt reply.
"Why, the savage wretches are swarming upon the decks," said the captain.
"Yes; but this afternoon is already gone. We shall have darkness soon."
"Gone! Why, it is five bells!"
"Yes, sir; fighting takes time. I say, how the smoke has cleared away!"
"Yes; it is less choking now," said the captain thoughtfully; and he went slowly to where Gregory was waiting and watching still for an attack upon the boat.
The captain said nothing further for some few minutes, and then returned to Morgan, who was very silent, and evidently weak and in great pain.
Here he had a long discussion, and as Mark watched him wonderingly, trying the while to make out what steps his father would take next, the captain went slowly to where the major was talking calmly enough to Mrs O'Halloran and his child.
"Nonsense!" he was saying; "there is no such a fine bit of Latin anywhere as nil desperandum. You never know what course a battle may take. Old Nap thought he had won Waterloo; but he had not. Cheer up, my dears! Look how young Mark Strong takes it. Well, captain, he added, leaving the cabin and joining him, what news? Have you naval gentlemen hatched the conspiracy?"
"It is no conspiracy, major," said the captain quietly; "but we have been trying to arrive at the best course of proceeding."
"Well, captain, and brother in affliction, what's to be done?"
"I propose a bold attempt to clear the deck of these scoundrels, major, during the night. Once get them over the side, we could keep them out. Will you give me your advice as a brave soldier who understands these things better than I, and will you fight with me?"
"My dear Strong," said the major sharply, as he caught the captain's hand; "you ought to have been a soldier, sir."
"But you see I am a sailor," said the captain with a sad smile.
"There's the pity, sir. Now to business. Will I fight with you! Bedad, sir, I've proved that."
"You have, my dear major, like the bravest of men."
"No, no. Tut, tut! Like a soldier should, sir. But now about this plan of yours."
"Yes, major, yes."
"Well, sir, there must be about eighty or ninety of these tawny rascals, and we are all more or less damaged, and, counting our young friend Mark, eleven men and three hospital nurses. Now the nurses can't fight, and Mark must still be powder-monkey, so there we are ten men, and, as I said, all damaged, to fight eighty."
"Yes," said the captain, "the odds are very great; but I think we might do it."
"Humph!" said the major. "I don't. No, my dear Strong; it would be a failure. I should like it immensely. I've been in several fights, and I was never in one yet which stood at eight to one. Yes, I should like it immensely; but there are the women."
"Yes," said the captain sadly; "there are the women."
"You don't think me turning tail because I speak so plainly?" said the major.
"No;--how could I, major!"
"Well, I don't know, sir. The world is far more ready to think a man a coward than a hero. But set aside that, it would not do, my dear fellow. We are Englishmen and Irishmen, and can do a great deal; but when it comes to eight to one there isn't room for one to move."
"You are right," said the captain with a groan. "My poor ship! my poor wife and boy!"
"Get out with you! Why, what now!" cried the major, whose eyes were wet with tears as he grasped the captain's hands. "We're not beaten yet, my dear boy, and we're not going to be. Now I tell you what is our duty, sir."
"Yes?"
"To put into that boat all the food and ammunition we've got, and then all get in quietly but one; and he'd stop back to get the old ship well alight; and then bad luck to the scoundrels on board, much good may it do them!"
"My poor ship!"
"But you'd rather sink her or burn her than let these dogs grow fat on what they get?"
"Certainly I would," said the captain.
"Then to-night, as soon as it's dark, let's do it, me dear boy, and make for one of the islands."
"But we could hold out for long enough yet."
"No," said the major gravely; "we're beaten, me dear sor. The poor lads are getting more stiff and sore every minute. To-morrow morning they won't have a bit of fight in them; why, even your humble servant, sir, who adores a scrimmage, would rather lie on a sofa and smoke till his wounds are healed. Now isn't it all true?"
"Yes," said the captain; "you are quite right; but we'll hold out till to-morrow. Help may come."
"To be sure it may," said the major cheerily. "I'm ready to wait. I've only spoken my mind."
"I thank you, major," said Captain Strong. "You are quite right. I felt that my plans were next door to madness; but I was ready to do anything sooner than lose my ship." _