The Hero of Garside School

by J. Harwood Panting

  CHAPTER XLVIII

  THE BURNING SHIP

  The two boys had not gone very far before they came to a pause. It wasimpossible to see more than a few feet in front of them because of thedarkness.

  "Let's try to get a light," suggested Paul. "We can get one, I think, inthe place we've just come from."

  They returned to the chamber. Paul entered the recess from which Zukerhad brought the rope and the cushions, and found that it was quite astorehouse; one part of it for provisions, tinned meats, fruits, fish;another for wood, tools, weapons, models; a third, for a curiously mixedwardrobe, which Paul guessed served the purpose of disguise. Here hefound a lantern and matches, and thus provided with a light, theyresumed their way.

  The gallery or tunnel along which they now passed was about two hundredfeet long. The width, as Paul roughly judged, was about thirteen feet,narrowing to some six or seven feet at the top. It had been cut throughthe chalk bed, at a depth of about six feet below the sand which coveredit. At the end of this gallery were two passages, extending right andleft. Passing down the former, they found it blocked by heaps of sandand chalk.

  "It's quite certain we can't get out that way, Harry," said Paul; "we'dbetter try the other."

  So, retracing their footsteps once more, they passed along the otherpassage. It was not so wide as the one they had already traversed, butthe way was clear for a hundred yards or so; then the tunnel cameabruptly to an end.

  Paul regarded the wall in wonder. There was no way through it. Where,then, had Zuker gone? How had he managed to get out? Paul held thelantern up and examined the roof. It was clear to see that he wasstanding below what had once been the shaft to the tunnel. There werefootholes in the sides.

  "Ah, there's the way out! Hold the lantern, Harry, while I try to findthe open sesame," said Paul.

  Harry took the lantern, and Paul quickly made his way by means of thefootholes to the top. He could then see that there was a square spacewhich, though similar in appearance to the rest of the gallery,concealed the entrance to the shaft. He pushed it upward. It gaveeasily. It was a trap-door, leading into a square, ramshackle shed!

  Paul made his way through into the shed, and a minute later Harryfollowed his example. They closed the trap-door, which then formed partof the floor, and completely concealed the opening into the shaft.

  "Well, if that doesn't beat all!" exclaimed Harry, as the trap-doorfell. "Mr. Zuker and his confederates must have been very tricky. No onewould imagine what's beneath this old shed. Hallo! What's that?"

  As Harry spoke a lurid gleam of light lit up the semi-darkness of theshed; only for an instant; then it as quickly died out.

  "Seems like a fire somewhere," said Paul, as he tried to open the doorof the shed; but it would not open. It was locked on the outside.

  "We shall have to get through the window, Harry."

  There was a small window on the right of the shed, just wide enough toget through.

  "All right. Follow my leader, Paul."

  Paul soon mounted to the window and climbed through. Harry quicklyfollowed him. As he reached the ground there came another lurid gleam oflight; then it died out as quickly as before.

  "There it goes again, Paul. What is it?"

  Paul was asking himself the same question. What was it? Whence did thelight come? It was a dark night--no moon and few stars. But in thedistance they could see lights flitting about like will-o'-the-wispsfrom the mastheads of ships; so they knew they were not far from theMedway.

  "Thought so. We're close to the river," said Paul. "Now that we've foundout all that we can, we'd better make for Garside."

  "Yes. Hallo! there it goes again! Why--why, it's a ship on fire!"exclaimed Harry.

  It was now clear enough to see that Harry was right. A ship was on fire.The flames, at first spasmodic, uncertain, had now gained a completehold of the ship, and were shooting upward, like fiery serpents, intothe sky.

  All thought of Garside vanished from the boys' minds as they racedtowards the river. As they drew nearer, they could see that the unusualspectacle had already attracted a great throng of spectators to thebanks.

  Little wonder, for as the flames crept upward to the rigging, writhinginward and outward to the arms, it was a grand, if terrible sight. Andthere was pathos in it, too; for the ship on fire was one of the greatwooden ships in the Navy of the past. Its day of action--offighting--had long since passed. So, moored in midstream, it had beenused as a storeship.

  The signal-lights "Ship on Fire" flashed along the river, and apicket-boat from a flagship, with other boats, approached as near asthey could to the burning ship. Was there anybody on board? It seemednot--so far, at least, as could be seen.

  But suddenly a cry of horror went up from the crowd. A man had suddenlymade his appearance on the deck. He rushed about like a hunted fox,trying to elude its pursuers; then, finding it impossible, flunghimself, with a strange cry that long haunted Paul's ears, into theriver.

  Paul knew that the man was Zuker. The picket-boat tried to reach him,but could not. The fire had enveloped the sides of the old ship, andshot out tongues of flame from every porthole. For the space of a minuteZuker's figure was seen silhouetted in flame against the darkness. Thenthe waters closed over him, and he was seen no more.

  "That--that was Zuker. I'm sure of it," Paul whispered to Harry, when hecould speak.

  "I thought it looked like him, too," said Harry, in an awestruckwhisper. "What could he be doing on that ship?"

  "Up to no good, I'm afraid; but good or ill, his work is ended now."

  Zuker had at last come to his death by the element from which Paul'sfather had saved him so long ago.

  "Yes; I don't think he'll trouble anybody again," answered Harry, as heslipped his arm, with a shudder, through Paul's.

  The flames from the middle of the ship were now leaping fifty feet intothe air. The river manuals played upon it, but made little or noimpression. It seemed to hiss back contempt and defiance as the waterfell.

  The excitement of the spectators grew, for a new and terrible source ofdanger had revealed itself. The chains by which the old ship was mooredwere beginning to give way. If that happened, she might drift, a mass offlame, against any one of the warships lying in her path.

  "I say, Paul, this business may get father into a mess," Harrywhispered.

  Paul had forgotten, for the time, Mr. Moncrief's connection with theGovernment dockyard. Harry's words reminded him. A dread fear tookpossession of him. Perhaps the fire had all been designed--perhaps itwas the work of an incendiary, and that incendiary Mr. Moncrief'senemy--Zuker. So long as the fire was limited to the old wooden ship itwould not much matter, but if it once got from its moorings, it wasimpossible to say where the mischief would end.

  "Oh, you needn't worry about your father, Harry," Paul answered, puttingon his most cheerful voice and manner. "No one could blame him for aship catching fire."

  "I don't know so much about that. Pater's held responsible for almosteverything. It's a great shame, that's what it is."

  Paul thought the same, but did not venture to express an opinion. A buzzof excitement from the crowd broke in upon his meditations.

  Looking in the direction in which all eyes were turned, he saw that agunboat was steaming along the river. It was making for the flaminghulk.

  "What's it going to do?" cried Harry, clutching Paul's arm excitedly."It'll be right into the burning ship."

  Paul was too intent on watching the man[oe]uvres of the gunboat toanswer.

  Suddenly, when it had got to within one hundred yards of the burningship, it stopped and opened fire, just as though it had entered intoaction. Its target was the old ship--a mass of flame from bow to stern.The first shell, missing its mark, went hissing into the river. Jets ofwater shot upward into the air and fell in a sparkling cascade.

  Boom! A flash of light from the gunboat, a whiff of smoke. This time theshell finds its target. Myriads of sparks are whirled in a mad dance tothe heavens, then drop
again like golden rain into the river. Shellfollowed shell. The old warship, engaged in its last great battle,fought grimly on. Like the old Guard, it refused to surrender. Twelveshots had been fired. Raked from bow to stern, it was a patheticspectacle, like some huge leviathan lying wounded to death on the water,with its undaunted heart throbbing a requiem.

  Shell could not vanquish it, so a charge of guncotton was explodedimmediately beneath it; then the old warship gave a lurch. There was aflash of light--its last dying effort. After, darkness. The great tongueof flame was engulfed in the waters.

  The boys had been so absorbed in the terrible spectacle that they hadtaken no heed of time. But when the ship had gone down, they found thatit was ten o'clock. Garside was a good three miles distant, so that itwould be close upon eleven before they reached the school again.

  Three or four search-parties had been formed under the masters, and theymet one of these as they neared the gates. It had been decided betweenPaul and Harry that nothing should be said about their adventures in thecave until Paul had had an explanation with Mr. Weevil. There was, ofcourse, no reason why they should not speak of the exciting spectaclethey had witnessed on the river.

  "It must have been a remarkable sight," admitted Mr. Travers, the headof the search-party, "but I don't think Mr. Weevil is likely to acceptit as an excuse for your long absence from the school. Besides, you hadno business to take with you a junior boy."

  Harry was about to explain that he had followed of his own accord, but aglance from Paul kept him silent. When they reached the school, theyfound Mr. Weevil awaiting them in the hall. He seemed to know thatsomething unusual had happened.

  "Come to my room, Percival," he said.

  Percival followed him to his room, just as he had done on that day whenHibbert died.

  "Something has happened. What is it?" he demanded, as he closed thedoor.

  There was no need for secrecy longer, so Paul told the mastereverything--how he had discovered Hibbert's parentage; how he haddiscovered the cave, and all the events that had happened in the trainof these discoveries up to the moment of Zuker's death.

  "Zuker dead!" exclaimed the master, when Paul came to this part of hisstory. "You are sure of it?"

  "As certain as I can be of anything, sir."

  Mr. Weevil paced up and down the room with his arms behind him. It wasvery clear to Paul to observe that he was very much agitated.

  "Dead! dead!" he kept repeating; then suddenly stopped, and confrontingPaul astonished him by abruptly demanding: "And what do you think ofme--eh? What do you think of your master--eh? You think him a preciousscoundrel--eh? You think that he ought to be with Zuker in theriver--eh?"