Black August

In a voice that Kenyon would never have recognised as his own he gave the order. 'Repeat, sir,' same the answer of the Quartermaster below.

' “Put the telegraphs to half speed,” ' Kenyon said again, and Gregory stroked his lean cheeks with quiet satisfaction as he heard the reply gongs ring.

'Hard a' port,' he whispered a moment later, and when the order had been repeated the long destroyer slowly made a big half circle with a great churning of waters.

'Steady,' Gregory ordered. Kenyon reiterated the command, and they headed once more to the southward.

'That will do for the moment,' Gregory nodded. 'When we come opposite the North Foreland Light again I'll set another course to pass outside everything and then head down mid channel. We must keep our eyes skinned for shipping but fortunately there's little enough of that about these days.'

'Did you put those other men who broke prison behind the bars again, General?' Harker asked suddenly.

'No. To be quite frank, I didn't dare risk it. I'm pretty certain their leader's got a gun. He was playing with something devilish like it when I first went below and a few more of them may be equipped in the same way. If they had once made a rush for us we should have been downed in no time so I had to take a chance on the moral effect of outing one.'

'Don't you figure there'll be more trouble before morning then? I'd bet a hundred bucks to a nickel they're in conference again by now.'

Gregory laughed a little bitterly. 'I wouldn't take you even for a nickel, and I've been thinking of the best plan for holding the ship till morning. Once daylight comes we'll start in on the general round up, but it's a question of hanging on till then.'

'How about shifting all the troops aft?' Kenyon suggested.

'No. I'd thought of that but unfortunately they are not all reliable. Brisket and that other chap were on the revolutionary committee, you saw that yourself, and after the hot air they've heard this evening a lot of the others may have been won over.'

Harker nodded. 'Well, what's the drill then?'

'Go down and see Sergeant Thompson. Tell him that I don't want any but real, tigers about the bridge, and that he's to pick a dozen of the best N.C.O.'s or men, then bring them up here with as much ammunition as they can carry. Now, what about your lot?'

'All for King and country; they wouldn't be Greyshirts else.'

'Good, that gives us another seven. Tell Thompson to borrow rifles for them from the men who are left below. Excuse to the men they are to be taken from: rifle drill for the Greyshirts first parade in the morning. It's a bit thin but it's better than nothing and you'll be behind Thompson if there's any trouble.'

'Right, I'll see to it, General. What about this lad here?' Harker indicated the dark form of Broughton which lay stretched out behind him.

'He'll be coming round in a moment I suppose.'

'I doubt it; he hit his nob on a stanchion as he fell, poor chap, so I reckon he'll be under for some little time.'

'Never mind, we'll look after him; you get below and fetch up the Praetorian Guard.'

Kenyon was kneeling beside the Naval Lieutenant. He looked up at Gregory as Harker moved away. 'His head's cut badly, and he's bleeding like a pig.'

"Is he? We must get him below then. I don't mind killing mutineers or rioters, but I hate this business with the officers; they're only decent fellows doing their proper job.'

If we carry him down the ladder the Quartermaster will see that we've laid him out and then the fat will be in the fire.'

'That's true, but we must get him down somehow.'

"What abart them there signal 'alyards,' suggested Rudd who had been standing quietly in the background. 'Can't we 'itch 'im on to them, sir, an' lower 'im aft of the bridge darn on to the deck?'

'Splendid; that's the idea. Come on, give me a hand to lift him up. You slip down to the deck, Fane, and we'll lower him to you.' Gregory seized the unconscious sailor.

They tied the halyards firmly under his armpits, but just as they were about to put him over the rail, the Quartermaster's voice came weirdly to them from the pipe amidships.

'Damn,' muttered Gregory, 'hang on a minute and I'll see what it is.'

Rudd supported the Lieutenant while the General strode over to the tube. A moment later he was back again. 'That infernal Quartermaster is asking for his relief. I daren't send for the C.P.O. or he'll want to know what's happened to his officers. Quick, heave this chap over, hang on to the rope now, we don't want to break his neck.'

Broughton was lowered in a series of jerks to the waiting Kenyon and then Gregory turned back to Rudd. 'Nip down to the wheelhouse. The Quartermaster is certain to know that there has been trouble forward, tell him that owing to that he cannot be relieved at present. If he kicks and wants to speak to his officer stick your gun in his ribs and make him carry on. Harker will be back in a minute with the men.'

'Ay, ay, sir.' Rudd ran lightly down the ladder.

'Fane,' called Gregory in a sharp whisper leaning over the rail.

'Yes.'

'Have you got him off the line?'

'Yes, just finished.'

'Can you get him to the wardroom on your own?'

'I'll manage somehow.'

'Right! Tell the girls to look after him and bathe his head. Come back as soon as you can, and bring the Lewis guns with you; I had them stowed under the settee.'

'All right.' Kenyon slid his arm under the legs of the sailor, and gripping his wrist hoisted him over his shoulders in a 'fireman's lift.' Then he staggered aft and down the hatchway to the wardroom.

He was greeted by a flood of breathless questions from Ann and Veronica, and after he had laid the Lieutenant on the table he told them roughly what had happened, suppressing Gregory's extermination of Leading Seaman Nobes.

Veronica bent over Broughton. 'What have you done to the poor sweet?' she cried angrily as she saw the ugly wound on the side of his head.

'Silas Harker had to knock him out and he hit his head on an iron stanchion as he fell. Sallust says you are to bathe that cut and take care of him.'

'Of course we will, but where can we get some water?'

'One of the cabins I should think.' Kenyon was hurriedly pulling the Lewis guns from under the settee and Veronica looked over at him sharply.

'Where are you off to with those things, Galahad?'

'Taking them up to the bridge; General's orders.'

'Fee fie fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!' she said suspiciously. 'Are you about to enliven us with a little war?'

'I hope not. Just a precautionary measure.'

'I don't like the look of victim number two at all,' said Ann. 'Can't we get him off this hard table?'

'I'll lift him on to the settee if you like,' Kenyon volunteered.

'No, carry him along to his own cabin, he'll be more comfortable there, and we can wash his wound properly if there's water handy.'

'I must get these things up on the bridge.'

'Oh, we'll take the arsenal for you, if you'll carry him.'

'Right!' Kenyon handed over the Lewis guns to the two girls and pulled the recumbent sailor on to his shoulders again. They followed him out of the wardroom and along to Broughton's cabin where Kenyon laid the wounded man in his own bunk. Then he turned with his finger on his lips.

'For goodness' sake don't make a noise,' he whispered, I think Cousens lives next door, and if we wake him it will only mean more trouble. Sallust will probably be able to tackle him quietly once he's got control of the ship.'

Ann nodded silently and stepped over to the basin. Veronica was already pulling one of the Lieutenant's best white shirts out of a drawer to make a bandage.

Kenyon collected the guns again and turned for a second in the doorway. 'When you've done what you can for him, don't stay here. Get back to the wardroom, and to be on the safe side lock yourselves in though there's not likely to be any trouble this end of the ship.'