The Island School : an original, thrilling, & absorbing story of school life and adventure

CHAPTER I. THE MAIL-BOAT. — LEXTEKS FOfi FBKMENXEKA

!S|S?UNE is a sunny month in the Mediterranean, and the sun never shone brighter in all its glory than on a certain day in that month, in the year one thousand eight hundred and eighty-seven.

Ploughing over the golden glittering deep, a mailsteamer,carryingthe Spanish flag, was bearing east, when a boat with a lateen Bail drew right across her path and let her canvas down. The act was apparently a mad one, but that 'ittle boat must have been expected, for the steamer at the same time slowed down, and veering a bit from her course, avoided a colHsion.

There were three sunburnt youngsters in the boat, one of whom sang out cheerily, in the English tongue, *' Mail-boat from Fermentera, please."

" All right, my lad," sang out the first ofGcer, who was in charge of the deck, " Now then, you post-ofHce sluggards, where are the bags ?"

Two panting mail-sorters and guardians of his Spanish Majesty's mails came hurrying up from below, each with a sack upon his shoulders. The boat with the youngsters had by this time drifted close in, and the sacks were lowered into her by two smart sailors.

"Is that all?"

" All, and enough, too, I should think. Do you want the correspondence of the earth for your island school ?"

The question and answer having been exchanged, the boat was pushed away, and her lateen sail smartly hoisted.

" Good-day to all of you !" sang out the trio of youngsters, in a chorus.

The post-office officials grunted something, not entirely intelligible, the mate responded with a cheery good-bye, some of the sailors grinned, and the little crowd of passengers leaning over the side, fore and aft, gave the boys a hearty parting word. Then the screw of the mighty steamer revolved, backing her a bit before they headed quite clear of the tiny boat. The wind caught the sail, and away went the small craft one way and the steamer the other, at such a pace that in a few minutes there was the better part of a mile between them.

Some of the passengers continued to wave their handkerchiefs or hats, and the boys, who were in sailor costume, answered by raising their caps until these movements of friendly adieu became indefinite in the distance.

Then the youngsters turned their attention to the mail-bags, one of them at the same time looking to the steering of the boat.

" You've a pretty good cheek of your own, Jim

THE ISLAND SCHOOL.

Gordon," said one, as he turned the bags over, " to ask if this was all, considering that it is the heaviest mail ever known for the school."

" It might have been heavier for all that," replied Gordon, coolly ; " there was no harm in asking. Besides, it is like your cheek to speak of it to me. Who is the captain of the sailing boats, Lai Brodie ? Answer me that, if you please ?"

" You are," replied Lai.

" Then why in the name of tarnation do you put impertinent questions to me f

" Because I did not know it was impertinent. "What say you, Stiff?"

" Cheek is pretty well apparent in the pair of you," said Stiff, laughing ; " but I think Gordon takes the cake."

"Silence fore and af fc !" shouted Gordon, in the authoritative tone of a naval captain.

" Ay, ay, sir !" replied the other two, and for a few moments they were quiet.

The boat sped across the water in the direction of land lying five or six miles away. The sail' that bore her along seemed to be tremendously tall for the boat, but she carried it gallantly, having a deep keel and plenty of ballast in the form of shingle in small sacks. Presently Brodie gravely saluted the youth at the helm.

" May we sink the official, sir ?" he asked.

" Yes, for a time," was the reply.

" All serene, Gordon," said Brodie, promptly changing his tone and manner. "Now as this is the first time I have been out to meet the mails, being only just appointed to the crew of the ' Swallow ' " (that was the name of the little craft), " may I ask how we get our letters if we miss the mail-boat ?"

" We never miss it in fine weather," was the reply.

" But it has been done, I reckon," persisted Brodie, "and then, where are they left ?"

" At Minorca, and we have to trust to a Spanish trader to bring the mail to us."

" Which they do, of course ?"

"In their own good time," said Gordon, with a ehrug. " They are a rough lot, for trader and smuggler here are synonymous terms."

"Sometimes," said Stiff, "the launch goes to Minorca to fetch the bags."

" It hasn't been for a year," said Jim Gordon, "because our own Napoleon got into trouble with some big Spanish toff living there."

" What was the row about ?" It was Brodie who put the question.

" Nobody knows," replied Jim Gordon ; " but since then our mighty chief won't allow even the would-be hucksters of Spanish origin to land on the island of Fermentera."

" Has he a full nght to stop them ?"

" I suppose so. Anyway, he pays a subsidy to the Spanish Government for the entire control of th© island."

" And it had no inhabitants ?"

" There were a few, I believe ; but when Napoleon Farrell made a bargain to hold it for a term of years, the Government induced the small number of residents to leave."

" Paid them out, I suppose ?"

" No. Took them away in a boat by the scruff of their necks, howling and protesting. Of course, that was before our school was established ; but I have heard, and really think, that something wUl come of it one day. Your true Spaniard never forgives a wrong, and it was one, you know ; for the island is a beautiful place, and they were very happy there. The people had really no ruler over them, and I fancy they made it a smuggler's station. But that is not our affair."

"It was a thunderitig good idea, starting a school like ours," said Stiff, " where a fellow gives his mornings to his books, and his afternoons to learning some useful business or profession. How many are there of us now ?"

" With the three that arrived last night overland and per fishing-smack," said Gordon, " we made up the two hundred, or there may be one over. I won't be sure."

" Here's a boat bearing down upon us," said Brodie, pointing aft.

They gazed in the direction of his extended forefinger, and about a mile in the rear beheld a boat, rigged as theirs was, but at least double the size, gaining upon them hand over hand.

Her sail was enormous, tapering towards the sky, with a small red flag fluttering at the topmost point.

There seemed to be at least half-a-dozen men in her, and there might be more, but at that distance it was impossible to say.

" I wonder what he is up to," muttered Gordon. " He is coming direct for us. I don't like the look oi it. Give the canvas another hoist, you two. We'll make for home smart."

" What can the fellow do to ua ?" asked Brodie.

" Run us down if he has a mind to," quietly answered Jim Gordon ; " anyway, I had orders not to get too near any of the native craft. The mail-boat is gone."

"Her hull is below the horizon," said Stiff.

" Then she can see nothing. On my word I think that fellow means mischief. Give the sail another pull, my boys! Up with her ! That's it! Now, if you lie over this side, we shall not have the fear of capsizing."

The boat in the rear responded with a similar hoisting of her lateen sail. Gordon, looking back, saw

THE MAIL-BOAT.

the men at worK upon it. But it appeared to him that she was already in full trim.

StUl the attempt to get more way on her tended to confirm his suspicions. He was now pretty well certain that the stranger meant mischief.

The " SAvallow" responded to the hoisting of her saU to its limit with increased speed, but for all that it was evident the stranger gained on them. The wind came from the north-east, about the best quarter when heading for the island, being well on her quarter without being quite abeam.

So the boats raced for a quarter of an hour, the boys scarcely saying a word, but watching the stranger closely.

The distance between them had by that time been shortened by a third.

" My eye !" exclaimed Brodie, suddenly, " she's got some speed on her."

" Built for it," briefly explained'Jim Gordon ; " she's a smuggler by trade, I'll warrant, and sluggards are not wanted in that line. Don't stare at her any longer, but just keep a side eye on her, Brodie. Report when I ask you how she is getting along. Stiff, go forward, and sham coiling that rope. You had better keep to windward still, as we have as much canvas as we can carry in this breeze."

" What's your game ?" asked Brodie in a whisper, as Stiff crept forward.

"The crew must not question the captain," answered Gordon. " Is she still coming straight at us?"

" As straight as an arrow."

" All right. Don't take any notice of her, but sham taking things easy. Smile as you talk, and look as if you didn't know she was within a hundred miles of us."

" How silent they are on board ! As a rule these fellows are jabbering and singing all the time."

" Well, you would not hear much of them at that distance, but I daresay they are quiet."

" She's coming along," muttered Brodie, a few minutes later ; " I can see the crew as clearly as if they were alongside."

" How many ?" a^ked Gordon.

" One, two, three — seven, and every one of the beggars staring straight at us."

" No doubt. How far away now ?"

" Not more than two furlongs — not so far. Say a furlong and a half."

" Stiff," said Jim Gordon, " obey orders, will you ? You are staring at that boat."

"Beg pardon, cap," said Stiff, deferentially, "couldn't help it."

" Stick to your job, and don't bo much as blink. Coming on, Brodie ?"

" Faster than ever. She seems to have got an extra bit of breeze with her. The fellows are as silent as a crew of dead men."

" And staring hard at us ?"

" As hard as they can. A black-muzzled lot." Jim Gordon said no more for the next few minutes, but sat looking ahead at the island, which was now well within sight. Objects of moderate size could be seen on the shore. But there were no signs of living beings or of dwelhngs. The boat was making straight for a creek that was from that distance no ^ore than a dent in the side of the island.

" Jim," whispered Brodie, who was biting his under-lip, and looked rather pale and anxious, " she's not half a furlong behind us."

" Tell me when she is but a cable's length from us," was the quiet reply.

" How she steals along ! I can scarcely hear the lapping of water against her bows."

" You can't hear it at all, Brodie, it is your fancy. The native craft makes little or no sound whatever. They are built for quiet voyaging. Don't look behind you. Stiff, for the last time, do as you are told. Sham being asleep, if you can do nothing else."

"All right," muttered Stiff, "but I'U be hanged if I can see your game."

" She's coming right up," said Brodie, " at us, Gordon."

" Yes, I guessed as much."

" It looks as if she means to run us down." " I am sure she does," said Gordon, quietly. " When she is within twenty feet of us rub your nose with your forefinger."

"What on earth for?"

" Do as you are told, you duffer. It's a signal they won't understand. Now, then, not another word. Lean back and look happy."

" I wish I could," muttered Brodie. " As far as the leaning back goes I can do it to perfection, but to look happy when I may be swimming for my life in two minutes or so, is more than I can do."

" When it comes to swdmming it will be all over with you," said Gordon. "Those blackguards will prevent that."

Jim Gordon, still keeping one hand on the tiller, stooped down, and thrusting his hand into one of the bags of ballast — the mouth was not tied — fished out a stone almost as big as his fist.

Holding it low and out of the sight of anyone not within a few feet of the craft, he awaited the signal from Brodie.

Stealthily, as some monster fish in pursuit of prey, the stranger boat bore down upon them. Brodie tried to keep cool and to appear at his ease, but it was difficult work. Sitting with his eyes half-closed, he kept a sidelong watch upon one who may justly ba called the enemy.

THE ISLAND SCHOOL.

Suddenly, with a jerky action, he raised his hand to his nose, and violently rubbed it as if a fly had stung him.

Jim coolly waited a few seconds more, and then put the rudder hard up, and sheered off to leeward with the speed of a horse taking a sharp turn while running in an open field.

The next moment the stranger vessel shot by, her crew uttering a yell of disappointment.

Jim started up, holding the tiller between his knees, and cast the stone he held at the man who was steering the other boat.

He was a swarthy, handsome man, with a wild, ferocious expression of face, the latter probably caused by his being foiled in his purpose by the dexterity of a boy.

The stone caught him fairly on the side of the head, and he fell from his seat as if he had been shot.

Immediately there was confusion on board the stranger, for the rudder being loosened, the boat veered round broadside to the wind, and threatened to capsize.

Jim Gordon, steering past the stern of the disorganised boat, speedily put the better part of a furlong between him and the malicious scoundrels.

" By George !" exclaimed Brodie, as he recovered his breath, " that was neatly done, Jim."

Stift' said nothing, he was so utterly taken aback by the manoeuvre so successfully executed.

" I reckon," said Jim, complacently, " that I had him there. How are they getting on ?"

He was steering for the creek, which was now less than a mile away, and had to watch for certain rocks and shoals he knew of.

" They've got the boat round on the back tack," replied Brodie, " and another fellow is at the helm. Tlie original party is holding his jaw and shaking his fist in this direction."

" Let him shake it till it drops oS" from his wrist," said Jim ; "his game was to run us down, I was sure of that ; but whether he intended to open a course of vengeance against us, which I fancy we are threatened with, or whether his game was to get the mail-bags for plunder, I can't say ; but we shall Boon know all about it."

"Our chief, Napoleon Farrell, ought to know of this attempt."

" I shall tell him, of course," said Jim Gordon, " but as a chief in the time of war I fancy our own Napoleon won't be worth much. We shall have to look elsewhere, or take care of ourselves."

'• I wonder why he was christened Napoleon," said Brodie, musing.

"His father bore a strong resemblance to that mighty man, and he is like his father," said Jim Gordon ; " so the name was given him — I have his assurance it was so, but I won't vouch for the truth of it. Anyhow, he is a very good imitation of the little corporal who once set Europe in a blaze. Here we are, home again from the perils of the deep."

As he spoke the " Swallow" glided into the creek, up which she moved with easy grace, losing most of the breeze in the shelter of the high rocks on either side.

Chapter II. The Gkeat School Op Fermentera

HE creek widened a short distance from the shore, opening out into a small lagoon. On the sea side of it were rocks, among which ferns and many varieties of flowers and shrubs grew in wild luxuriance, forming a picture of natural horticultural beauty that would have graced the grounds of a nobleman. Indeed, it may be doubted if in all the garden splendours of our cultivated grounds at home anything to compare •with it could be found.

On the inland side the ground sloped gradually from the shore to a wooded height, and fronting it was what at first sight looked like a small town, dominated by an ancient castle.

The castle was genuine, but the apparent town was a collection of modern buildings, erected by Mr. Napoleon Farrell, generally spoken of as Nap Farrell,

They were entirely built of wood, for economical purposes, but for all that, the eflect was that of substantiality.

In the centre was the main building, where two hundred boys were educated, fed, and generally cared for. Into the internal economy of the school we need not at present go. On either side stood a number of minor erections, used as workshops and for a variety of other purposes, in connection with what was known as the Great Educational Scheme of Napoleon Farrell.

Lying close to the inland shore of the lagoon were a number of ordinary rowing-boats of various sizes, and moored a short distance from the land lay a fair-sized steam launch.

A smudged-f ace man leaned over the bow, smoking a short pipe, and as the boat came in from the sea and slowly glided to the shore, he hailed the boys : " Got a good mail, my lads ?"

" A stiff one,'' answered Jim Gordon ; " pecks of letters."

THE GREAT SCHOOL OF FEBMENTERA.

" If there are any with the r'yal coat-of-arms on the envelope," said the man, with a grin, " they are for me ; or perhaps they may be directed to Rob Changeling, Esquire, without the family seal."

" All right," said Lai Brodie, " we'll see that you get all that are sent to you. Your correspondence generally isn't very heavy,"

" Never had a letter in ray life," sighed Rob Changeling, who was the engineer of the launch ; " that's what makes me so sad." Here he grinned again. " I ain't got no friends to bother me with news, or to j worrit me with asking for loans. Seen anything of anybody at sea ?"

They told him of the attempt made by the stranger craft to run them down, and he looked more serious than he had hitherto done.

" Blowed if I don't think we shall have some bother with these Spanish warmints. When I last took Napoleon over to Minorca, one o' em comes up in a boat right to the side of the launch. I was lolling over the side, as I am now — for I alius lolls when I gets the chance — and this chap takes out a knife and holds it up to me. ' It's a good knife,' I says, ' but I ain't a buyer to-day.*. Then he says something in his native gibberish, makes a cross the air with the weppin, and goes ashore again. Shortly afterwards Napoleon comes aboard, looking a bit white about the gills, and he orders me to git up steam smart, and make for home."

" They don't like our being here," said Jim Gordon, as he gently grounded the " Swallow" on the sandy shore, " but then, they have to lump it, you know."

The boys got out and lifted the sacks of letters and papers from the boat. Lai Brodie and Stiflfeach took one upon his shoulders and went off towards the school. Jim Gordon remained behind to complete the furling of the lateen sail and put the craft generally in order.

He was near enough to Rob Changeling to converse with hira without raising his voice.

" Rob," he said, " would you think I am at all a funky fellow ?"

" If I did, I should be a fool," grunted Rob.

" Well, then, I may admit to you that J am in a stew. There's mischief brewing, and Mr. Farrell ought to send Miss Eveline to Gibraltar, or right on to England, for a time."

"Why Miss Eveline," asked Rob, "more'n her mother?"

" I can't exactly tell you why I think so," said Jim, " but that is what is in my mind. In case of emergency, I suppose you could run the launch so far."

"Yos; she's got oil enough on board for the trip. That's the best of these yere new engines. Not wanting coal, the fuel storage is light."

" She may not be wanted for days or weeks," said Jim, as he rose up to go, "but you wUl keep her ready, wo n't you ?"

" Certainly, if you wishes it. I take more count of you than all the rest, including Nap. I don't fancy he'll come out too strong in a time of emergency."

" And you won't talk about what I have been saying to you to anyone ?"

" Not me. I have got a nateral gift of conversation"— here he grinned again — " but I don't go blabbing about."

Jim Gordon walked away towards the school with a thoughtful air. It was in the afternoon of the day, about half-past three o'clock. Ahead he could see his companions of the " Swallow" toiling along with the mail-bags upon their shoulders, but there was nobody else about.

As he drew near the buildings, he turned aside to a wooden hut of fair size, it may have been thirty feet square, standing clear of the rest. Into it Brodie and Stiff had by that time disappeared.

There was a window on that side of it, and under that the ordinary sHt of a letter-box. Just below the roof was a long board, on which was the following inscription, " Fermentera Post Office."

Jim paused by the door, and looked along the line of buildings composing the schools and workshops.

From one there came the sound of blacksmiths' hammers, from another the harsh grating of a handsaw, and from most of them the ring of young and cheery voices, some singing as they toUed.

At the far end on the left there was another detached erection, marked on the front " Laboratory."

Jim made a step as if he would have gone on to it, but changed his mind, and entered the post-office.

Inside was a double room, a partition dividing th» floor in two. The first part bore a rugged resemblance to an ordinary stamp-office, and the inner one was marked " Private."

Jim could have raised the flap of a counter that was a part of the furniture of the place, but he preferred vaulting over it, which he did with scarce an effort.

As one who had a right there, or was expected, he opened the door of the inner compartment and went in.

Five people were there already busy emptying the letters from the bags and sorting them.

Brodie and Stiff we know. The others were the schoolmaster, his wife and daughter.

Mr. Napoleon Farrell was a little man, bearing without a doubt a strong physical resemblance t« the great Napoleon. He increased it by wearing a frock-coat with broad lapels, always buttoned up, tight-fitting trousers, and Hessian boots.

THE ISLAND SCHOOL.

Mrs. Farrell was a woman of forty or more, and she must at one time have been very pretty. But years liiid faded her a bit, and she was now, in a pleasant way, a mincing little creature who would fain be still considered young.

There was one great point in her character, not always to be found in married women : she had an entire and all-abiding faith in her husband.

It was not shared by all the community on the island, of which more anon ; but she verily believed that if he tried, he could go forth and conquer the world.

Then there was Eveline, sixteen, and as sweet as ever a girl was at that age. Charming, unaffected, beaming with good-humour, and with a laughterloving ej^e, which she cast on Jim as he came in.

He flashed back a look, but beyond that they '©xchariged no greeting. Jim raised his cap to Mr. Farrell.

•' Well, Gordon," said Mr. Napoleon Farrell, "had a ^pleasant trip ?"

" Yes, sir," answered Jim. He was relieved to find that his companions had given the schoolmaster no inkling of what had happened. " For a monthly boat in the pay of the Spanish Government, she was very punctual. We knocked about three or four hours before we came across her."

" I really can never understand," said Mrs. Farrell, " how it is you boys escape being upset in that cockle- ■shell boat."

"Oh, mamma !" exclaimed Eveline, "as if Jim — I mean they — could be so stupid as to upset any boat." " I look upon their going out and coming home safely," said Mrs. Farrell, " as a constantly recurring miracle. I am glad I have no son, for, of course, if I had, he would be as daring as his father, and keeprce ever in the fidgets."

Mr. Farrell had never shown any striking gift for risking his life, but he folded his arms in the true Napoleonic style, and said gloomily :

" The great sorrow of my life is that I have no son to — to — follow in my footsteps. Eveline, you may proceed with the sorting, as the boys will be glad to have their letters as soon as possible."

Eveline, who had been exchanging a few words with Jim in an undertone, hastened to do the sorting, in which the boys assisted.

Among the contents of the sacks there were many newspapers for the schoolmaster and parcels for the boys. For half an hour the sorting went on, and then Eveline suddenly exclaimed :

" Oh ! what a funny, cramped direction ! A letter for you, papa. And with the Minorca post-mark, too. It must have been taken down to Gibraltar."

" From Minorca ?" said Mr. Nap Farrell, in slightly ti-emulous tones.

"Who can it be from?" inquired Mrs. Farrell, endeavouring to get a peep at the direction as her husband took it from Eveline.

" Oh, it is nothing," said the schoolmaster, hurriedly. " Perhaps a bill for some small article I forgot to pay for. Hasten, Eveline. The mail is wonderfully heavy this month."

He put the letter into his pocket, and was so visibly perturbed that Jim could not help occasionally casting a sidelong, inquiring glance at him. '

From matters already within his knowledge Jim feared that the letter from Minorca might be of serious import.

But he gained no information concerning it, for Mr. Napoleon Farrell, with his arms folded, gloomily paced the room as the sorting went on, occasionally pausing and taking up the attitude familiar to those who have seen the picture of " Napoleon at the door of his tent on the eve of Austerlitz."

By half-past four the letters were all sorted, and Mrs. Farrell pulled a rope hanging against the wall, and a bell hung outside clanged loudly.

A few moments elapsed, and then two youngsters appeared. They were the school postmen, to be entrusted with the delivery of letters to their respective owners.

They were given the letters only, the parcels being retained until called for in the evening, and Mr. Nap Farrell stole quietly away.

Jim had quite a little bundle of letters for himself, and he soon followed the schoolmaster, intent onfinding a quiet comer where he could sit down and tead those precious epistles from, home.

The young postmen were delivering the letters at the doors of the workshops, by which their recipents eagerly crowded. Jim hastened in the direction of a path that led to the back of the buildings, where there were many snug little nooks in the wood and shrubbery between the school and the castle.

He walked up a path, worn by the many feet that had trodden there, intent upon getting to a seat he knew of, close to the very gates of the castle, but was suddenly pulled up by a groan.

It came from human lips, and if he was not mistaken, from no less a person than the schoolmaster, the mighty modern Napoleon himself.

Jim stopped short and waited until he heard the sound repeated, and tracing it to some bushes on his right, he crept up and peered through the laced foliage.

Beyond it was a small open space, with a broken stone fountain in the centre. Seated on the edge of it was Mr. Nap Farrell, with his head bowed between his hands. Nervously gripped by his fingers was a letter, and the envelope it had been taken from lay upon the ground.