



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England





Fitz the Filibuster, by George Manville Fenn.

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Another well-written book of nautical adventure by a writer who is a
master of suspense.  Our hero is a young midshipman called Fitzgerald
Burnett, but always known as Fitz.  The warship in which he serves is on
Channel Patrol, and they are on the lookout for a smuggler who is
running arms to a friendly Central American small Republic.  They get
more caught up in the struggle that is going on in that country, and so
take part in several small fights and other tense situations.

The book is full of well-drawn characters, especially some of the old
seamen that Fitz has to deal with.  NH

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FITZ THE FILIBUSTER, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

ABOARD A GUNBOAT.

"Well, Mr Burnett, what is it?"

"Beg pardon, sir."

"Now, my good boy, have I not told you always to speak out in a sharp,
business-like way?  How in the world do you expect to get on in your
profession and become a smart officer, one who can give orders promptly
to his men, if you begin in that stammering, hesitating style?  Here,
I'm busy; what do you want?"

"I beg pardon, sir, I--"

"Will--you--speak--out!"

"Yes, sir; Mr Storks is going off to-night with an armed boat's crew--"

"Thank you, Mr Burnett, I am much obliged; but allow me to tell you
that your news is very stale, for I was perfectly aware of that fact,
and gave the orders to Mr Storks myself."

"Yes, sir; of course, sir; but--"

"My good boy, what do you want?"

"To go with them, sir."

"Oh!  Then why didn't you say so at first?"

"I didn't know how you'd take it, sir."

"Then you know now: very badly.  No; the boat's going on important
business, and I don't want her packed full of useless boys.  What good
do you expect you could do there?"

"Learn my profession, sir."

"Oh!  Ah!  H'm!  Well--that's smart.  Yes, I like that, Mr Burnett,
much better.  Well, I don't know what to say.  There's no danger.
Perhaps you will be away all the night and get no sleep."

"Shouldn't mind that, sir.  Mr Storks said that he wouldn't mind."

"Doesn't matter whether Mr Storks minds or not.  Well--yes; you may go.
There, there, no thanks; and--er--and--er--don't take any notice, Mr
Burnett; I am a little irritable this evening--maddening toothache, and
that sort of thing.  Don't get into mischief.  That'll do."

Commander Glossop, R.N., generally known as Captain of H.M.  Gunboat
_Tonans_, on special duty from the Channel Squadron, went below to his
cabin, and Fitzgerald Burnett--Fitz for short--midshipman, seemed
suddenly to have grown an inch taller, and comparatively stouter, as he
seemed to swell out with satisfaction, while his keen grey eyes
literally sparkled as he looked all a boy.

"Thought he was going to snap my head off," he mattered, as he began to
walk up and down, noticing sundry little preparations that were in
progress in connection with one of the quarter-boats, in which, as she
swung from the davits, a couple of the smart, barefooted sailors, whose
toes looked very pink in the chill air, were overhauling and
re-arranging oars, and the little mast, yard and sail, none of which
needed touching, for everything was already in naval apple-pie order.

Fitz Burnett ended his walk by stopping and looking on.

"Going along with us, sir?" said one of the sailors.

"Yes," said the lad shortly, and sharply enough to have satisfied his
superior if he had overheard.

"That's right, sir," said the man, so earnestly that the boy looked
pleased.

"Know where we are going, sir?" the other man ventured to ask.

"Is it likely?" was the reply; "and if I did know do you suppose that I
would tell you?"

"No, sir, of course not.  But it's going to be something desperate, sir,
because we have got to take all our tools."

"Ah, you'll see soon enough," said the boy, and full of the importance
of being one in some expedition that was to break the monotony of the
everyday routine, as well as to avoid further questioning, and any
approach to familiarity on the part of the men, Fitz continued his walk,
to come in contact directly after with another superior officer in the
shape of the lieutenant.

"Hullo, Mr Burnett!  So you are to go with us to-night, I hear."

"Yes, sir," cried the boy eagerly.  "Would you mind telling me what we
are going to do?"

"Then you don't know?"

"No, sir."

"Then why did you ask the captain to let you go?"

"I wanted to be there, sir.  Armed boat's crew going off!  It sounded so
exciting."

"I don't think that you will find much excitement, Mr Burnett; but wait
and see.  If you want more information I must refer you to the captain."

This last was accompanied by a nod and a good-humoured smile, as the
officer moved away to look at the boat, but turned his head to add--

"Better put on a warm jacket; I dare say we shall have a cold night's
work."

"I don't care," said the boy to himself.  "Anything for a change.  I do
get so tired of this humdrum steaming here and steaming there, and going
into port to fill up the coal-bunkers.  Being at sea isn't half so jolly
as I used to think it was, and it is so cold.  Wish we could get orders
to sail to one of those beautiful countries in the East Indies, or to
South America--anywhere away from these fogs and rains.  Why, we haven't
seen the sun for a week."

He went forward, to rest his arms on the bulwark and look out to sea.
The sight was not tempting.  The mouth of the Mersey is not attractive
on a misty day, and the nearest land aft showed like a low-down dirty
cloud.  Away on the horizon there was a long thick trail of smoke being
left behind by some outward-bound steamer, and running his eyes along
the horizon he caught sight of another being emitted from one of two
huge funnels which were all that was visible of some great Atlantic
steamer making for the busy port.

Nearer in there were two more vessels, one that he made out to be a
brig, and that was all.

"Ugh!" ejaculated the boy.  "I wish--I wish--What's the use of wishing?
One never gets what one wants.  Whatever are we going to do to-night?
It must mean smuggling.  Well, there will be something in that.  Going
aboard some small boat and looking at the skipper's papers, and if they
are not right putting somebody on board and bringing her into port.  But
there won't be any excitement like one reads about in books.  It's a
precious dull life coming to sea."

Fitz Burnett sighed and waited, for the evening was closing in fast, and
then he began to brighten in the expectation of the something fresh that
was to take place that night.  But knowing that it might be hours before
they started, he waited--and waited--and waited.

There is an old French proverb which says, _Tout vient a point a qui
sait attendre_, and this may be roughly interpreted, "Everything comes
to the man who waits."  Let's suppose that it comes to the boy.



CHAPTER TWO.

BRAVO, BOY!

The dim evening gave place to a dark night.  The _Tonans_ had for some
two or three hours been stealing along very slowly not far from land,
and that something important was on the way was evident from the
captain's movements, and the sharp look-out that was being kept up, and
still more so from the fact that no lights were shown.

The gunboat's cutter had been swung out ready for lowering down at a
moment's notice, the armed crew stood waiting, and one man was in the
stern-sheets whose duty it was to look after the lantern, which was kept
carefully shaded.

Fitz, who was the readiest of the ready, had long before noted with
intense interest the fact that they showed no lights, and his interest
increased when the lieutenant became so far communicative that he stood
gazing out through the darkness side by side with his junior, and said
softly--

"I am afraid we shall miss her, my lad.  She'll steal by us in the
darkness, and it will all prove to be labour in vain."

Fitz waited to hear more, but no more came, for the lieutenant moved off
to join the captain.

"I wish he wouldn't be so jolly mysterious," said the midshipman to
himself.  "I am an officer too, and he might have said a little more."

But it was all waiting, and no farther intercourse till close upon eight
bells, when Fitz, feeling regularly tired out, said to himself--

"Bother!  I wish I hadn't asked leave to go.  I should have been
comfortably asleep by now."

He had hardly thought this when there was a quick movement behind him,
and simultaneously he caught sight of a dim light off the starboard-bow.
An order was given in a low tone, and with a silence and method learned
on board a man-of-war, the boat's crew, followed by their officers, took
their places in the cutter, and in obedience to another command the boat
was lowered down, kissed the water, the hooks were withdrawn, she was
pushed off, the oars fell on either side, and away they glided over the
dancing waters in the direction of the distant light.

"Now we are off, Fitz," said the lieutenant eagerly, speaking almost in
a whisper, but without the slightest necessity, for the light was far
away.

"Yes, sir, now we are off," replied the boy, almost resentfully, and his
tone suggested that he would have liked to say, Why can't you tell me
where we are going?  Possibly the officer took it in this light, for he
continued--

"This ought to be a bit of excitement for you, Burnett.  We are after a
schooner bound for somewhere south, laden with contraband of war."

"War, sir?" whispered the lad excitedly.

"Well, some petty Central American squabble; and the captain has had
instructions that this schooner is going to steal out of port to-night.
Some one informed.  We got the information yesterday."

"Contraband, sir?"

"Yes; guns and ammunition which ought not to be allowed to be shipped
from an English port against a friendly state.--Give way, my men!"

The rowers responded by making their stout ashen blades bend, and the
cutter went forward in jerks through the rather choppy sea.

"Then we shall take the schooner, sir?"

"Yes, my lad, if we can."

"Then that means prize-money."

"Why, Burnett, are you as avaricious as that?"

"No, sir; no, sir; I was thinking about the men."

"Oh, that's right.  But don't count your chickens before they are
hatched."

"No, sir."

"We mayn't be able to board that vessel, and if we do, possibly it isn't
the one we want.  It's fifty to one it isn't.  Or it may be anything--
some trading brig or another going down south."

"Of course, sir.  There are so many that pass."

"At the same time it may be the one we want."

"Yes, sir."

"And then we shall be in luck."

"Yes, sir."

"They must surrender to our armed boat."

Fitz Burnett had had little experience of the sea, but none as connected
with an excursion in a boat on a dark night, to board a vessel whose
sailing light could be seen in the distance.

They had not gone far before the lieutenant tabooed all talking.

"Still as you can, my lads," he said.  "Sound travels far over the sea,
and lights are very deceptive."

The midshipman had already been thinking the same thing.  He had often
read of Will-o'-the-Wisps, but never seen one, and this light seemed to
answer the description exactly, for there it was, dimly-seen for a few
moments, then brightening, and slowly going up and down.  But the great
peculiarity was that now it seemed quite close at hand, now far distant,
and for the life of him he could not make out that they got any nearer.
He wanted to draw his companion's attention to that fact, but on turning
sharply to the lieutenant as if to speak, he was met by a low "Hist!"
which silenced him directly, while the men rowed steadily on for quite a
quarter of an hour longer, when all at once the lieutenant uttered in an
angry whisper--

"What are you doing, you clumsy scoundrel?"

For there was a sudden movement behind where they sat in the
stern-sheets, as if the man in charge of the lantern had slipped, with
the result that a dull gleam of light shone out for a few moments,
before its guardian scuffled the piece of sail-cloth by which it had
been covered, back into its place, and all was dark once more.

"Why, what were you about?" whispered the lieutenant angrily.

"Beg pardon, sir.  Slipped, sir."

"Slipped!  I believe you were asleep."

The man was silent.

"You were nodding off, weren't you?"

"Don't think I was, sir," was the reply.

But the man's officer was right, and the rest of the crew knew it, being
ready to a man, as they afterwards did, to declare that "that there Bill
Smith would caulk," as they termed taking a surreptitious nap, "even if
the gunboat were going down."

"Put your backs into it, my lads," whispered the lieutenant.  "Now then,
with a will; but quiet, quiet!"

As he spoke the speed of the boat increased and its progress made it
more unsteady, necessitating his steadying himself by gripping Fitz by
the collar as he stood up, shading his eyes and keeping a sharp look-out
ahead.

A low hissing sound suggestive of his vexation now escaped his lips, for
to his rage and disgust he saw plainly enough that their light must have
been noticed.

Fitz Burnett had come to the same conclusion, for though he strained his
eyes with all his power, the Will-o'-the-Wisp-like light that they were
chasing had disappeared.

"Gone!" thought the boy, whose heart was now beating heavily.  "They
must have seen our light and taken alarm.  That's bad.  No," he added to
himself, "it's good--capital, for it must mean that that was the light
of the vessel we were after.  Any honest skipper wouldn't have taken the
alarm."

"Use your eyes, Burnett, my lad," whispered the lieutenant, bending
down.  "We must have been close up to her when that idiot gave the
alarm.  See anything?"

"No, sir."

"Oh, tut, tut, tut, tut!" came in a low muttering tone.

"Look, boy, look; we must see her somehow.  How are we to go back and
face the captain if we fail like this?"

The boy made no reply, but strained his eyes again, to see darkness
everywhere that appeared to be growing darker moment by moment, except
in one spot, evidently where the land lay, and there a dull yellowish
light glared out that seemed to keep on winking at them derisively, now
fairly bright, now disappearing all at once, as the lantern revolved.

"Hold hard!" whispered the lieutenant, and the men lay on their oars,
with the boat gradually slackening its speed till it rose and fell,
rocking slowly on the choppy sea, and the eye-like lantern gave another
derisive wink twice, and then seemed to shut itself up tight.

"It's of no use to pull, Burnett," whispered the lieutenant.  "We may be
going right away.  See anything, my lads?"

"No, sir," came in a low murmur, and the culprit who had gone to sleep
sat and shivered as he thought of the "wigging," as he termed it, that
would be his when he went back on board the gunboat; and as the boat
rocked now in regular motion the darkness seemed to grow more profound,
while the silence to the midshipman seemed to be awful.

He was miserable too with disappointment, for he felt so mixed up with
the expedition that it seemed to him as if he was in fault, and that
when they returned he would have to share in the blame that Captain
Glossop would, as he termed it, "lay on thick."

"Oh, Mr Bill Smith," he said to himself, "just wait till we get back!"

And then a reaction took place.

"What's the good?" he thought.  "Poor fellow!  He'll get it hot enough
without me saying a word.  But how could a fellow go to sleep at a time
like this?"

"It's all up, Burnett," came in a whisper, close to his ear.  "The
milk's spilt, and it's no use crying over it, but after all these
preparations who could have expected such a mishap as that?--What's the
matter with you?" he added sharply.  "You'll have me overboard."

For the midshipman had suddenly sprung up from where he sat, nearly
overbalancing his superior officer as he gripped him tightly by the
chest with the right hand, and without replying stood rigidly pointing
over the side with his left, his arm stretched right across the
lieutenant's breast.

"You don't mean--you can see--Bravo, boy!--Pull, my lads, for all you
know."

As he spoke he dropped back into his seat, tugging hard with his right
hand at one of the rudder-lines, with