Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.The frigate blown up.The Americans had been joined by a number of the Frenchmen, and some few of the worst characters of the English crew—the jail-birds chiefly, who had been won over with the idea that they would sail away to some beautiful island, of which they might take possession; and live in independence, or else rove over the ocean with freedom from all discipline.They had armed themselves with billets of wood and handspikes; and some had got hold of knives and axes, which they had secreted. They rushed on deck expecting quickly to overpower the watch.Great was their dismay to find themselves encountered by a strong body of armed men, who seized them, or knocked them down directly they appeared.So quickly were the first overpowered that they had no time to give the alarm to their confederates below, and thus, as fresh numbers came up, they were treated like the first. In a couple of minutes the whole of the mutineers were overpowered.The Frenchmen who had not actually joined them cried out for mercy, declaring that they had no intention of doing so.What might have been the case had the Americans been successful was another matter.All those who had taken part in the outbreak having been secured, Captain Waring sent a party of marines to search for the American captain. He was quickly found, and brought on the quarter-deck.“You have broken your word of honour; you have instigated the crew to mutiny, and I should be justified were I to run you up to the yard-arm!” said Captain Waring, sternly.“You would have done the same,” answered the American captain, boldly. “Such acts when successful have always been applauded.”“Not, sir, if I had given my word of honour, as you did, not to interfere with the discipline of the ship,” said Captain Waring. “You are now under arrest, and, with those who supported you, will remain in irons till we reach England.”Captain Gregory had not a word to say for himself. The French captain, far from pleading for him, expressed his satisfaction that he had been so treated.He and the officers who had joined him were marched off under a guard to have their irons fixed on by the armourer.After this it became necessary to keep a strict watch on all the prisoners, and especially on the Americans, a large proportion of whom were found to be English seamen, and some of theFoxhound’screw recognised old shipmates among them.Captain Waring, believing that he could trust to the French captain and his officers, allowed them to remain on their parole, a circumstance which greatly aggravated the feelings of Captain Gregory.The captain had not forgotten Bill, who, by the timely information he had given, had materially contributed to preserve the ship from capture. Bill himself did not think that he had done anything wonderful; his chief anxiety was lest the fact of his having given the information should become known. The sentinel might guess at it, but otherwise the captain alone could know anything about it. Bill, as soon as he had told his story to the captain, and found that it was credited, stole away forward among the rest of the crew on deck, where he took very good care not to say a word of what had happened; so that not till the trustworthy men received orders to be prepared for an outbreak were they aware of what was likely to occur.He therefore fancied that his secret had been kept, and that it would never be known; he was, consequently, surprised when the following morning the ship’s corporal, touching his shoulder, told him that the captain wanted to speak to him.Bill went aft, feeling somewhat alarmed at the thoughts of being spoken to by the captain.On the previous evening he had been excited by being impressed with the importance of the matter he was about to communicate, but now he had time to wonder what the captain would say to him.He met Tom and Jack by the way.“Where are you going?” asked Tom.Bill told him.“I shouldn’t wish to be in your shoes,” remarked Tom. “What have you been about?”Bill could not stop to answer, but followed his conductor to the cabin door.The sentry, without inquiry, admitted him.The captain, who was seated at a table in the cabin, near which the first lieutenant was standing, received him with a kind look.“What is your name, boy?” he asked.“William Rayner, sir,” said Bill.“Can you read and write pretty well?”“No great hand at either, sir,” answered Bill. “Mother taught me when I was a little chap, but I have not had much chance of learning since then.”“Should you like to improve yourself?” asked the captain.“Yes, sir; but I have not books, or paper, or pens.”“We’ll see about that,” said the captain. “The information you gave me last night was of the greatest importance, and I wish to find some means of rewarding you. When we reach England, I will make known your conduct to the proper authorities, and I should like to communicate with your parents.”“Please, sir, I have no parents; they are both dead, and I have no relations that I know of; but I am much obliged to you, sir,” answered Bill, who kept wondering what the captain was driving at.“Well, my boy, I will keep an eye on you,” said the captain. “Mr Saltwell, you will see what is best to be done with William Rayner,” he added, turning to the first lieutenant. “If you wish to learn to read and write, you can come and get instruction every day from my clerk, Mr Finch. I will give him directions to teach you; but remember you are not forced to do it.”“Thank you, sir,” said Bill. “I should like to learn very much.”After a few more words, the captain dismissed Bill, who felt greatly relieved when the formidable interview was over.As he wisely kept secret the fact of his having given information of the mutiny, his messmates wondered what could have induced the captain so suddenly to take an interest in him.Every day he went aft for his lesson, and Mr Finch, who was a good-natured young man, was very kind. Bill, who was remarkably quick, made great progress, and his instructor was much pleased with him.He could soon read easily, and Mr Finch, by the captain’s orders, lent him several books.The master’s assistant, calling him one day, told him that he had received orders from the captain to teach him navigation, and, greatly to his surprise, put a quadrant into his hands, and showed him how to use it.Bill all this time had not an inkling of what the captain intended for him. It never occurred to him that the captain could have perceived any merits or qualifications sufficient to raise him out of his present position, but he was content to do his duty where he was.Tom felt somewhat jealous of the favour Bill was receiving, though he pretended to pity him for having to go and learn lessons every day. Tom, indeed, knew a good deal more than Bill, as he had been at school, and could read very well, though he could not boast much of his writing.Jack could neither read nor write, and had no great ambition to learn; but he was glad, as Bill seemed to like it, that he had the chance of picking up knowledge.“Perhaps the captain intends to make you his clerk, or maybe some day you will become his coxswain,” observed Jack, whose ambition soared no higher. “I should like to be that, but I suppose that it is not necessary to be able to read, or write, or sum. I never could make any hand at those things, but you seem up to them, and so it’s all right that you should learn.”Notwithstanding the mark of distinction Bill was receiving, the three young messmates remained very good friends.Bill, however, found himself much better off than he had before been. That the captain patronised him was soon known to all, and few ventured to lay a rope’s-end on his back, as formerly, while he was well treated in other respects.Bill kept his eyes open and his wits awake on all occasions, and thus rapidly picked up a good knowledge of seamanship, such as few boys of his age who had been so short a time at sea possessed.TheFoxhoundand her prizes were slowly making their way to England. No enemy appeared to rob her of them, though they were detained by contrary winds for some time in the chops of the Channel.At length the wind shifted a point or two, and they were able to get some way up it. The weather, however, became cloudy and dark, and no observation could be taken.It was a trying time, for the provisions and water, in consequence of the number of souls on board, had run short.The captain was doubly anxious to get into port; still, do all he could, but little progress was made, till one night the wind again shifted and the sky cleared. The master was aware that the ship was farther over to the French coast than was desirable, but her exact position it was difficult to determine.The first streaks of sunlight had appeared in the eastern sky, when the look-out shouted—“A ship to the southward, under all sail.”As the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the stranger, which was now seen clearly, standing towards theFoxhound.Captain Waring made a signal to the two prizes, which were somewhat to the northward, to make all sail for Plymouth, while theFoxhound, under more moderate canvas, stood off shore.Should the stranger prove an enemy, of which there was little doubt, Captain Waring determined to try and draw her away from the French coast, which could be dimly seen in the distance. He, at the same time, did not wish to make an enemy suppose that he was flying. Though ready enough to fight, he would rather first have got rid of his prisoners, but that could not now be done.It was necessary, therefore, to double the sentries over them, and to make them clearly understand that, should any of them attempt in any way to interfere, they would immediately be shot.Jack, Tom, and Bill had seen the stranger in the distance, and they guessed that they should before long be engaged in a fierce fight with her. There was no doubt that she was French. She was coming up rapidly.The captain now ordered the ship to be cleared for action. The men went readily to their guns. They did not ask whether a big or small ship was to be their opponent, but stood prepared to fight as long as the captain and officers ordered them, hoping, at all events, to beat the enemy.The powder-monkeys, as before, having been sent down to bring up the ammunition, took their places on their tubs. Of course they could see but little of what was going forward, but through one of the ports they at last caught sight of the enemy, which appeared to be considerably larger than theFoxhound.“We have been and caught a Tartar,” Bill heard one of the seamen observe.“Maybe. But whether Turk or Tartar, we’ll beat him,” answered another.An order was passed along the decks that not a gun should be fired till the captain gave the word. The boys had not forgotten their fight a few weeks before, and had an idea that this was to turn out something like that. Then the shot of the enemy had passed between the masts and the rigging; but scarcely one had struck the hull, nor had a man been hurt, so they had begun to fancy that fighting was a very bloodless affair.“What shall we do with the prisoners, if we take her, I wonder?” asked Tom. “We’ve got Monsieurs enough on board already.”“I daresay the captain will know what to do with them,” responded Bill.“We must not count our chickens before they’re hatched,” said Jack. “Howsumdever, we’ll do our best.” Jack’s remark, which was heard by some of the crew of the gun near which he was seated, caused a laugh.“What do you call your best, Jack?” asked Ned Green.“Sitting on my tub, and handing out the powder as you want it,” answered Jack. “What more would you have me do, I should like to know?”“Well said, Jack,” observed Green. “We’ll work our guns as fast as we can, and you’ll hand out the powder as we want it.”The talking was cut short by the voices of the officers ordering the men to be ready for action.The crews of the guns laid hold of the tackles, while the captains stood with the lanyards in their hands, waiting for the word of command, and ready at a moment’s notice to fire.The big ship got nearer and nearer. She could now be seen through the ports on the starboard side.“Well, but she’s a whopper!” exclaimed Ned Green, “though I hope we’ll whop her, notwithstanding. Now, boys, we’ll show the Monsieurs what we can do.”Just then came the word along the decks—“Fire!”And the guns on the starboard side, with a loud roar, sent forth their missiles of death.While the crew were running them in to re-load, the enemy fired in return; their shot came crashing against the sides, some sweeping the upper deck, others making their way through the ports.The smoke from the guns curled round in thick eddies, through which objects could be but dimly seen.The boys looked at each other. All of them were seated on their tubs, but they could see several forms stretched on the deck, some convulsively moving their limbs, others stilled in death.This was likely to be a very different affair from the former action.Having handed out the powder, Jack, Tom, and Bill returned to their places once more.TheFoxhound’sguns again thundered forth, and directly after there came the crashing sound of shot, rending the stout sides of the ship.For several minutes the roar was incessant. Presently a cheer was heard from the deck.One of the Frenchman’s masts had gone over the side; but before many minutes had elapsed, a crashing sound overhead showed that theFoxhoundhad been equally unfortunate.Her foremast had been shot away by the board, carrying with it the bowsprit and maintopmast.She was thus rendered almost unmanageable, but still her brave captain maintained the unequal contest.The guns, as they could be brought to bear, were fired at the enemy with such effect that she was compelled to sheer off to repair damages.On seeing this, the crew of theFoxhoundgave another hearty cheer; but ere the sound had died away, down came the mainmast, followed by the mizenmast, and the frigate lay an almost helpless hulk on the water.Captain Waring at once gave the order to clear the wreck, intending to get up jury-masts, so as to be in a condition to renew the combat should the French ship again attack them.All hands were thus busily employed. The powder in the meantime was returned to the magazine, and the guns run in and secured.The ship was in a critical condition.The carpenters, before anything else could be done, had to stop the shot-holes between wind and water, through which the sea was pouring in several places.It was possible that the prisoners might not resist the temptation, while the crew were engaged, to attempt retaking the ship.The captain and officers redoubled their watchfulness. The crew went steadily about their work, as men who knew that their lives depended on their exertions. Even the stoutest-hearted, however, looked grave.The weather was changing for the worse, and should the wind come from the northward, they would have a hard matter to escape being wrecked, even could they keep the ship afloat.The enemy, too, was near at hand, and might at any moment bear down upon them, and recommence the action.The first lieutenant, as he was coming along the deck, met Bill, who was trying to make himself useful in helping where he was wanted.“Rayner,” said Mr Saltwell, “I want you to keep an eye on the prisoners, and report to the captain or me, should you see anything suspicious in their conduct—if they are talking together, or look as if they were waiting for a signal. I know I can trust you, my boy.”Bill touched his hat.“I will do my best, sir,” he answered; and he slipped down to where the prisoners were congregated.They did not suspect that he had before informed the captain of their intended outbreak, or it would have fared but ill with him.Whatever might have been their intentions, they seemed aware that they were carefully watched, and showed no inclination to create a disturbance.The greatest efforts were now made to set up the jury-masts. The wind was increasing, and the sea rising every minute. The day also was drawing on, and matters were getting worse and worse; still Captain Waring and his staunch crew worked away undaunted. If they could once get up the jury-masts, a course might be steered either for the Isle of Wight or Plymouth. Sails had been got up from below; the masts were ready to raise, when there came a cry of, “The enemy is standing towards us!”“We must beat her off, and then go to work again,” cried the captain.A cheer was the response. The powder-magazine was again opened. The men flew to their guns, and prepared for the expected conflict.The French ship soon began to fire, the English returning their salute with interest. The round shot, as before, whistled across the deck, killing and wounding several of the crew.The sky became still more overcast; the lightning darted from the clouds; the thunder rattled, mocked by the roaring of the guns.Bill saw his shipmates knocked over on every side; but, as soon as one of the crew of a gun was killed, another took his place, or the remainder worked the gun with as much rapidity as before.The cockpit was soon full of wounded men. Though things were as bad as they could be, the captain had resolved not to yield.The officers went about the decks encouraging the crew, assuring them that they would speedily beat off the enemy.Every man, even the idlest, was doing his duty.Jack, Tom, and Bill were doing theirs.Suddenly a cry arose from below of “Fire! fire!” and the next moment thick wreaths of smoke ascended through the hatchways, increasing every instant in density.The firemen were called away. Even at that awful moment the captain and officers maintained their calmness.Now was the time to try what the men were made of. The greater number obeyed the orders they received. Buckets were handed up and filled with water to dash over the seat of the fire. Blankets were saturated and sent down below.The enemy ceased firing, and endeavoured to haul off from the neighbourhood of the ill-fated ship. In spite of all the efforts made, the smoke increased, and flames came rushing up from below. Still, the crew laboured on; hope had not entirely abandoned them, when suddenly a loud roar was heard, the decks were torn up, and hundreds of men in one moment were launched into eternity.Jack, Tom, and Bill had before this made their escape to the upper deck. They had been talking together, wondering what was next to happen, when Bill lost all consciousness; but in a few moments recovering his senses, found himself in the sea, clinging to a piece of wreck.He heard voices, but could see no one. He called to Tom and Jack, fancying that they must be near him, but no answer came.He must have been thrown, he knew, to some distance from the ship, for he could see the burning wreck, and the wind appeared to be driving him farther and farther away from it.The guns as they became heated went off, and he could hear the shot splashing in the water around him.“And Jack and Tom have been lost, poor fellows!” he thought to himself. “I wish they had been sent here. There’s room enough for them on this piece of wreck.“We might have held out till to-morrow morning, when some vessel might have seen us and picked us up.”Curiously enough, he did not think much about himself. Though he was thankful to have been saved, he guessed truly that the greater number of his shipmates, and the unfortunate prisoners on board, must have been lost; yet he regretted Jack and Tom more than all the rest.The flames from the burning ship cast a bright glare far and wide over the ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas.Bill kept gazing towards the ship. He could make out the Frenchman at some distance off, and fancied that he saw boats pulling across the tossing waters.On the other side he could distinguish another vessel, which was also, he hoped, sending her boats to the relief of the sufferers.The whole ship, however, appeared so completely enveloped in fire, the flames bursting out from all the ports and rising through every hatchway, that he could not suppose it possible any had escaped.He found it a hard matter to cling on to the piece of wreck, for the seas were constantly washing over him. Happily it was weighted below, so that it remained tolerably steady. Had it rolled over and over he must inevitably have lost his hold and been drowned.Though he had had very little of what is called enjoyment in life, and his prospects, as far as he could see, were none of the brightest, he still had no wish to die, and the instinct of self-preservation made him cling to the wreck with might and main.The tide, which was setting towards the shore, had got hold of his raft, which was also driven by the wind in the same direction, and he found himself drifting gradually away from the burning ship, and his chance of being picked up by one of the boats diminishing.He remembered that land had been in sight some time before the action, but how far the ship had been from it when she caught fire he could not tell, and when he turned his eyes to the southward he could see nothing of it.Some hours had passed away, so it seemed to him, when, as he turned his eyes towards the ship, the flames appeared to rise up higher than ever. Her stout hull was a mass of fire fore and aft—she was burning down to the water’s edge. Then came the end—the wild waves washed over her, and all was dark.“There goes the old ship,” thought Bill. “I wonder how many on board her a few hours ago are now alive. Shall I reach the shore to-morrow morning? I don’t see much chance of it, and if I don’t, how shall I ever live through another day?”

The Americans had been joined by a number of the Frenchmen, and some few of the worst characters of the English crew—the jail-birds chiefly, who had been won over with the idea that they would sail away to some beautiful island, of which they might take possession; and live in independence, or else rove over the ocean with freedom from all discipline.

They had armed themselves with billets of wood and handspikes; and some had got hold of knives and axes, which they had secreted. They rushed on deck expecting quickly to overpower the watch.

Great was their dismay to find themselves encountered by a strong body of armed men, who seized them, or knocked them down directly they appeared.

So quickly were the first overpowered that they had no time to give the alarm to their confederates below, and thus, as fresh numbers came up, they were treated like the first. In a couple of minutes the whole of the mutineers were overpowered.

The Frenchmen who had not actually joined them cried out for mercy, declaring that they had no intention of doing so.

What might have been the case had the Americans been successful was another matter.

All those who had taken part in the outbreak having been secured, Captain Waring sent a party of marines to search for the American captain. He was quickly found, and brought on the quarter-deck.

“You have broken your word of honour; you have instigated the crew to mutiny, and I should be justified were I to run you up to the yard-arm!” said Captain Waring, sternly.

“You would have done the same,” answered the American captain, boldly. “Such acts when successful have always been applauded.”

“Not, sir, if I had given my word of honour, as you did, not to interfere with the discipline of the ship,” said Captain Waring. “You are now under arrest, and, with those who supported you, will remain in irons till we reach England.”

Captain Gregory had not a word to say for himself. The French captain, far from pleading for him, expressed his satisfaction that he had been so treated.

He and the officers who had joined him were marched off under a guard to have their irons fixed on by the armourer.

After this it became necessary to keep a strict watch on all the prisoners, and especially on the Americans, a large proportion of whom were found to be English seamen, and some of theFoxhound’screw recognised old shipmates among them.

Captain Waring, believing that he could trust to the French captain and his officers, allowed them to remain on their parole, a circumstance which greatly aggravated the feelings of Captain Gregory.

The captain had not forgotten Bill, who, by the timely information he had given, had materially contributed to preserve the ship from capture. Bill himself did not think that he had done anything wonderful; his chief anxiety was lest the fact of his having given the information should become known. The sentinel might guess at it, but otherwise the captain alone could know anything about it. Bill, as soon as he had told his story to the captain, and found that it was credited, stole away forward among the rest of the crew on deck, where he took very good care not to say a word of what had happened; so that not till the trustworthy men received orders to be prepared for an outbreak were they aware of what was likely to occur.

He therefore fancied that his secret had been kept, and that it would never be known; he was, consequently, surprised when the following morning the ship’s corporal, touching his shoulder, told him that the captain wanted to speak to him.

Bill went aft, feeling somewhat alarmed at the thoughts of being spoken to by the captain.

On the previous evening he had been excited by being impressed with the importance of the matter he was about to communicate, but now he had time to wonder what the captain would say to him.

He met Tom and Jack by the way.

“Where are you going?” asked Tom.

Bill told him.

“I shouldn’t wish to be in your shoes,” remarked Tom. “What have you been about?”

Bill could not stop to answer, but followed his conductor to the cabin door.

The sentry, without inquiry, admitted him.

The captain, who was seated at a table in the cabin, near which the first lieutenant was standing, received him with a kind look.

“What is your name, boy?” he asked.

“William Rayner, sir,” said Bill.

“Can you read and write pretty well?”

“No great hand at either, sir,” answered Bill. “Mother taught me when I was a little chap, but I have not had much chance of learning since then.”

“Should you like to improve yourself?” asked the captain.

“Yes, sir; but I have not books, or paper, or pens.”

“We’ll see about that,” said the captain. “The information you gave me last night was of the greatest importance, and I wish to find some means of rewarding you. When we reach England, I will make known your conduct to the proper authorities, and I should like to communicate with your parents.”

“Please, sir, I have no parents; they are both dead, and I have no relations that I know of; but I am much obliged to you, sir,” answered Bill, who kept wondering what the captain was driving at.

“Well, my boy, I will keep an eye on you,” said the captain. “Mr Saltwell, you will see what is best to be done with William Rayner,” he added, turning to the first lieutenant. “If you wish to learn to read and write, you can come and get instruction every day from my clerk, Mr Finch. I will give him directions to teach you; but remember you are not forced to do it.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Bill. “I should like to learn very much.”

After a few more words, the captain dismissed Bill, who felt greatly relieved when the formidable interview was over.

As he wisely kept secret the fact of his having given information of the mutiny, his messmates wondered what could have induced the captain so suddenly to take an interest in him.

Every day he went aft for his lesson, and Mr Finch, who was a good-natured young man, was very kind. Bill, who was remarkably quick, made great progress, and his instructor was much pleased with him.

He could soon read easily, and Mr Finch, by the captain’s orders, lent him several books.

The master’s assistant, calling him one day, told him that he had received orders from the captain to teach him navigation, and, greatly to his surprise, put a quadrant into his hands, and showed him how to use it.

Bill all this time had not an inkling of what the captain intended for him. It never occurred to him that the captain could have perceived any merits or qualifications sufficient to raise him out of his present position, but he was content to do his duty where he was.

Tom felt somewhat jealous of the favour Bill was receiving, though he pretended to pity him for having to go and learn lessons every day. Tom, indeed, knew a good deal more than Bill, as he had been at school, and could read very well, though he could not boast much of his writing.

Jack could neither read nor write, and had no great ambition to learn; but he was glad, as Bill seemed to like it, that he had the chance of picking up knowledge.

“Perhaps the captain intends to make you his clerk, or maybe some day you will become his coxswain,” observed Jack, whose ambition soared no higher. “I should like to be that, but I suppose that it is not necessary to be able to read, or write, or sum. I never could make any hand at those things, but you seem up to them, and so it’s all right that you should learn.”

Notwithstanding the mark of distinction Bill was receiving, the three young messmates remained very good friends.

Bill, however, found himself much better off than he had before been. That the captain patronised him was soon known to all, and few ventured to lay a rope’s-end on his back, as formerly, while he was well treated in other respects.

Bill kept his eyes open and his wits awake on all occasions, and thus rapidly picked up a good knowledge of seamanship, such as few boys of his age who had been so short a time at sea possessed.

TheFoxhoundand her prizes were slowly making their way to England. No enemy appeared to rob her of them, though they were detained by contrary winds for some time in the chops of the Channel.

At length the wind shifted a point or two, and they were able to get some way up it. The weather, however, became cloudy and dark, and no observation could be taken.

It was a trying time, for the provisions and water, in consequence of the number of souls on board, had run short.

The captain was doubly anxious to get into port; still, do all he could, but little progress was made, till one night the wind again shifted and the sky cleared. The master was aware that the ship was farther over to the French coast than was desirable, but her exact position it was difficult to determine.

The first streaks of sunlight had appeared in the eastern sky, when the look-out shouted—

“A ship to the southward, under all sail.”

As the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the stranger, which was now seen clearly, standing towards theFoxhound.

Captain Waring made a signal to the two prizes, which were somewhat to the northward, to make all sail for Plymouth, while theFoxhound, under more moderate canvas, stood off shore.

Should the stranger prove an enemy, of which there was little doubt, Captain Waring determined to try and draw her away from the French coast, which could be dimly seen in the distance. He, at the same time, did not wish to make an enemy suppose that he was flying. Though ready enough to fight, he would rather first have got rid of his prisoners, but that could not now be done.

It was necessary, therefore, to double the sentries over them, and to make them clearly understand that, should any of them attempt in any way to interfere, they would immediately be shot.

Jack, Tom, and Bill had seen the stranger in the distance, and they guessed that they should before long be engaged in a fierce fight with her. There was no doubt that she was French. She was coming up rapidly.

The captain now ordered the ship to be cleared for action. The men went readily to their guns. They did not ask whether a big or small ship was to be their opponent, but stood prepared to fight as long as the captain and officers ordered them, hoping, at all events, to beat the enemy.

The powder-monkeys, as before, having been sent down to bring up the ammunition, took their places on their tubs. Of course they could see but little of what was going forward, but through one of the ports they at last caught sight of the enemy, which appeared to be considerably larger than theFoxhound.

“We have been and caught a Tartar,” Bill heard one of the seamen observe.

“Maybe. But whether Turk or Tartar, we’ll beat him,” answered another.

An order was passed along the decks that not a gun should be fired till the captain gave the word. The boys had not forgotten their fight a few weeks before, and had an idea that this was to turn out something like that. Then the shot of the enemy had passed between the masts and the rigging; but scarcely one had struck the hull, nor had a man been hurt, so they had begun to fancy that fighting was a very bloodless affair.

“What shall we do with the prisoners, if we take her, I wonder?” asked Tom. “We’ve got Monsieurs enough on board already.”

“I daresay the captain will know what to do with them,” responded Bill.

“We must not count our chickens before they’re hatched,” said Jack. “Howsumdever, we’ll do our best.” Jack’s remark, which was heard by some of the crew of the gun near which he was seated, caused a laugh.

“What do you call your best, Jack?” asked Ned Green.

“Sitting on my tub, and handing out the powder as you want it,” answered Jack. “What more would you have me do, I should like to know?”

“Well said, Jack,” observed Green. “We’ll work our guns as fast as we can, and you’ll hand out the powder as we want it.”

The talking was cut short by the voices of the officers ordering the men to be ready for action.

The crews of the guns laid hold of the tackles, while the captains stood with the lanyards in their hands, waiting for the word of command, and ready at a moment’s notice to fire.

The big ship got nearer and nearer. She could now be seen through the ports on the starboard side.

“Well, but she’s a whopper!” exclaimed Ned Green, “though I hope we’ll whop her, notwithstanding. Now, boys, we’ll show the Monsieurs what we can do.”

Just then came the word along the decks—

“Fire!”

And the guns on the starboard side, with a loud roar, sent forth their missiles of death.

While the crew were running them in to re-load, the enemy fired in return; their shot came crashing against the sides, some sweeping the upper deck, others making their way through the ports.

The smoke from the guns curled round in thick eddies, through which objects could be but dimly seen.

The boys looked at each other. All of them were seated on their tubs, but they could see several forms stretched on the deck, some convulsively moving their limbs, others stilled in death.

This was likely to be a very different affair from the former action.

Having handed out the powder, Jack, Tom, and Bill returned to their places once more.

TheFoxhound’sguns again thundered forth, and directly after there came the crashing sound of shot, rending the stout sides of the ship.

For several minutes the roar was incessant. Presently a cheer was heard from the deck.

One of the Frenchman’s masts had gone over the side; but before many minutes had elapsed, a crashing sound overhead showed that theFoxhoundhad been equally unfortunate.

Her foremast had been shot away by the board, carrying with it the bowsprit and maintopmast.

She was thus rendered almost unmanageable, but still her brave captain maintained the unequal contest.

The guns, as they could be brought to bear, were fired at the enemy with such effect that she was compelled to sheer off to repair damages.

On seeing this, the crew of theFoxhoundgave another hearty cheer; but ere the sound had died away, down came the mainmast, followed by the mizenmast, and the frigate lay an almost helpless hulk on the water.

Captain Waring at once gave the order to clear the wreck, intending to get up jury-masts, so as to be in a condition to renew the combat should the French ship again attack them.

All hands were thus busily employed. The powder in the meantime was returned to the magazine, and the guns run in and secured.

The ship was in a critical condition.

The carpenters, before anything else could be done, had to stop the shot-holes between wind and water, through which the sea was pouring in several places.

It was possible that the prisoners might not resist the temptation, while the crew were engaged, to attempt retaking the ship.

The captain and officers redoubled their watchfulness. The crew went steadily about their work, as men who knew that their lives depended on their exertions. Even the stoutest-hearted, however, looked grave.

The weather was changing for the worse, and should the wind come from the northward, they would have a hard matter to escape being wrecked, even could they keep the ship afloat.

The enemy, too, was near at hand, and might at any moment bear down upon them, and recommence the action.

The first lieutenant, as he was coming along the deck, met Bill, who was trying to make himself useful in helping where he was wanted.

“Rayner,” said Mr Saltwell, “I want you to keep an eye on the prisoners, and report to the captain or me, should you see anything suspicious in their conduct—if they are talking together, or look as if they were waiting for a signal. I know I can trust you, my boy.”

Bill touched his hat.

“I will do my best, sir,” he answered; and he slipped down to where the prisoners were congregated.

They did not suspect that he had before informed the captain of their intended outbreak, or it would have fared but ill with him.

Whatever might have been their intentions, they seemed aware that they were carefully watched, and showed no inclination to create a disturbance.

The greatest efforts were now made to set up the jury-masts. The wind was increasing, and the sea rising every minute. The day also was drawing on, and matters were getting worse and worse; still Captain Waring and his staunch crew worked away undaunted. If they could once get up the jury-masts, a course might be steered either for the Isle of Wight or Plymouth. Sails had been got up from below; the masts were ready to raise, when there came a cry of, “The enemy is standing towards us!”

“We must beat her off, and then go to work again,” cried the captain.

A cheer was the response. The powder-magazine was again opened. The men flew to their guns, and prepared for the expected conflict.

The French ship soon began to fire, the English returning their salute with interest. The round shot, as before, whistled across the deck, killing and wounding several of the crew.

The sky became still more overcast; the lightning darted from the clouds; the thunder rattled, mocked by the roaring of the guns.

Bill saw his shipmates knocked over on every side; but, as soon as one of the crew of a gun was killed, another took his place, or the remainder worked the gun with as much rapidity as before.

The cockpit was soon full of wounded men. Though things were as bad as they could be, the captain had resolved not to yield.

The officers went about the decks encouraging the crew, assuring them that they would speedily beat off the enemy.

Every man, even the idlest, was doing his duty.

Jack, Tom, and Bill were doing theirs.

Suddenly a cry arose from below of “Fire! fire!” and the next moment thick wreaths of smoke ascended through the hatchways, increasing every instant in density.

The firemen were called away. Even at that awful moment the captain and officers maintained their calmness.

Now was the time to try what the men were made of. The greater number obeyed the orders they received. Buckets were handed up and filled with water to dash over the seat of the fire. Blankets were saturated and sent down below.

The enemy ceased firing, and endeavoured to haul off from the neighbourhood of the ill-fated ship. In spite of all the efforts made, the smoke increased, and flames came rushing up from below. Still, the crew laboured on; hope had not entirely abandoned them, when suddenly a loud roar was heard, the decks were torn up, and hundreds of men in one moment were launched into eternity.

Jack, Tom, and Bill had before this made their escape to the upper deck. They had been talking together, wondering what was next to happen, when Bill lost all consciousness; but in a few moments recovering his senses, found himself in the sea, clinging to a piece of wreck.

He heard voices, but could see no one. He called to Tom and Jack, fancying that they must be near him, but no answer came.

He must have been thrown, he knew, to some distance from the ship, for he could see the burning wreck, and the wind appeared to be driving him farther and farther away from it.

The guns as they became heated went off, and he could hear the shot splashing in the water around him.

“And Jack and Tom have been lost, poor fellows!” he thought to himself. “I wish they had been sent here. There’s room enough for them on this piece of wreck.

“We might have held out till to-morrow morning, when some vessel might have seen us and picked us up.”

Curiously enough, he did not think much about himself. Though he was thankful to have been saved, he guessed truly that the greater number of his shipmates, and the unfortunate prisoners on board, must have been lost; yet he regretted Jack and Tom more than all the rest.

The flames from the burning ship cast a bright glare far and wide over the ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas.

Bill kept gazing towards the ship. He could make out the Frenchman at some distance off, and fancied that he saw boats pulling across the tossing waters.

On the other side he could distinguish another vessel, which was also, he hoped, sending her boats to the relief of the sufferers.

The whole ship, however, appeared so completely enveloped in fire, the flames bursting out from all the ports and rising through every hatchway, that he could not suppose it possible any had escaped.

He found it a hard matter to cling on to the piece of wreck, for the seas were constantly washing over him. Happily it was weighted below, so that it remained tolerably steady. Had it rolled over and over he must inevitably have lost his hold and been drowned.

Though he had had very little of what is called enjoyment in life, and his prospects, as far as he could see, were none of the brightest, he still had no wish to die, and the instinct of self-preservation made him cling to the wreck with might and main.

The tide, which was setting towards the shore, had got hold of his raft, which was also driven by the wind in the same direction, and he found himself drifting gradually away from the burning ship, and his chance of being picked up by one of the boats diminishing.

He remembered that land had been in sight some time before the action, but how far the ship had been from it when she caught fire he could not tell, and when he turned his eyes to the southward he could see nothing of it.

Some hours had passed away, so it seemed to him, when, as he turned his eyes towards the ship, the flames appeared to rise up higher than ever. Her stout hull was a mass of fire fore and aft—she was burning down to the water’s edge. Then came the end—the wild waves washed over her, and all was dark.

“There goes the old ship,” thought Bill. “I wonder how many on board her a few hours ago are now alive. Shall I reach the shore to-morrow morning? I don’t see much chance of it, and if I don’t, how shall I ever live through another day?”

Chapter Five.Picked up by a fishing-vessel.After a time, Bill began to feel very hungry, and then he recollected that at dinner he had clapped a biscuit into his pocket. He felt for it. It was soaked through and through, and nearly turned into paste, but it served to stay his appetite, and to keep up his strength. At length he became somewhat drowsy, but he did his best to keep awake. Feeling about, he got hold of a piece of rope, with which he managed to secure himself to the raft. Had he found it before, it would have saved him much exertion.The feeling that there was now less risk of being washed away, made him not so anxious as at first to withstand the strong desire which had attacked him, and yielding to it, his eyes closed, and he dropped off to sleep.How long he had been in that state he could not tell, when he was aroused by the sound of human voices. Opening his eyes, he found that the sun was shining down upon him, and looking round, he saw a small vessel approaching. He soon made her out to be a fishing craft with five people on board.They hailed him, but he was too weak to answer. He managed, however, to wave one of his hands to show that he was alive.The fishing-vessel came on, and hove-to close to him. The sea had considerably gone down. A boat was launched from her deck, and pulled up to the raft, with two men in her.They said something, but Bill could not understand them. One of them, as they got up alongside, sprang on to the raft, and casting off the lashings which held Bill to it, the next instant was safe in the boat with him in his arms.The man having placed him in the stern-sheets, the boat quickly returned to the cutter.Bill was lifted on board, and the boat was then hauled up again on the cutter’s deck. His preservers, though rough-looking men, uttered exclamations in kind tones which assured Bill that he had fallen into good hands. One of them then carried him down into the little cabin, and stripping off his wet clothes, placed him between the blankets in a berth on one side.In a few minutes the same man, who appeared to be the captain of the fishing-vessel, returned with a cup of hot coffee and some white bread. Stirring the coffee and blowing to cool it, he made signs to Bill that he must drink some of it.This Bill very gladly did, and he then felt able to eat some of the bread, which seemed very sweet and nice. This greatly restored his strength.He wished, however, that he could answer the questions which the men put to him. He guessed that they were Frenchmen, but not a word of French did he know.At last another man came into the cabin.“You English boy?” asked the man.“Yes,” said Bill.“Ship burn; blow up?” was the next question put to Bill, the speaker showing what he meant by suitable action.“Yes,” said Bill, “and I am afraid all my shipmates are lost. Though you are French, you won’t send me to prison, I hope?”“Have no fear,” answered the man, smiling; and turning round to his companions, he explained what Bill had said. They smiled, and Bill heard them say, “Pauvre garçon.”“No! no! no! You sleep now, we take care of you,” said the interpreter, whose knowledge of English was, however, somewhat limited.Bill felt a strong inclination to follow the advice given him. One of the men, bundling up his wet clothes, carried them to dry at the little galley fire forward. The rest went on deck, and Bill in another minute fell fast asleep. Where the cutter was going Bill could not tell. He had known her to be a fishing-vessel by seeing the nets on deck, and he had guessed that she was French by the way in which the people on board had spoken. They had given evidence also that they intended to treat him kindly.Some hours must have passed away when Bill again awoke, feeling very hungry. It was daylight, and he saw that his clothes were laid at the foot of his berth.Finding that his strength had returned, he got up, and began dressing himself. He had just finished when he saw that there was some one in the opposite berth. “Perhaps the skipper was up all night, and has turned in,” thought Bill; but as he looked again, he saw that the head was certainly not that of a man, but the face was turned away from him.His intention was to go on deck, to try and thank the French fishermen, as far as he was able, for saving his life, but before he did so curiosity prompted him to look again into the berth.What was his surprise and joy to recognise the features of his shipmate, Jack Peek! His face was very pale, but he was breathing, which showed that he was alive. At all events, Bill thought that he would not awake him, eager as he was to know how he had been saved.He went up on deck, hoping that the man who had spoken a few words of English might be able to tell him how Jack had been picked up. On reaching the deck he found that the vessel was close in with the land. She was towing a shattered gig, which Bill recognised as one of those belonging to theFoxhound. He at once conjectured that Jack had managed somehow or other to get into her.As soon as he appeared, the Frenchmen began talking to him, forgetting that he was unable to understand them. As he made no reply, they recollected themselves, and began laughing at their own stupidity.One of them shouted down the fore-hatchway, and presently the interpreter, as Bill called him, made his appearance.“Glad see you. All right now?” he said, in a tone of interrogation.“All right,” said Bill, “but I want you to tell me how you happened to find my shipmate Jack Peek;” and Bill pointed down into the cabin.“He, friend! not broder! no! We find him in boat, but he not say how he got dere. Two oder men, but dey dead, so we heave dem overboard, and take boat in tow,” answered the man.Jack himself was probably not likely to be able to give any more information than the Frenchman had done. Suddenly it struck his new friends that Bill might be hungry, and the interpreter said to him, “You want manger,” pointing to Bill’s mouth.Bill understood him. “Yes, indeed I do; I am ready for anything you can give me,” he said.The fire was lighted, while a pot was put to boil on it, and, greatly to Bill’s satisfaction, in a few minutes one of the men, who acted as cook, poured the contents into a huge basin which was placed on the deck, and smaller basins and wooden spoons were handed up from below.One man remaining at the helm, the remainder sat down and ladled the soup into the smaller basins.Bill eagerly held out his.The mess, which consisted of fowl and pork and a variety of vegetables, smelt very tempting, and as soon as it was cool enough, Bill devoured it with a good appetite.His friends asked him by signs if he would have any more.“Thank you,” he answered, holding out his basin. “A spoonful or two; but we must not forget Jack Peek. When he awakes, he will be glad of some;” and he pointed into the cabin.The Frenchmen understood him, and made signs that they would keep some for his friend, one of them patting him on the back and calling him “Bon garçon.”Bill, after remaining some time on deck, again felt sleepy, and his head began to nod.The Frenchmen, seeing this, told him to go below. He gladly followed their advice, and descending into the cabin, lay down, and was once more fast asleep.The next time he awoke he found that the vessel was at anchor. He got up, and looked into Jack’s berth. Jack at that moment turned round, and opening his eyes, saw his shipmate.“Why, Bill, is it you!” he exclaimed. “I am main glad to see you; but where are we?—how did I come here? I thought that I was in the captain’s gig with Tom Nokes and Dick Harbour. What has become of them? They were terribly hurt, poor fellows! though they managed to crawl on board the gig.”Bill told him what he had learned from the Frenchman.“They seem kind sort of fellows, and we have fallen into good hands,” he added; “but what they’re going to do with us is more than I can tell.”Just then the captain of the fishing-vessel came below, and seeing that Jack was awake, he called out to one of the men to bring a basin of the soup which had been kept for him.While he was swallowing it, a man brought him his clothes, which had been sent forward to dry. The captain then made signs to him to dress, as he intended taking them both on shore with him.Bill helped Jack, who was somewhat weak, to get on his clothes. They then went on deck.The vessel lay in a small harbour, protected by a reef of rocks from the sea. Near the shore were a number of cottages, and on one side of the harbour a line of cliffs running away to the eastward.Several other small vessels and open boats lay at anchor around.The captain, with the interpreter, whose name they found was Pierre, got into the boat, the latter telling the lads to come with them.They did as they were directed, sitting down in the stern-sheets, while the captain and Pierre took the oars and pulled towards the shore.It was now evening, and almost dark. They saw the lights shining in the windows of several of the cottages.Pierre was a young man about nineteen or twenty, and, they fancied, must be the captain’s son. They were right, they found, in their conjectures.Pierre made them understand, in his broken language, that he had some short time before been a prisoner in England, where he had been treated very kindly; but before he had time to learn much English, he had been exchanged.This had made him anxious to show kindness to the young English lads.“Come along,” said Pierre, as they reached the shore. “I show you my house, my mère, and my soeur. They take care of you; but mind! you not go out till dey tell you, or de gendarmes take you to prison perhaps. Do not speak now till we get into de house.”Bill and Jack followed their guide while the old man rowed back to the vessel.Pierre led them to a cottage a little distance from the shore, which appeared to be somewhat larger than those they had passed. He opened the door, telling them to come in with him, when he immediately again closed it.A middle-aged woman and a young girl, in high white caps with flaps over the shoulders, were seated spinning. They started up on seeing the two young strangers, and began inquiring of Pierre who they were. His explanation soon satisfied them, and jumping up, Madame Turgot and Jeannette took their hands, and began pouring out in voluble language their welcomes.“You say ‘Merci! merci!’” said Pierre, “which means ‘Thank you! thank you!’”“Merci! merci!” said Jack and Bill.It was the first word of French they learned, and, as Jack observed, came in very convenient.What the mother and her daughter said they could not make out, but they understood well enough that the French women intended to be kind.“You hungry?” asked Pierre.“Very,” answered Jack.Pierre said something to his mother and sister, who at once set about spreading a cloth and placing eatables on the table—bread and cheese, and pickled fish, and some salad.“Merci! merci!” said Jack and Bill, as their hostess made signs to them to fall to. Pierre joined them, and in a short time Captain Turgot himself came in. He was as hospitably inclined as his wife and daughter, and kept pressing the food upon the boys.“Merci! merci!” was their answer.At last Jeannette began to laugh, as if she thought it a good joke.Jack and Bill tried hard to understand what was said. Pierre observed them listening, and did his best to explain.From him they learned that they must remain quiet in the house, or they might be carried away as prisoners of war. He and his father wished to save them from this, and intended, if they had the opportunity, enabling them to get back to England.“But how will you manage that?” asked Bill.Pierre looked very knowing, and gave them to understand that smuggling vessels occasionally came into the harbour, and that they might easily get on board one of them, and reach the English coast.“But we do not wish to get rid of you,” said Pierre. “If you like to remain with us, you shall learn French, and become French boys; and you can then go out and help us fish, and gain your livelihood.”Pierre did not say this in as many words, but Jack and Bill agreed that such was his meaning.“He’s very kind,” observed Bill; “but for my part, I should not wish to become a French boy; though I would not mind remaining for a while with the French dame and her daughter, for they’re both very kind, and we shall have a happy time of it.”This was said a day or two after their arrival.Captain Turgot had fitted them up a couple of bunks in a small room in which Pierre slept, and they were both far more comfortable than they had ever been in their lives.Captain Turgot’s cottage was far superior to that of Jack’s father; and as for Bill, he had never before slept in so soft a bed. They had to remain in the house, however, all day; but Captain Turgot or Pierre took them out in the evening, when they could not be observed, to stretch their legs and get a little fresh air.They tried to make themselves useful by helping Madame Turgot, and they rapidly picked up from her and her daughter a good amount of French, so that in a short time they were able to converse, though in a curious fashion, it must be owned.They soon got over their bashfulness, and asked the name of everything they saw, which Jeannette was always ready to tell them. Their attempts at talking French afforded her vast amusement.Though kindly treated, they at length got tired of being shut up in the house, and were very well pleased when one day Captain Turgot brought them each a suit of clothes, and told them that he was going away to fish, and would take them with him.Next morning they went on board the cutter, and sail being soon afterwards made, she stood out of the harbour.

After a time, Bill began to feel very hungry, and then he recollected that at dinner he had clapped a biscuit into his pocket. He felt for it. It was soaked through and through, and nearly turned into paste, but it served to stay his appetite, and to keep up his strength. At length he became somewhat drowsy, but he did his best to keep awake. Feeling about, he got hold of a piece of rope, with which he managed to secure himself to the raft. Had he found it before, it would have saved him much exertion.

The feeling that there was now less risk of being washed away, made him not so anxious as at first to withstand the strong desire which had attacked him, and yielding to it, his eyes closed, and he dropped off to sleep.

How long he had been in that state he could not tell, when he was aroused by the sound of human voices. Opening his eyes, he found that the sun was shining down upon him, and looking round, he saw a small vessel approaching. He soon made her out to be a fishing craft with five people on board.

They hailed him, but he was too weak to answer. He managed, however, to wave one of his hands to show that he was alive.

The fishing-vessel came on, and hove-to close to him. The sea had considerably gone down. A boat was launched from her deck, and pulled up to the raft, with two men in her.

They said something, but Bill could not understand them. One of them, as they got up alongside, sprang on to the raft, and casting off the lashings which held Bill to it, the next instant was safe in the boat with him in his arms.

The man having placed him in the stern-sheets, the boat quickly returned to the cutter.

Bill was lifted on board, and the boat was then hauled up again on the cutter’s deck. His preservers, though rough-looking men, uttered exclamations in kind tones which assured Bill that he had fallen into good hands. One of them then carried him down into the little cabin, and stripping off his wet clothes, placed him between the blankets in a berth on one side.

In a few minutes the same man, who appeared to be the captain of the fishing-vessel, returned with a cup of hot coffee and some white bread. Stirring the coffee and blowing to cool it, he made signs to Bill that he must drink some of it.

This Bill very gladly did, and he then felt able to eat some of the bread, which seemed very sweet and nice. This greatly restored his strength.

He wished, however, that he could answer the questions which the men put to him. He guessed that they were Frenchmen, but not a word of French did he know.

At last another man came into the cabin.

“You English boy?” asked the man.

“Yes,” said Bill.

“Ship burn; blow up?” was the next question put to Bill, the speaker showing what he meant by suitable action.

“Yes,” said Bill, “and I am afraid all my shipmates are lost. Though you are French, you won’t send me to prison, I hope?”

“Have no fear,” answered the man, smiling; and turning round to his companions, he explained what Bill had said. They smiled, and Bill heard them say, “Pauvre garçon.”

“No! no! no! You sleep now, we take care of you,” said the interpreter, whose knowledge of English was, however, somewhat limited.

Bill felt a strong inclination to follow the advice given him. One of the men, bundling up his wet clothes, carried them to dry at the little galley fire forward. The rest went on deck, and Bill in another minute fell fast asleep. Where the cutter was going Bill could not tell. He had known her to be a fishing-vessel by seeing the nets on deck, and he had guessed that she was French by the way in which the people on board had spoken. They had given evidence also that they intended to treat him kindly.

Some hours must have passed away when Bill again awoke, feeling very hungry. It was daylight, and he saw that his clothes were laid at the foot of his berth.

Finding that his strength had returned, he got up, and began dressing himself. He had just finished when he saw that there was some one in the opposite berth. “Perhaps the skipper was up all night, and has turned in,” thought Bill; but as he looked again, he saw that the head was certainly not that of a man, but the face was turned away from him.

His intention was to go on deck, to try and thank the French fishermen, as far as he was able, for saving his life, but before he did so curiosity prompted him to look again into the berth.

What was his surprise and joy to recognise the features of his shipmate, Jack Peek! His face was very pale, but he was breathing, which showed that he was alive. At all events, Bill thought that he would not awake him, eager as he was to know how he had been saved.

He went up on deck, hoping that the man who had spoken a few words of English might be able to tell him how Jack had been picked up. On reaching the deck he found that the vessel was close in with the land. She was towing a shattered gig, which Bill recognised as one of those belonging to theFoxhound. He at once conjectured that Jack had managed somehow or other to get into her.

As soon as he appeared, the Frenchmen began talking to him, forgetting that he was unable to understand them. As he made no reply, they recollected themselves, and began laughing at their own stupidity.

One of them shouted down the fore-hatchway, and presently the interpreter, as Bill called him, made his appearance.

“Glad see you. All right now?” he said, in a tone of interrogation.

“All right,” said Bill, “but I want you to tell me how you happened to find my shipmate Jack Peek;” and Bill pointed down into the cabin.

“He, friend! not broder! no! We find him in boat, but he not say how he got dere. Two oder men, but dey dead, so we heave dem overboard, and take boat in tow,” answered the man.

Jack himself was probably not likely to be able to give any more information than the Frenchman had done. Suddenly it struck his new friends that Bill might be hungry, and the interpreter said to him, “You want manger,” pointing to Bill’s mouth.

Bill understood him. “Yes, indeed I do; I am ready for anything you can give me,” he said.

The fire was lighted, while a pot was put to boil on it, and, greatly to Bill’s satisfaction, in a few minutes one of the men, who acted as cook, poured the contents into a huge basin which was placed on the deck, and smaller basins and wooden spoons were handed up from below.

One man remaining at the helm, the remainder sat down and ladled the soup into the smaller basins.

Bill eagerly held out his.

The mess, which consisted of fowl and pork and a variety of vegetables, smelt very tempting, and as soon as it was cool enough, Bill devoured it with a good appetite.

His friends asked him by signs if he would have any more.

“Thank you,” he answered, holding out his basin. “A spoonful or two; but we must not forget Jack Peek. When he awakes, he will be glad of some;” and he pointed into the cabin.

The Frenchmen understood him, and made signs that they would keep some for his friend, one of them patting him on the back and calling him “Bon garçon.”

Bill, after remaining some time on deck, again felt sleepy, and his head began to nod.

The Frenchmen, seeing this, told him to go below. He gladly followed their advice, and descending into the cabin, lay down, and was once more fast asleep.

The next time he awoke he found that the vessel was at anchor. He got up, and looked into Jack’s berth. Jack at that moment turned round, and opening his eyes, saw his shipmate.

“Why, Bill, is it you!” he exclaimed. “I am main glad to see you; but where are we?—how did I come here? I thought that I was in the captain’s gig with Tom Nokes and Dick Harbour. What has become of them? They were terribly hurt, poor fellows! though they managed to crawl on board the gig.”

Bill told him what he had learned from the Frenchman.

“They seem kind sort of fellows, and we have fallen into good hands,” he added; “but what they’re going to do with us is more than I can tell.”

Just then the captain of the fishing-vessel came below, and seeing that Jack was awake, he called out to one of the men to bring a basin of the soup which had been kept for him.

While he was swallowing it, a man brought him his clothes, which had been sent forward to dry. The captain then made signs to him to dress, as he intended taking them both on shore with him.

Bill helped Jack, who was somewhat weak, to get on his clothes. They then went on deck.

The vessel lay in a small harbour, protected by a reef of rocks from the sea. Near the shore were a number of cottages, and on one side of the harbour a line of cliffs running away to the eastward.

Several other small vessels and open boats lay at anchor around.

The captain, with the interpreter, whose name they found was Pierre, got into the boat, the latter telling the lads to come with them.

They did as they were directed, sitting down in the stern-sheets, while the captain and Pierre took the oars and pulled towards the shore.

It was now evening, and almost dark. They saw the lights shining in the windows of several of the cottages.

Pierre was a young man about nineteen or twenty, and, they fancied, must be the captain’s son. They were right, they found, in their conjectures.

Pierre made them understand, in his broken language, that he had some short time before been a prisoner in England, where he had been treated very kindly; but before he had time to learn much English, he had been exchanged.

This had made him anxious to show kindness to the young English lads.

“Come along,” said Pierre, as they reached the shore. “I show you my house, my mère, and my soeur. They take care of you; but mind! you not go out till dey tell you, or de gendarmes take you to prison perhaps. Do not speak now till we get into de house.”

Bill and Jack followed their guide while the old man rowed back to the vessel.

Pierre led them to a cottage a little distance from the shore, which appeared to be somewhat larger than those they had passed. He opened the door, telling them to come in with him, when he immediately again closed it.

A middle-aged woman and a young girl, in high white caps with flaps over the shoulders, were seated spinning. They started up on seeing the two young strangers, and began inquiring of Pierre who they were. His explanation soon satisfied them, and jumping up, Madame Turgot and Jeannette took their hands, and began pouring out in voluble language their welcomes.

“You say ‘Merci! merci!’” said Pierre, “which means ‘Thank you! thank you!’”

“Merci! merci!” said Jack and Bill.

It was the first word of French they learned, and, as Jack observed, came in very convenient.

What the mother and her daughter said they could not make out, but they understood well enough that the French women intended to be kind.

“You hungry?” asked Pierre.

“Very,” answered Jack.

Pierre said something to his mother and sister, who at once set about spreading a cloth and placing eatables on the table—bread and cheese, and pickled fish, and some salad.

“Merci! merci!” said Jack and Bill, as their hostess made signs to them to fall to. Pierre joined them, and in a short time Captain Turgot himself came in. He was as hospitably inclined as his wife and daughter, and kept pressing the food upon the boys.

“Merci! merci!” was their answer.

At last Jeannette began to laugh, as if she thought it a good joke.

Jack and Bill tried hard to understand what was said. Pierre observed them listening, and did his best to explain.

From him they learned that they must remain quiet in the house, or they might be carried away as prisoners of war. He and his father wished to save them from this, and intended, if they had the opportunity, enabling them to get back to England.

“But how will you manage that?” asked Bill.

Pierre looked very knowing, and gave them to understand that smuggling vessels occasionally came into the harbour, and that they might easily get on board one of them, and reach the English coast.

“But we do not wish to get rid of you,” said Pierre. “If you like to remain with us, you shall learn French, and become French boys; and you can then go out and help us fish, and gain your livelihood.”

Pierre did not say this in as many words, but Jack and Bill agreed that such was his meaning.

“He’s very kind,” observed Bill; “but for my part, I should not wish to become a French boy; though I would not mind remaining for a while with the French dame and her daughter, for they’re both very kind, and we shall have a happy time of it.”

This was said a day or two after their arrival.

Captain Turgot had fitted them up a couple of bunks in a small room in which Pierre slept, and they were both far more comfortable than they had ever been in their lives.

Captain Turgot’s cottage was far superior to that of Jack’s father; and as for Bill, he had never before slept in so soft a bed. They had to remain in the house, however, all day; but Captain Turgot or Pierre took them out in the evening, when they could not be observed, to stretch their legs and get a little fresh air.

They tried to make themselves useful by helping Madame Turgot, and they rapidly picked up from her and her daughter a good amount of French, so that in a short time they were able to converse, though in a curious fashion, it must be owned.

They soon got over their bashfulness, and asked the name of everything they saw, which Jeannette was always ready to tell them. Their attempts at talking French afforded her vast amusement.

Though kindly treated, they at length got tired of being shut up in the house, and were very well pleased when one day Captain Turgot brought them each a suit of clothes, and told them that he was going away to fish, and would take them with him.

Next morning they went on board the cutter, and sail being soon afterwards made, she stood out of the harbour.

Chapter Six.Taken prisoners.Jack and Bill made themselves very useful in hauling the nets, and cleaning the fish when caught. Jack was well up to the work, and showed Bill how to do it. Captain Turgot was highly pleased, and called them “bons garçons,” and said he hoped that they would remain with him till the war was over, and as much longer as they liked. When the cutter returned into the harbour to land her fish, Jack and Bill were sent below, so that the authorities might not see them and carry them off. Captain Turgot was much afraid of losing them. They were getting on famously with their French, and Bill could chatter away already at a great rate, though not in very good French, to be sure, for he made a number of blunders, which afforded constant amusement to his companions, but Pierre was always ready to set him right.Jack made much slower progress. He could not, he said, twist his tongue about sufficiently to get out the words, even when he remembered them. Some, he found, were wonderfully like English, and those he recollected the best, though, to be sure, they had different meanings. One day the cutter had stood out farther from the shore than usual, her nets being down, when, at daybreak, a strange sail was seen in the offing. The captain, after taking one look at her, was convinced that she was an enemy.“Quick! quick! my sons,” he shouted: “we must haul the nets and make sail, or we shall be caught by the English. They are brave people, but I have no wish to see the inside of one of their prisons.”All hands worked away as if their lives depended on their exertions. Jack and Bill lent a hand as usual. They scarcely knew what to wish. Should the stranger prove to be an English ship, and come up with them, they would be restored to liberty; but, at the same time, they would feel very sorry that their kind friends should lose their vessel and be made prisoners; still, Jack wanted to let his mother know that he was alive, and Bill wished to be on board a man-of-war again, fighting for Old England, and getting a foot or two up the ratlines.His ambition had been aroused by what the captain had said to him, and the assistant master had observed, though he had spoken in joke, that he might, some day or other, become an admiral.Bill had thought the subject over and over, till he began to fancy that, could he get another chance, the road to fame might be open to him. The loss of the ship with the captain and officers seemed, to be sure, to have overthrown all his hopes; but what had happened once might happen again, and by attending to his duty, and keeping his eyes open, and his wits awake, he might have another opportunity of distinguishing himself.No one could possibly have suspected what was passing in Bill’s mind, as he worked away as energetically as the rest in stowing the nets and making sail.The stranger was now made out to a certainty to be an English frigate, and a fast one, too, by the way she slipped through the water.The wind was from the south-east, and being thus partially off shore, would enable the frigate to stand in closer to the land than she otherwise might have ventured to do. This greatly diminished the chances of the cutter’s escape.Captain Turgot, however, like a brave man, did not tear his hair, or stamp, or swear, as Frenchmen are sometimes supposed to do, but, taking the helm, set every sail his craft could carry, and did his best, by careful steering, to keep to windward of the enemy.Could he once get into harbour he would be safe, unless the frigate should send her boats in to cut his vessel out. The cutter possessed a couple of long sweeps. Should it fall calm, they would be of use; but at present the breeze was too strong to render them necessary.The crew kept looking astern to watch the progress made by their pursuer, which was evidently coming up with them. What chance, indeed, had a little fishing craft with a dashing frigate?An idea occurred to Jack which had not struck Bill.“Suppose we are taken—and it looks to me as if we shall be before long—what will they say on board the frigate when they find us rigged out in fisherman’s clothes? They will be thinking we are deserters, and will be hanging us up at the yard-arm.”“I hope it won’t go so hard as that with us,” answered Bill. “We can tell them that the Frenchmen took away our clothes, and rigged us out in these, and we could not help ourselves.”“But will they believe us?” asked Jack.On that point Bill acknowledged that there was some doubt; either way, he would be very sorry for Captain Turgot. One thing could be said, that neither their fears nor wishes would prevent the frigate from capturing the cutter. They looked upon that as a settled matter. As long, however, as there was a possibility of escaping, Captain Turgot resolved to persevere.Matters began to look serious, when a flash and wreath of smoke was seen to issue from one of the bow guns of the frigate, and a shot came jumping over the water towards them. It did not reach them, however.“You must get nearer, monsieur, before you hurt us,” said the captain, as he watched the shot fall into the water.Shortly afterwards another followed. It came close up to the cutter; but a miss is as good as a mile, and the little vessel was none the worse for it.Another shot, however, might produce a very different result.“I say, Bill, I don’t quite like the look of things,” observed Jack. “Our skipper had better give in, or one of those shot will be coming aboard us, and carrying somebody’s head off.”“He doesn’t look as if he had any thoughts of the sort,” said Bill; “and as long as there is any chance of keeping ahead, he’ll stand on.”Soon after Bill had made this remark, another shot was fired from the frigate, and passed alongside the cutter, falling some way ahead.Had it been better aimed, the effect might have been somewhat disastrous. Still Captain Turgot kept at the helm.Some of the crew, however, began to cry out, and begged him to heave to. He pointed to the shore.“Do you want to see your wives and families again?” he asked. “Look there! How smooth the water is ahead. The wind is falling, and the frigate will soon be becalmed. She’ll not think it worth while to send her boats after us. Come! out with the sweeps, and we shall soon draw out of shot of her. Look there! now her topsails are already flapping against the masts. Be of good courage, my sons!”Thus incited, the crew got out the sweeps.Jack and Bill helped them with as much apparent good-will as if they had had no wish to be on board the frigate.The little vessel felt the effects of the powerful sweeps, and, in spite of the calm, continued to move ahead.Again and again the frigate fired at her, but she was a small object, and each shot missed.This encouraged the French crew, whose spirits rose as they saw their chance of escaping increase.Farther and farther they got from the frigate, which, with the uncertainty from what quarter the wind would next blow, was afraid of standing closer in shore.By nightfall the cutter, by dint of hard rowing, had got safe into harbour.When Dame Turgot and Jeannette heard what had occurred, they expressed their delight at seeing their young friends back.“We must not let you go to sea again, for it would be a sad thing to hear that you had been captured and shot for being deserters,” said Jeannette.She had the same idea which had occurred to Jack.The English frigates were at this time so frequently seen off the coast, that Captain Turgot, who had several boats as well as the cutter, thought it prudent to confine his operations to inshore fishing, so as not to run the risk of being captured.Jack and Bill sometimes went out with him, but, for some reason or other, he more generally left them at home.Pierre, who was a good swimmer, induced them to come down and bathe with him in the morning, and gave them instruction in the art.Jack could already swim a little. Bill took to it at once, and beat him hollow; in a short time being able to perform all sorts of evolutions. He was soon so perfectly at home in the water, that he declared he felt able to swim across the Channel, if he could carry some food with him to support himself on the way.Jack laughed at the idea, observing that “nobody ever had swum across the Channel, and he did not believe that anybody ever would do so.”Pierre advised Bill not to make the attempt.“No fear,” said Jack. “He’ll not go without me, and I am not going to drown myself if I can help it.”Bill, however, often thought over the matter, and tried to devise some plan by which he and Jack might manage to get across. His plans came to nothing; and, indeed, the Channel where they were was much too wide to be crossed except in a small vessel or in a large boat. Jack was beginning to speak French pretty well, and Bill was able to gabble away with considerable fluency, greatly to the delight of Jeannette, who was his usual instructress. He tried to teach her a little English in return, but she laughed at her own attempts, and declared that she should never be able to pronounce so break-jaw a language.Bill thought that she got on very well, but she seemed more anxious to teach him French than to learn English herself.Several weeks more passed by. Well treated as they were, still the boys had a longing to return to England, though the opportunity of doing so appeared as far off as ever.They were in the house one afternoon, laughing and joking merrily with Jeannette, while Dame Turgot was away at the neighbouring town to market, when the door opened, and she entered, with a look of alarm on her countenance.“Quick, quick, come here!” she said; and seizing them both by the arms, she dragged them into the little inner room.“Pull off your clothes and jump into bed!” she exclaimed. “Whatever you hear, don’t move or speak, but pretend to be fast asleep.”They obeyed her; and snatching up their jackets and trousers, she hurried from the room, locking the door behind her.She had just time to tumble their clothes into a chest, when a loud knocking was heard at the door. She opened it, and several soldiers, under the command of a sergeant, entered.The boys guessed who they were by their voices, and the noise they made when grounding their muskets.“Well, messieurs,” said Dame Turgot, with perfect composure, “and what do you want here?”“We come in search of prisoners. It is reported that you have some concealed in your house,” said the sergeant.“Ma foi! that is a good joke! I conceal prisoners indeed!” exclaimed the dame, laughing. “Pray who are these notable prisoners?”“That’s for you to say. We only know that you have prisoners,” answered the sergeant.“Then, if you will have it so, one may possibly be a general, and the other an admiral, and the sooner they are lodged in the Bastille, the better for the safety of France,” answered the dame, laughing. “I am a loyal Frenchwoman, and can cry ‘Vive le Roi!’ ‘Vive la France!’ with all my heart.”Jack and Bill, who had quaked at the thoughts of being made prisoners by the soldiers, now began to have better hope of escaping.The sergeant, however, was not to be deceived by Dame Turgot’s manner.“Come, come, I must search your house, notwithstanding. For that purpose I was sent, and I must perform my duty,” he said; and he hunted round the room.“Now let us look into your room;” and the soldiers, entering, began poking about with their bayonets, running them under the bed, and through the bedding, in a way likely to kill anybody concealed.Jeannette’s little room was visited and treated in the same manner.“And what’s this room?” asked the sergeant, pointing to the boys’ room.“That? That is a closet,” answered the dame; “or if you like it, the general and admiral are both there fast asleep, but I am unwilling to disturb them.”She said this in a laughing tone, as if she were joking.“Well, open the door,” said the sergeant, not expecting to find anybody.“But I tell you the door is locked. Who has got the key, I wonder?” said the dame.“Come, come, unlock the door, or we must force it open,” said the sergeant, making as if he was about to prise it open with his bayonet.On this the dame pulled the key out of her pocket, and opening the door, exclaimed—“There in one bed you will find the general, and in the other the admiral; or, without joking, they are two poor boys whom my good man picked up at sea, and already they are more French than English.”The sergeant, looking into the beds, discovered the boys.“Come, get up, mes garçons,” he said; “you must come with me, whoever you are, and give an account of yourselves.”Neither of the boys made any reply, deeming it wiser to keep silence.“Come along,” he said; and he dragged first one, and then the other, out of bed.“Bring the boys’ clothes,” he added, turning to the dame, who quickly brought their original suits.They soon dressed themselves, hanging their knives round their necks.“I told you the truth. You see who and what they are!” exclaimed the dame.Jeannette, too, pleaded eloquently on their behalf, but the sergeant was unmoved.“All you say may be right, but I must take them,” he answered. “Come—quick march!”He allowed them, however, to take an affectionate farewell of the dame and Jeannette, the latter bursting into tears as she saw them dragged off by the soldiers.

Jack and Bill made themselves very useful in hauling the nets, and cleaning the fish when caught. Jack was well up to the work, and showed Bill how to do it. Captain Turgot was highly pleased, and called them “bons garçons,” and said he hoped that they would remain with him till the war was over, and as much longer as they liked. When the cutter returned into the harbour to land her fish, Jack and Bill were sent below, so that the authorities might not see them and carry them off. Captain Turgot was much afraid of losing them. They were getting on famously with their French, and Bill could chatter away already at a great rate, though not in very good French, to be sure, for he made a number of blunders, which afforded constant amusement to his companions, but Pierre was always ready to set him right.

Jack made much slower progress. He could not, he said, twist his tongue about sufficiently to get out the words, even when he remembered them. Some, he found, were wonderfully like English, and those he recollected the best, though, to be sure, they had different meanings. One day the cutter had stood out farther from the shore than usual, her nets being down, when, at daybreak, a strange sail was seen in the offing. The captain, after taking one look at her, was convinced that she was an enemy.

“Quick! quick! my sons,” he shouted: “we must haul the nets and make sail, or we shall be caught by the English. They are brave people, but I have no wish to see the inside of one of their prisons.”

All hands worked away as if their lives depended on their exertions. Jack and Bill lent a hand as usual. They scarcely knew what to wish. Should the stranger prove to be an English ship, and come up with them, they would be restored to liberty; but, at the same time, they would feel very sorry that their kind friends should lose their vessel and be made prisoners; still, Jack wanted to let his mother know that he was alive, and Bill wished to be on board a man-of-war again, fighting for Old England, and getting a foot or two up the ratlines.

His ambition had been aroused by what the captain had said to him, and the assistant master had observed, though he had spoken in joke, that he might, some day or other, become an admiral.

Bill had thought the subject over and over, till he began to fancy that, could he get another chance, the road to fame might be open to him. The loss of the ship with the captain and officers seemed, to be sure, to have overthrown all his hopes; but what had happened once might happen again, and by attending to his duty, and keeping his eyes open, and his wits awake, he might have another opportunity of distinguishing himself.

No one could possibly have suspected what was passing in Bill’s mind, as he worked away as energetically as the rest in stowing the nets and making sail.

The stranger was now made out to a certainty to be an English frigate, and a fast one, too, by the way she slipped through the water.

The wind was from the south-east, and being thus partially off shore, would enable the frigate to stand in closer to the land than she otherwise might have ventured to do. This greatly diminished the chances of the cutter’s escape.

Captain Turgot, however, like a brave man, did not tear his hair, or stamp, or swear, as Frenchmen are sometimes supposed to do, but, taking the helm, set every sail his craft could carry, and did his best, by careful steering, to keep to windward of the enemy.

Could he once get into harbour he would be safe, unless the frigate should send her boats in to cut his vessel out. The cutter possessed a couple of long sweeps. Should it fall calm, they would be of use; but at present the breeze was too strong to render them necessary.

The crew kept looking astern to watch the progress made by their pursuer, which was evidently coming up with them. What chance, indeed, had a little fishing craft with a dashing frigate?

An idea occurred to Jack which had not struck Bill.

“Suppose we are taken—and it looks to me as if we shall be before long—what will they say on board the frigate when they find us rigged out in fisherman’s clothes? They will be thinking we are deserters, and will be hanging us up at the yard-arm.”

“I hope it won’t go so hard as that with us,” answered Bill. “We can tell them that the Frenchmen took away our clothes, and rigged us out in these, and we could not help ourselves.”

“But will they believe us?” asked Jack.

On that point Bill acknowledged that there was some doubt; either way, he would be very sorry for Captain Turgot. One thing could be said, that neither their fears nor wishes would prevent the frigate from capturing the cutter. They looked upon that as a settled matter. As long, however, as there was a possibility of escaping, Captain Turgot resolved to persevere.

Matters began to look serious, when a flash and wreath of smoke was seen to issue from one of the bow guns of the frigate, and a shot came jumping over the water towards them. It did not reach them, however.

“You must get nearer, monsieur, before you hurt us,” said the captain, as he watched the shot fall into the water.

Shortly afterwards another followed. It came close up to the cutter; but a miss is as good as a mile, and the little vessel was none the worse for it.

Another shot, however, might produce a very different result.

“I say, Bill, I don’t quite like the look of things,” observed Jack. “Our skipper had better give in, or one of those shot will be coming aboard us, and carrying somebody’s head off.”

“He doesn’t look as if he had any thoughts of the sort,” said Bill; “and as long as there is any chance of keeping ahead, he’ll stand on.”

Soon after Bill had made this remark, another shot was fired from the frigate, and passed alongside the cutter, falling some way ahead.

Had it been better aimed, the effect might have been somewhat disastrous. Still Captain Turgot kept at the helm.

Some of the crew, however, began to cry out, and begged him to heave to. He pointed to the shore.

“Do you want to see your wives and families again?” he asked. “Look there! How smooth the water is ahead. The wind is falling, and the frigate will soon be becalmed. She’ll not think it worth while to send her boats after us. Come! out with the sweeps, and we shall soon draw out of shot of her. Look there! now her topsails are already flapping against the masts. Be of good courage, my sons!”

Thus incited, the crew got out the sweeps.

Jack and Bill helped them with as much apparent good-will as if they had had no wish to be on board the frigate.

The little vessel felt the effects of the powerful sweeps, and, in spite of the calm, continued to move ahead.

Again and again the frigate fired at her, but she was a small object, and each shot missed.

This encouraged the French crew, whose spirits rose as they saw their chance of escaping increase.

Farther and farther they got from the frigate, which, with the uncertainty from what quarter the wind would next blow, was afraid of standing closer in shore.

By nightfall the cutter, by dint of hard rowing, had got safe into harbour.

When Dame Turgot and Jeannette heard what had occurred, they expressed their delight at seeing their young friends back.

“We must not let you go to sea again, for it would be a sad thing to hear that you had been captured and shot for being deserters,” said Jeannette.

She had the same idea which had occurred to Jack.

The English frigates were at this time so frequently seen off the coast, that Captain Turgot, who had several boats as well as the cutter, thought it prudent to confine his operations to inshore fishing, so as not to run the risk of being captured.

Jack and Bill sometimes went out with him, but, for some reason or other, he more generally left them at home.

Pierre, who was a good swimmer, induced them to come down and bathe with him in the morning, and gave them instruction in the art.

Jack could already swim a little. Bill took to it at once, and beat him hollow; in a short time being able to perform all sorts of evolutions. He was soon so perfectly at home in the water, that he declared he felt able to swim across the Channel, if he could carry some food with him to support himself on the way.

Jack laughed at the idea, observing that “nobody ever had swum across the Channel, and he did not believe that anybody ever would do so.”

Pierre advised Bill not to make the attempt.

“No fear,” said Jack. “He’ll not go without me, and I am not going to drown myself if I can help it.”

Bill, however, often thought over the matter, and tried to devise some plan by which he and Jack might manage to get across. His plans came to nothing; and, indeed, the Channel where they were was much too wide to be crossed except in a small vessel or in a large boat. Jack was beginning to speak French pretty well, and Bill was able to gabble away with considerable fluency, greatly to the delight of Jeannette, who was his usual instructress. He tried to teach her a little English in return, but she laughed at her own attempts, and declared that she should never be able to pronounce so break-jaw a language.

Bill thought that she got on very well, but she seemed more anxious to teach him French than to learn English herself.

Several weeks more passed by. Well treated as they were, still the boys had a longing to return to England, though the opportunity of doing so appeared as far off as ever.

They were in the house one afternoon, laughing and joking merrily with Jeannette, while Dame Turgot was away at the neighbouring town to market, when the door opened, and she entered, with a look of alarm on her countenance.

“Quick, quick, come here!” she said; and seizing them both by the arms, she dragged them into the little inner room.

“Pull off your clothes and jump into bed!” she exclaimed. “Whatever you hear, don’t move or speak, but pretend to be fast asleep.”

They obeyed her; and snatching up their jackets and trousers, she hurried from the room, locking the door behind her.

She had just time to tumble their clothes into a chest, when a loud knocking was heard at the door. She opened it, and several soldiers, under the command of a sergeant, entered.

The boys guessed who they were by their voices, and the noise they made when grounding their muskets.

“Well, messieurs,” said Dame Turgot, with perfect composure, “and what do you want here?”

“We come in search of prisoners. It is reported that you have some concealed in your house,” said the sergeant.

“Ma foi! that is a good joke! I conceal prisoners indeed!” exclaimed the dame, laughing. “Pray who are these notable prisoners?”

“That’s for you to say. We only know that you have prisoners,” answered the sergeant.

“Then, if you will have it so, one may possibly be a general, and the other an admiral, and the sooner they are lodged in the Bastille, the better for the safety of France,” answered the dame, laughing. “I am a loyal Frenchwoman, and can cry ‘Vive le Roi!’ ‘Vive la France!’ with all my heart.”

Jack and Bill, who had quaked at the thoughts of being made prisoners by the soldiers, now began to have better hope of escaping.

The sergeant, however, was not to be deceived by Dame Turgot’s manner.

“Come, come, I must search your house, notwithstanding. For that purpose I was sent, and I must perform my duty,” he said; and he hunted round the room.

“Now let us look into your room;” and the soldiers, entering, began poking about with their bayonets, running them under the bed, and through the bedding, in a way likely to kill anybody concealed.

Jeannette’s little room was visited and treated in the same manner.

“And what’s this room?” asked the sergeant, pointing to the boys’ room.

“That? That is a closet,” answered the dame; “or if you like it, the general and admiral are both there fast asleep, but I am unwilling to disturb them.”

She said this in a laughing tone, as if she were joking.

“Well, open the door,” said the sergeant, not expecting to find anybody.

“But I tell you the door is locked. Who has got the key, I wonder?” said the dame.

“Come, come, unlock the door, or we must force it open,” said the sergeant, making as if he was about to prise it open with his bayonet.

On this the dame pulled the key out of her pocket, and opening the door, exclaimed—

“There in one bed you will find the general, and in the other the admiral; or, without joking, they are two poor boys whom my good man picked up at sea, and already they are more French than English.”

The sergeant, looking into the beds, discovered the boys.

“Come, get up, mes garçons,” he said; “you must come with me, whoever you are, and give an account of yourselves.”

Neither of the boys made any reply, deeming it wiser to keep silence.

“Come along,” he said; and he dragged first one, and then the other, out of bed.

“Bring the boys’ clothes,” he added, turning to the dame, who quickly brought their original suits.

They soon dressed themselves, hanging their knives round their necks.

“I told you the truth. You see who and what they are!” exclaimed the dame.

Jeannette, too, pleaded eloquently on their behalf, but the sergeant was unmoved.

“All you say may be right, but I must take them,” he answered. “Come—quick march!”

He allowed them, however, to take an affectionate farewell of the dame and Jeannette, the latter bursting into tears as she saw them dragged off by the soldiers.

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