Chapter Nine.

Chapter Nine.If the Frenchmen were very much astonished at finding us among them, we were not the less so on discovering the number of our opponents. Besides the crew, we found ourselves engaged with thirty or forty soldiers; but had there been more, it would have been the better for us, for so crowded were the schooner’s decks, that they impeded each other’s movements. By the suddenness of our rush, we had gained the after part of the vessel, and had killed or wounded half a dozen of the enemy before they knew exactly what to do. The bodies of these men served as a sort of rampart, while the bowman of our boat, having secured her, climbed up the side to our support, thus allowing us a few seconds to look about. In the centre of a group of vociferating, gesticulating, grimace-making Frenchmen, some armed with muskets, others with swords and cutlasses, and others pistols and boarding-pikes, stood a tall, gaunt, soldier officer, eyeing us very sternly, and tugging hard to get a sword out of a long scabbard, while he kept screaming to his men, as I understood, to annihilate the dogs of Englishmen, and to kick them into the sea. But though he kept shouting louder and louder, till his cries resembled the rabid howls of a wild beast, his soldiers found that though it might be easy to order them to kick five stout British seamen overboard, and two rather precocious midshipmen, it was not quite as easy for them to obey. I saw, too, that our only chance of success was to push on without further delay. Had Mr Johnson been with us I should have felt less doubt as to the result of our exploit.“On, my lads!” I shouted, “we must drive these Frenchmen off the deck.”Grey echoed my words, as did another faint voice, and I found that Toby Bluff, in spite of his wound, had climbed on board the schooner, and was ready to do battle by my side. On we all pushed. A sturdy French seaman, on my left, raised his cutlass, while I was engaged with another on my right. I could just see, out of the corner of my left eye, his weapon descending, and fully believed that my last moment had come, for it was impossible to ward it off. Before, however, the cutlass reached my head, there was the report of a pistol close to my ear, and my enemy tumbled over dead on the deck. Toby had saved my life, just as I had before saved the boatswain’s. We continued cutting and slashing away so furiously, that the Frenchmen no longer attempted to contend against us. Jumping aside like a troop of monkeys, as we got among them, they tumbled over each other down the hatchways, the old officer with them; whether he went of his own accord, or could not help it, I was unable to tell. All I know is, that he disappeared with most of his army, the remainder of whom lay sprawling on deck, or clinging to the bowsprit, while some of the crew had run up the rigging, and others had tumbled into the hold with the soldiers. Over these latter we took the liberty of clapping the hatches, while Billy Wise did the wisest thing he had been guilty of for a long time; he pointed his musket at the men aloft, and intimated that he would shoot the first who attempted to descend. Some of them had pistols, but they had fortunately already fired them at us, and they were afraid of throwing them at our heads, lest Billy should put his threat into execution. His adventure with the sea monster had evidently roused his wits, for he had, besides this, done good service in boarding, and several of the foe owed their fall to his sturdy arm. In less than five minutes from the time we sprang on board, Grey and I were shaking hands, as we stood on the hatch, with the Frenchmen below us.“I hope, though, that the Monsieurs won’t blow up the ship,” he observed; “they must begin to feel heartily ashamed of the way they have allowed us to take her from them.”“No fear of it; they are not the fellows for that,” I answered: “but it is just possible that they may attempt to take her back again, so we must keep a very bright look-out to prevent them.”Grey agreed with me.“I wish that I could talk to them, though,” he remarked; “I don’t suppose that one of our party knows a word of French.”“No; we must learn, however, on the first opportunity,” said I. “It would be very convenient, and very likely useful. If the captain had not known it, we should probably have been caught by the enemy’s fleet when we got among them.”The puzzle was now to settle how to manage with these prisoners. As we had only seven effectives, and they had more than forty, it was no slight task. Billy Wise, touching his hat, suggested that we should shoot them, or send them overboard with round-shots at their heels, to swim ashore if they could; but as that mode of procedure was somewhat contrary to the customs of civilised warfare, we declined to adopt it, though undoubtedly it would have solved our difficulties. We ultimately agreed that our best plan would be to get hold of all those on deck, and to lash their hands behind them, and then to summon a few at a time of those below to be treated in the same way. We soon had all those above deck secured. It seemed extraordinary that men should submit in so abject a manner to a party of men and boys. They appeared, indeed, entirely to have lost their wits. It shows what boldness and audacity will accomplish. However, it might have been the other way, and we might all have been knocked on the head, or tumbled down as prisoners into the Frenchman’s hold. Having accomplished this, we sent a hand to the helm, trimmed sails, though there was not much wind to fill them, and steered in the direction in which we hoped to fall in with the frigate. I must own that it was not till then that we thought of poor Ned Dawlish. We drew the boat alongside, and had him lifted on deck. We had some faint hopes that, though he lay so still, he might be alive, but his glazed eyes and stiffened limbs too plainly told us that his last fight was over, and that we should hear his cheery voice and hearty laugh no more. We then, turned our attention to Toby Bluff. He had shown himself a true hero, for though his wound must have given him intense pain, he had not given utterance to a complaint or a single groan, but had endeavoured to work away as if nothing was the matter with him. I had observed a good deal of blood about his dress, but it was not till I came to examine him that I found it had flowed from his own veins, and that his shirt and trousers on one side were literally saturated. He was looking deadly pale, and would in a few seconds have fainted, had not Grey and I set to work to staunch the blood. We had not much experience as surgeons, but we succeeded after some time.“Thank ye, sir; thank ye,” said Toby, his voice growing weaker every moment; “I’ll be up and at ’em again directly. I wants another pistol, please, sir. I don’t know what tricks the mounseers may be up to, and they shan’t hurt you if I can help it, that they shan’t. I shot one on ’em, and I’ll shoot another.”By this time his voice grew indistinct, and we began to be alarmed about him. We happily had some rum and water left. We poured it down his throat, and it evidently revived him. We then placed him under charge of the helmsman, and continued our other duties.“Now, Merry, what’s to be done?” asked Grey, when we had got all who remained on deck in limbo. “If those gentlemen down there find it’s hot, which I suspect they will very soon, they will begin to grow obstreperous, and try to force their way out. When men get desperate, they are somewhat difficult to manage.”“People cannot live without air, I fancy, and they cannot have much of it in the hold of this craft, which must naturally have a pretty strong smell of bilge-water,” I answered. “We must get them up somehow or other, so that they don’t overpower us. However, we may as well first get the dead men overboard; they are only in the way where they are.”“We should see to the wounded first,” remarked Grey, more thoughtful and humane than I was. “If we could get below, I dare say that we should find spirits and wine, and other good things for them.”The first man we came to had received the stroke of a British cutlass full on the top of his head, and did not require our assistance, so he was pitched overboard. The next was the man shot dead by Toby, so his body was treated in the same way. A third still breathed, but was bleeding profusely from a deep wound in his shoulder, and a shot through his side. His case seemed hopeless, but we bound up his hurts and placed him against the bulwarks, under the shade of the sail. Two more we came to were dead, and two badly wounded. When we had done what we could for them, and placed them with their companions, we saw a fourth man, whom we supposed to be dead, right forward. When we lifted him up his limbs did not seem very stiff, nor could we see any wound about him. Billy Wise was assisting us.“Why, sirs,” he exclaimed, “the chap has got a big knife in his clutch, and those eyes of his ain’t dead men’s eyes, but maybe it will be just as well to pitch him overboard; he can’t do no harm then, anyhow.”Billy was right, for as he spoke I saw the supposed dead man’s eyes twinkle. Calling another of our people to our assistance, we snatched the knife out of the man’s hand, and then lifting him up we seemed as if about to heave him overboard. Indeed, Billy thought that was our object. The Frenchman, however, did not approve of this, and gave strong evidence that he was alive, by struggling violently, and uttering with extraordinary volubility a variety of expletives on the matter. When we had frightened him a little, we lashed his arms behind him and placed him with the rest of the prisoners on deck. There could be little doubt that he had shammed dead, and kept a knife ready, with the hopes of releasing his companions while we were off our guard, and retaking the vessel. For this we could not blame him, so we treated him with the same care as the other prisoners—only, perhaps, we kept rather a sharper watch over him, lest he might attempt to play us some other trick.There were some casks of water on the deck, so we served some of it out to ourselves and our prisoners on deck alike. Most of the Frenchmen looked as if they were grateful, but the sulky countenances of some of them did not alter. However, that made no difference in our behaviour, as Grey and I agreed it must have been terribly annoying to their feelings to find themselves thus hopelessly prisoners.We had done thus much, when we heard thumping and shouts from below. This was what we expected, but we had hoped to have fallen in with the frigate before it became absolutely necessary to open the hatches. We looked round. From the deck she was nowhere to be seen, so charging Grey and our men to watch the hatches—the companion and forehatch, as well as the main, I went aloft to obtain a wider circle, in the expectation that I might thus discover her.Not a sail was in sight. The low island with its groves of palm trees lay to the northward, and the wide expanse of the Caribbean Sea to the south. I scarcely knew what to do. I sat at the mast-head to consider, but was speedily aroused by a shout from Grey.In a second, as the Yankees say, like greased lightning, I slid down the topmast backstay on deck. A Frenchman’s head was protruding through the fore hatchway, he having forced off the hatch, and Billy Wise, who had been stationed there, was endeavouring to drive him back—not an easy task, as others below were shoving a boarding-pike at him for the purpose of compelling him to retreat. Billy, however, stood his ground, and was working away with his elbow to get at his cutlass, while he kept his musket pointed at the man’s head.In the meantime others were thundering away at the main hatch, and, what was still more dangerous, a party had evidently cut their way aft, and were trying to force back the companion-hatch. We knew, too, that they must have firearms, so that we were altogether placed in a very difficult position. The fore hatch must first be secured. I was running to help Billy, when I saw him whip out his cutlass, and before I could stop him, it flashed in the sun, and the unfortunate Frenchman’s head rolled on the deck.“There, you Johnny Crapeaus, if any of you likes it, I’ll do the same for you,” he shouted, flourishing his weapon.The body of the man fell below, stopping his companions from ascending, and though they might not have understood the words in which Billy’s liberal offer was made, they must have caught sight of the glittering cutlass sweeping over the hatchway, and hesitated about placing their necks within its influence.I sprang forward. So excited was Billy that he did not see me, and very nearly treated me as he had threatened to do the Frenchmen—taking me for one of them.“Lauk, Master Merry, if I had a done it,” he exclaimed, when he discovered his mistake.I did not speak, but popping on the hatch, secured it before our captives could make a rush to get out. It was breathless work, it may be believed—indeed, I even to this day feel almost out of breath when I think of it. Leaving Billy at the post he had guarded so well, I ran back to the companion-hatch, inside of which we could hear the men working away with most disagreeable vigour.“Oh dear! oh dear!” exclaimed Grey over and over again. “If we could but speak French, we could tell the men what we would do if they would behave themselves.”“But, as we cannot, we must show them what we will do if they don’t,” I rejoined. “We must get them on deck somehow or other, for if we keep them much longer below they will die, I am afraid. It is hot up here—it must be ten times worse in that close hold.”“I’ll tell you, then,” he answered. “We must keep our loaded pistols in our hands, and get up one at a time through the companion-hatchway. If more than one attempts to come, we must shoot him; there’s no help for it. It will be a long process, but I suppose those who first come will tell the others how we treat them, and they will be content to wait.”“We must have some water, then, for they will be terribly thirsty,” said I. “And we must have a good supply of lashings ready, to secure them.”We accordingly unrove all the running rigging that could be spared, and cut it into lengths, and then, leaving Billy Wise as sentry at his former post, we rolled two water casks over the main hatch, adding a spare sail and spars, so that there was little danger of its being forced. We all then collected round the after hatch. We slipped back the hatch sufficiently far to allow of one man passing through at a time, then, holding our pistols so that those below might see them, we beckoned to the Frenchmen to come up. At first, from having discovered probably the way that Billy Wise had treated their countryman, they were unwilling to take advantage of our invitation, which was not to be wondered at. I ordered the men to take care lest they might fire up at us, for I suspected some treachery.“Come along, mounseers, come along; we won’t hurt ye,” said Ned Bambrick, the best man with us; indeed, there was not a better in the ship, though certain wild pranks in which he had indulged had prevented him from becoming a petty officer. “Come along, now, we’ll treat ye as if ye was all sucking babies.”Though the Frenchmen did not understand the words addressed to them, the tone of his voice somewhat reassured them, and at last one ventured up. We immediately seized him by the arms, hauled him out, and shut to the hatch, greatly to the disappointment of those who were following. The Frenchman, who was a sailor, looked dreadfully frightened, and began to struggle violently, expecting probably that we were going to throw him overboard. We had, however, his arms very soon lashed behind him, and we then gave him water, and pointed to his shipmates sitting quietly round the side. He was once more satisfied, and we then signed to him, as well as we could, that he was to tell his companions below that no harm would happen to them. We concluded that he did so, for after he had shouted down the hatchway, another cautiously lifted his head above the coaming. He gave a cry as we seized hold of him, but we quickly had him up, and treated like the other. In the same way we got up a dozen, the last showing clear signs of having suffered most. At length a nearly bald head appeared, with a silver plate covering part of it, on which I read the word “Arcole,” and then the high narrow forehead, gaunt cheeks, and thin body of the old colonel slowly emerged from the cabin. He looked round with a confused expression on his countenance, as if not very certain what had happened; but, before he had had much time for consideration, Ned Bambrick politely took him by the hand, and helped him to step out on deck. When he found himself seized to be pinioned, he looked very indignant, and struggled to get loose, but we had the ropes round his arms in a moment. As a compliment, however, we secured him to the mainmast, with a heap of sail-cloth to sit on. He made so many extraordinary grimaces that even poor Toby, who was sitting opposite to him, in spite of his suffering, burst into a fit of laughter. Grey and I had, however, just then too much to do to laugh. There were still nearly twenty men below, enough to overpower us and to release their countrymen, so it was necessary to be as cautious as at first. From the horrible effluvium which came rushing up the hatchway each time the hatch was slid off, we might have known that the men who had to exist in it long were not likely to be very difficult to manage. In those days midshipmen, at all events, knew nothing of hydrogen and oxygen, and that human beings could not exist without a certain supply of the latter. A few more climbed slowly up. We thought that they were shamming, and treated them like the rest. At last no more appeared.“What can they be about?” I asked of Grey. Then we heard some groans.“What shall we do?” said Grey.“I’ll tell you, sir, I’ll go below and find out,” exclaimed Ned Bambrick.It was the only way of solving the difficulty. We put on the companion-hatch, and lifted off the main hatch. We were nearly knocked down with the abominable odour which arose as we did so. Notwithstanding this, Ned sprang down into the hold. He groped about for half a minute, when he sang out, “Send a whip down and get these fellows on deck, or they’ll be dead altogether.”We lowered the end of a rope, and ran up the men one after another, as he made them fast to it. They were in a very exhausted condition; but the fresh air, though it was still very hot, and the water we poured down their throats, soon revived them, and we had to lash their arms behind them, as we had the others. During this time Billy Wise volunteered to go down and assist Ned. We had hoisted up ten or a dozen when they both declared that they could find no more, so we took all the hatches off to ventilate the vessel, not forgetting to throw overboard the corpse of the poor fellow whose head Billy’s cutlass had cut off. Billy wanted to keep the head as a trophy, but we did not approve of that, and made him pitch it after the body.“Well, now I hope you’ll find each other,” observed Billy, with perfect gravity, as he did so.It had certainly a very odd appearance to see our forty prisoners arranged round the vessel, with the colonel at the mainmast and the man we supposed to be the master at the foremast. We had, however, to wait on them, and to carry them water and food. Grey and I agreed that, though it was a very honourable thing to command a ship, we should be very glad to be relieved of the honour. Since we captured the vessel we had not had a moment to take any food. Hunger made us rather inclined to despond. We, however, found out what was the matter with us, and sent Billy Wise down into the cabin to forage. He soon returned with some biscuit and white cheese, and dried plums and raisins, and a few bottles of claret, but there was no honest cold beef or rum.“It’s no wonder we licked the Johnny Crapeaus when that’s the stuff they feeds on,” observed Ned Bambrick, turning over the food with a look of contempt.However, he and the rest stowed away no small amount of the comestibles, notwithstanding his contempt for them. When, however, he came to the liquid, tossing off the contents of a bottle, he made a woefully wry face and exclaimed,—“Billy, my boy, we must have a full cask of this on deck—a chap must drink a bucket or two before he finds out he has taken anything. It’s vinegar and water, to my mind.”Grey and I took a few glasses of the wine. It did not taste so bad, especially in that hot weather, but we fancied that there was but little strength in it. As the men required refreshment, we did not object to their taking as much as they fancied. Persuaded by Bambrick, Billy went below, and soon sang out that he had found a cask of the same stuff as that in the bottles. A whip was sent below. A cask was hoisted on deck, and found to contain what was undoubtedly claret. When the old colonel saw it he shrieked out something about “monsieur le gouverneur.”“Well, Mounzeer Governor! here’s to your health, then,” said Bambrick, draining off a mugful of the claret, which had been quickly tapped. “This is better tipple than the other. Here, old boy, you shall have a glass, to see if we can’t put a smile into that ugly mug of yours.”The old soldier seemed not at all to object to the wine which Ned poured down his throat, and he smacked his lips as if he would like some more. Fortunately Grey and I now tasted the claret, and though we were no great judges of wine, we knew enough to ascertain that it was remarkably fine and strong; and moreover we discovered, by the way Ned and Billy and the rest began to talk, that they had had enough, if not too much of it already.“It was unwise of us to let them have any at all,” observed Grey. “How we shall keep them from it I do not know; and if they get drunk, as they certainly will if they have much more, the chances are the Frenchmen will take the vessel from us.”“We must knock the head in,” I answered. “It is our only security. I know from experience, that if seamen can by any means get hold of liquor, they will do so at all risks, and that they are in no way particular what it is.”“It will be better to serve it out to the prisoners,” said Grey. “If we appeal to these men’s kind feelings they will do it, and if there is more than enough we must leave the spile out.”Bambrick and Billy, and the other men, were perfectly ready to do as we proposed. When the old colonel saw what we were doing he again shrieked out about the Governor, but this did not prevent the men from serving out the wine. It only made Bambrick turn round and say:“All right, Mr Governor, you shall have some more, old boy.”He took care, at all events, that the old gentleman should have enough, for he gave him the greater portion of the contents of a jug.We waited till nearly all the men were served, and then Grey pulled out the spile, and a good deal ran out. He had to put it in before the men returned for their last supply. Still, for fear that too much might remain, he kicked away the block of wood which kept it in its place, and then rolling over the cask, it was emptied of its remaining contents. I must do our fellows the justice to say that they treated the prisoners as they would like to have been treated themselves, and gave them as much wine as they would drink. The only difference was that they would have drunk five times as much as the Frenchmen, and not have been the worse for it.They were rather inclined to grumble when they found that there was no more. I saw that it was time to exert my authority.“You’ve done very well, lads,” I exclaimed. “But suppose you were all to get drunk, what would the Frenchmen do with us, I should like to know? Shall I tell you? They would manage to wriggle themselves free, and heave us all overboard. If we don’t want to disgrace ourselves, let us keep what we’ve got. Not another drop of liquor does anyone have aboard here till we fall in with the frigate.”My speech appeared to have some effect, and I took care to give all hands ample employment, that they might not think of the liquor. As it was, by the springy way in which they moved about the deck, and the harangues uttered by Ned Bambrick on every trivial occasion, I saw that they had already had quite enough for our safety. Night was now approaching, but still the frigate was nowhere to be seen. Grey went aloft, and took an anxious look round.“Not a sign of her,” he said, as he returned on deck.Darkness came on. All hands were naturally feeling very sleepy, but with so many prisoners to guard, even though their hands were lashed behind them, it was necessary for us to keep awake. However, Grey and I agreed that—if we were rested and brisk we could do more than if we were worn out—it would be best for us to take a little sleep at intervals, and allow one or two of the men to sleep at the same time. One man was at the helm, and two others kept walking up and down the deck, with pistols in their hands and cutlasses ready for use. Grey lay down first. He slept so soundly that I did not like to call him. The night was dark, but the prisoners were quiet, and there was but little wind; even that little had died away. I did not altogether like the look of the weather. The heat was very great, and though it was calm then, I knew that it was not far off the hurricane season, and I thought if we were to be caught in a hurricane how greatly our difficulties would be increased, even if we were not lost altogether. After a time Grey started up of his own accord. The instant I lay down on the after part of the deck I was asleep. It appeared to me that I had scarcely closed my eyes, when I was aroused by shouts and cries. I started up, fully persuaded that the Frenchmen were loose and upon us. The sounds appeared to come from the hold. As I ran to the main hatchway I heard a noise of scuffling and struggling, and a voice shouting “Oh, Master Merry, Master Grey, the ghosteses have got hold of me, the ghosteses have got hold of me.” Looking into the hold, I saw, by the light of a lanthorn, Billy Wise struggling with two Frenchmen, while, forward, Grey and one of our men were, I discovered rather by my ears than by sight, engaged with another of the prisoners, who had apparently worked himself loose. Ned Bambrick had started to his feet at the moment that I did. Together we leaped down below. We were not an instant too soon. Billy was almost overpowered, and as there were some cutlasses at hand, the Frenchmen might have armed themselves and killed us while we were asleep. Bambrick knocked one over with a blow of his fist, and the other was easily managed. Where they had come from we could not tell. They were none of those who had appeared on deck, and must have been concealed very cleverly when we sent down to search below. It was a lesson to Grey and me ever after to go and look ourselves when a search of importance was to be made. While Bambrick and Billy held the men down, I ran for some rope, with which we made them fast pretty tightly to some stanchions between decks. Grey and his companion had in the meantime re-secured the prisoner who had managed nearly to release himself, and we then made a more careful search than before through every part of the vessel. We had pretty well satisfied ourselves that no one else was stowed away below, when a loud cry, and finding the vessel suddenly heeling over, made us spring on deck. A squall had struck her. I did not expect to see her recover herself. Everything was flying away; yards were cracking, the sails in shreds fluttering in the gale; the masts were bending as if about to go over the side; blocks were falling from aloft; ropes slashing and whipping furiously; the water was rushing in through the lee scuppers half up the deck, and nearly drowning the unfortunate Frenchmen sitting there, who were shrieking out in dismay, believing that their last moments had come. Ned Bambrick sprang aft and put up the helm: the after canvas was chiefly off her; she had gathered way, and now answering her helm, she flew before it. Never had I been in such a scene of confusion, increased by the roaring of the wind, the shrieks of the prisoners, the rattling of the blocks and ropes, the cracking of spars, and the loud slush of the water as it rushed about the deck. What had become of Grey I could not tell. It was too dark now to distinguish anyone. I called: he did not answer. A horrid feeling seized me. He must have been knocked overboard. I called again in despair. At that moment it would have been a matter of indifference to me if the Frenchmen had risen and taken the vessel from us. A faint voice answered me. It was that of Toby Bluff. “He was there, sir, but just now.”I had been standing on the weather side. I slid down to leeward, for I saw some one there. I grasped hold of the person, and hauled him up. It was Grey. When the vessel was first struck, he had been knocked over by the tiller, which he must have just taken, believing that there was to be but a slight breeze. He had been half stunned and half drowned. He speedily, however, to my great joy, recovered. I now mustered all hands, most of whom had been sent sprawling in among the Frenchmen, who kicked and bit at them, they declared, but which Grey and I did not believe to be the fact. We now set to work to get the ship to rights. We squared yards as well as we could, furled the remnant of the canvas, and set a close-reefed fore-topsail, under which the little vessel ran on very comfortably. Our chief concern was, that we were, as we thought, running away from the frigate. None of us felt disposed to go to sleep again, so we kept a bright look-out, not knowing whether we might not be hurrying directly on to a coral reef, or another island. The wind, however, soon began to go down, and I was proposing to Grey to haul up again, when Billy Wise, who was stationed forward, sang out—“Starboard—starboard the helm—or we shall run down the frigate!”Sure enough, in half a minute, we were gliding by close under her stern. A voice from the deck hailed us.“What schooner is that?”“The —, I don’t know her name—prize to the second cutter of His Majesty’s frigate Doris,” I answered. “We’ve a heap of prisoners, and I don’t know what to do with them!”“Heave-to, and we will send a boat on board,” was shouted in return.Day was just breaking, and the increasing light enabled us to manage better than we could otherwise have done. We had now less fear of our enemies breaking loose, so all hands were able to assist in getting some after sail on the vessel, and bringing her up to the wind.“Now we shall catch it for all this,” said Grey, as we saw the boat pulling towards us from the frigate.“I hope not,” said I. “At all events, we must make the best of it. There’s Mr Fitzgerald in the boat. We’ll get him to stand our friend.”“Well, boys, this is a nate piece of work you’ve been after doing now!” remarked our handsome second lieutenant, as he surveyed the deck. “You don’t mean to say that you captured all these heroes?”“Every one of them, sir,” said Grey, with perfect seriousness. “I hope the captain won’t be angry.”“There’s no saying. However, we’ll see,” he answered with a smile.We now made more sail, and ran in close under the lee of the frigate.Perigal was sent on board the schooner to take charge of her, and the prisoners were transferred to the deck of the frigate, where the captain and most of the officers were assembled. Mr Johnson met me. He had just time to say, “I congratulate you, Mr Merry. You’ve done well. You are worthy of my teaching!” when the prisoners were summoned aft.We had given the old colonel his sword, that he might present it in due form. He marched aft at the head of his men, and presented it to Captain Collyer with a profound bow.The Captain then addressed him. I was afterwards told what he said. It was—“I am surprised, monsieur, that you, an experienced soldier, who have seen much service, should allow yourself and your men to be captured by a single boat’s crew and two midshipmen.”“Ma foi!” exclaimed the colonel, with an inimitable shrug of his shoulders, and an indescribable expression of countenance, indicative of intense disgust. “I am a brave man; I fear nothing—mais c’est ce terrible mal de mer!” (this terrible sea-sickness.)I do not know what Captain Collyer said in return, but I fancy he did not pay the colonel any compliments on his gallantry. (I only hope that Frenchmen, on other occasions, may have their valour cooled down to zero by that terrible sea-sickness.) Grey and I were very agreeably surprised when, instead of being reprimanded for what we had done, the captain praised us very much for the daring way in which we had taken the schooner. Mr Fitzgerald had told him all the particulars beforehand. Somebody, however, was to blame for having taken the arms in the boat. All the men, however, declared that they knew nothing about it, but that the getting them in had been entirely managed by Ned Dawlish, who, being dead, could say nothing in his defence, and was therefore found guilty. The truth was, that the captain was very well-pleased at what had been done, and was ready to overlook the disobedience of orders of which the men had been guilty.Grey and I were in high feather. We dined that day with the captain, who complimented us on our exploit, and made us give him all the particulars. He told us that the carpenter, who had been sent on board to survey the schooner, had reported favourably of her, and that he proposed to employ her as a tender, while the frigate was refitting at Port Royal.As it was necessary to get rid of our prisoners, a course was steered at once for Jamaica, so that we might land them there. We found, after a little time, that the French colonel was not a bad old fellow. I really believe that he was as brave as most men, and that he had spoken the truth when he said that “le mal de mer had overcome him.” Probably most of his men were in the same condition. Grey and I did not forget our resolution to try and learn French, and as one of the mates, Duncan McAllister, could speak a little, we begged him to ask the old colonel if he would teach us. He replied that he would do so gladly, and would teach any one else who wished to learn. Indeed our proposal was ultimately of great service to him, for when he got on shore, and was admitted as a prisoner on his parole, he gained a very comfortable livelihood by teaching French. I afterwards heard that, when the war was over, he declined going back to la belle France, and settled among his friends the English. It is just possible, that the way in which he had allowed himself and his thirty men to be taken by us had something to do with this decision.The colonel’s name was, I remember, Painchaud, which is translated Hotbread,—a funny name, which I never met elsewhere. We invited him into the berth to give his lessons, but we had to clear away several boxes and hampers to afford him space to stretch his legs under the table. As he sat on the narrow locker with his bald head touching the deck above, his elbows resting on the table, and his long legs stretched out to the other side of the berth, while we youngsters in every variety of attitude grouped ourselves round him, he looked like some antiquated Gulliver among a party of rather overgrown Lilliputians. At first he had a considerable number of pupils, but it was very evident that they assembled more for the sake of trying if any fun could be found, than with any serious intention of learning French. We had forgotten when we had made our proposal that books would be necessary to enable us to make any progress in the language, but not a French work of any sort was to be procured on board, still less a grammar. At length the colonel produced two from his valise. They were, I have reason to believe, not such as would have tended to our edification; but happily, in the then state of our knowledge of the language in which they were written, they were not likely to hurt our morals. As we had no grammar, the colonel made us understand that he wanted paper and pens and ink; and then he wrote out words, and intimated to us that we were to repeat them after him. He would take the hand of one of his pupils and exclaim “main,” and make each of us repeat it after him. Then he would seize an ear and cry out “oreille,” and pretty hard he pinched too. If any of us cried out, it evidently afforded him infinite amusement. We, of course, gave him the name which he always afterwards kept, of Colonel Pinchard. When any of his pupils pronounced the word wrongly, it was highly amusing to watch the wonderful way in which his shoulders went up and his head sank down between them. No English pair of shoulders could have behaved in the same way; nor could certainly any English mouth have rolled out the extraordinary expletives with which he was wont to give force to his sentiments. His great delight was, however, pulling Grey’s and my ears, which, we agreed, was in revenge for taking him prisoner. One day he wrote downnez, and asked me what it meant. I replied by a loud neigh like a horse. The rest of the party took the joke and laughed, as I intended they should; but he, not understanding the cause of this, and thinking that they were laughing at him, seized my nose and gave it a tweak, which made me fancy he was pulling it off. In the impulse of the moment I sprang on the table, and seizing his nasal promontory, hauled away at it with hearty goodwill, and there we sat, he sending forth with unsurpassable rapidity a torrent of “Sa–c–r–r–és,” which almost overwhelmed me; neither of us willing to be the first to let go. At last, from sheer exhaustion and pain, we both of us fell back. I might have boasted of the victory, for, though I felt acute pain, my nose did not alter its shape, while the Frenchman’s swelled up to twice its usual proportions. The contest, however, very nearly put an end to our French lessons. However, as our master was really a good-natured man, he was soon pacified, and we set to work again as before.

If the Frenchmen were very much astonished at finding us among them, we were not the less so on discovering the number of our opponents. Besides the crew, we found ourselves engaged with thirty or forty soldiers; but had there been more, it would have been the better for us, for so crowded were the schooner’s decks, that they impeded each other’s movements. By the suddenness of our rush, we had gained the after part of the vessel, and had killed or wounded half a dozen of the enemy before they knew exactly what to do. The bodies of these men served as a sort of rampart, while the bowman of our boat, having secured her, climbed up the side to our support, thus allowing us a few seconds to look about. In the centre of a group of vociferating, gesticulating, grimace-making Frenchmen, some armed with muskets, others with swords and cutlasses, and others pistols and boarding-pikes, stood a tall, gaunt, soldier officer, eyeing us very sternly, and tugging hard to get a sword out of a long scabbard, while he kept screaming to his men, as I understood, to annihilate the dogs of Englishmen, and to kick them into the sea. But though he kept shouting louder and louder, till his cries resembled the rabid howls of a wild beast, his soldiers found that though it might be easy to order them to kick five stout British seamen overboard, and two rather precocious midshipmen, it was not quite as easy for them to obey. I saw, too, that our only chance of success was to push on without further delay. Had Mr Johnson been with us I should have felt less doubt as to the result of our exploit.

“On, my lads!” I shouted, “we must drive these Frenchmen off the deck.”

Grey echoed my words, as did another faint voice, and I found that Toby Bluff, in spite of his wound, had climbed on board the schooner, and was ready to do battle by my side. On we all pushed. A sturdy French seaman, on my left, raised his cutlass, while I was engaged with another on my right. I could just see, out of the corner of my left eye, his weapon descending, and fully believed that my last moment had come, for it was impossible to ward it off. Before, however, the cutlass reached my head, there was the report of a pistol close to my ear, and my enemy tumbled over dead on the deck. Toby had saved my life, just as I had before saved the boatswain’s. We continued cutting and slashing away so furiously, that the Frenchmen no longer attempted to contend against us. Jumping aside like a troop of monkeys, as we got among them, they tumbled over each other down the hatchways, the old officer with them; whether he went of his own accord, or could not help it, I was unable to tell. All I know is, that he disappeared with most of his army, the remainder of whom lay sprawling on deck, or clinging to the bowsprit, while some of the crew had run up the rigging, and others had tumbled into the hold with the soldiers. Over these latter we took the liberty of clapping the hatches, while Billy Wise did the wisest thing he had been guilty of for a long time; he pointed his musket at the men aloft, and intimated that he would shoot the first who attempted to descend. Some of them had pistols, but they had fortunately already fired them at us, and they were afraid of throwing them at our heads, lest Billy should put his threat into execution. His adventure with the sea monster had evidently roused his wits, for he had, besides this, done good service in boarding, and several of the foe owed their fall to his sturdy arm. In less than five minutes from the time we sprang on board, Grey and I were shaking hands, as we stood on the hatch, with the Frenchmen below us.

“I hope, though, that the Monsieurs won’t blow up the ship,” he observed; “they must begin to feel heartily ashamed of the way they have allowed us to take her from them.”

“No fear of it; they are not the fellows for that,” I answered: “but it is just possible that they may attempt to take her back again, so we must keep a very bright look-out to prevent them.”

Grey agreed with me.

“I wish that I could talk to them, though,” he remarked; “I don’t suppose that one of our party knows a word of French.”

“No; we must learn, however, on the first opportunity,” said I. “It would be very convenient, and very likely useful. If the captain had not known it, we should probably have been caught by the enemy’s fleet when we got among them.”

The puzzle was now to settle how to manage with these prisoners. As we had only seven effectives, and they had more than forty, it was no slight task. Billy Wise, touching his hat, suggested that we should shoot them, or send them overboard with round-shots at their heels, to swim ashore if they could; but as that mode of procedure was somewhat contrary to the customs of civilised warfare, we declined to adopt it, though undoubtedly it would have solved our difficulties. We ultimately agreed that our best plan would be to get hold of all those on deck, and to lash their hands behind them, and then to summon a few at a time of those below to be treated in the same way. We soon had all those above deck secured. It seemed extraordinary that men should submit in so abject a manner to a party of men and boys. They appeared, indeed, entirely to have lost their wits. It shows what boldness and audacity will accomplish. However, it might have been the other way, and we might all have been knocked on the head, or tumbled down as prisoners into the Frenchman’s hold. Having accomplished this, we sent a hand to the helm, trimmed sails, though there was not much wind to fill them, and steered in the direction in which we hoped to fall in with the frigate. I must own that it was not till then that we thought of poor Ned Dawlish. We drew the boat alongside, and had him lifted on deck. We had some faint hopes that, though he lay so still, he might be alive, but his glazed eyes and stiffened limbs too plainly told us that his last fight was over, and that we should hear his cheery voice and hearty laugh no more. We then, turned our attention to Toby Bluff. He had shown himself a true hero, for though his wound must have given him intense pain, he had not given utterance to a complaint or a single groan, but had endeavoured to work away as if nothing was the matter with him. I had observed a good deal of blood about his dress, but it was not till I came to examine him that I found it had flowed from his own veins, and that his shirt and trousers on one side were literally saturated. He was looking deadly pale, and would in a few seconds have fainted, had not Grey and I set to work to staunch the blood. We had not much experience as surgeons, but we succeeded after some time.

“Thank ye, sir; thank ye,” said Toby, his voice growing weaker every moment; “I’ll be up and at ’em again directly. I wants another pistol, please, sir. I don’t know what tricks the mounseers may be up to, and they shan’t hurt you if I can help it, that they shan’t. I shot one on ’em, and I’ll shoot another.”

By this time his voice grew indistinct, and we began to be alarmed about him. We happily had some rum and water left. We poured it down his throat, and it evidently revived him. We then placed him under charge of the helmsman, and continued our other duties.

“Now, Merry, what’s to be done?” asked Grey, when we had got all who remained on deck in limbo. “If those gentlemen down there find it’s hot, which I suspect they will very soon, they will begin to grow obstreperous, and try to force their way out. When men get desperate, they are somewhat difficult to manage.”

“People cannot live without air, I fancy, and they cannot have much of it in the hold of this craft, which must naturally have a pretty strong smell of bilge-water,” I answered. “We must get them up somehow or other, so that they don’t overpower us. However, we may as well first get the dead men overboard; they are only in the way where they are.”

“We should see to the wounded first,” remarked Grey, more thoughtful and humane than I was. “If we could get below, I dare say that we should find spirits and wine, and other good things for them.”

The first man we came to had received the stroke of a British cutlass full on the top of his head, and did not require our assistance, so he was pitched overboard. The next was the man shot dead by Toby, so his body was treated in the same way. A third still breathed, but was bleeding profusely from a deep wound in his shoulder, and a shot through his side. His case seemed hopeless, but we bound up his hurts and placed him against the bulwarks, under the shade of the sail. Two more we came to were dead, and two badly wounded. When we had done what we could for them, and placed them with their companions, we saw a fourth man, whom we supposed to be dead, right forward. When we lifted him up his limbs did not seem very stiff, nor could we see any wound about him. Billy Wise was assisting us.

“Why, sirs,” he exclaimed, “the chap has got a big knife in his clutch, and those eyes of his ain’t dead men’s eyes, but maybe it will be just as well to pitch him overboard; he can’t do no harm then, anyhow.”

Billy was right, for as he spoke I saw the supposed dead man’s eyes twinkle. Calling another of our people to our assistance, we snatched the knife out of the man’s hand, and then lifting him up we seemed as if about to heave him overboard. Indeed, Billy thought that was our object. The Frenchman, however, did not approve of this, and gave strong evidence that he was alive, by struggling violently, and uttering with extraordinary volubility a variety of expletives on the matter. When we had frightened him a little, we lashed his arms behind him and placed him with the rest of the prisoners on deck. There could be little doubt that he had shammed dead, and kept a knife ready, with the hopes of releasing his companions while we were off our guard, and retaking the vessel. For this we could not blame him, so we treated him with the same care as the other prisoners—only, perhaps, we kept rather a sharper watch over him, lest he might attempt to play us some other trick.

There were some casks of water on the deck, so we served some of it out to ourselves and our prisoners on deck alike. Most of the Frenchmen looked as if they were grateful, but the sulky countenances of some of them did not alter. However, that made no difference in our behaviour, as Grey and I agreed it must have been terribly annoying to their feelings to find themselves thus hopelessly prisoners.

We had done thus much, when we heard thumping and shouts from below. This was what we expected, but we had hoped to have fallen in with the frigate before it became absolutely necessary to open the hatches. We looked round. From the deck she was nowhere to be seen, so charging Grey and our men to watch the hatches—the companion and forehatch, as well as the main, I went aloft to obtain a wider circle, in the expectation that I might thus discover her.

Not a sail was in sight. The low island with its groves of palm trees lay to the northward, and the wide expanse of the Caribbean Sea to the south. I scarcely knew what to do. I sat at the mast-head to consider, but was speedily aroused by a shout from Grey.

In a second, as the Yankees say, like greased lightning, I slid down the topmast backstay on deck. A Frenchman’s head was protruding through the fore hatchway, he having forced off the hatch, and Billy Wise, who had been stationed there, was endeavouring to drive him back—not an easy task, as others below were shoving a boarding-pike at him for the purpose of compelling him to retreat. Billy, however, stood his ground, and was working away with his elbow to get at his cutlass, while he kept his musket pointed at the man’s head.

In the meantime others were thundering away at the main hatch, and, what was still more dangerous, a party had evidently cut their way aft, and were trying to force back the companion-hatch. We knew, too, that they must have firearms, so that we were altogether placed in a very difficult position. The fore hatch must first be secured. I was running to help Billy, when I saw him whip out his cutlass, and before I could stop him, it flashed in the sun, and the unfortunate Frenchman’s head rolled on the deck.

“There, you Johnny Crapeaus, if any of you likes it, I’ll do the same for you,” he shouted, flourishing his weapon.

The body of the man fell below, stopping his companions from ascending, and though they might not have understood the words in which Billy’s liberal offer was made, they must have caught sight of the glittering cutlass sweeping over the hatchway, and hesitated about placing their necks within its influence.

I sprang forward. So excited was Billy that he did not see me, and very nearly treated me as he had threatened to do the Frenchmen—taking me for one of them.

“Lauk, Master Merry, if I had a done it,” he exclaimed, when he discovered his mistake.

I did not speak, but popping on the hatch, secured it before our captives could make a rush to get out. It was breathless work, it may be believed—indeed, I even to this day feel almost out of breath when I think of it. Leaving Billy at the post he had guarded so well, I ran back to the companion-hatch, inside of which we could hear the men working away with most disagreeable vigour.

“Oh dear! oh dear!” exclaimed Grey over and over again. “If we could but speak French, we could tell the men what we would do if they would behave themselves.”

“But, as we cannot, we must show them what we will do if they don’t,” I rejoined. “We must get them on deck somehow or other, for if we keep them much longer below they will die, I am afraid. It is hot up here—it must be ten times worse in that close hold.”

“I’ll tell you, then,” he answered. “We must keep our loaded pistols in our hands, and get up one at a time through the companion-hatchway. If more than one attempts to come, we must shoot him; there’s no help for it. It will be a long process, but I suppose those who first come will tell the others how we treat them, and they will be content to wait.”

“We must have some water, then, for they will be terribly thirsty,” said I. “And we must have a good supply of lashings ready, to secure them.”

We accordingly unrove all the running rigging that could be spared, and cut it into lengths, and then, leaving Billy Wise as sentry at his former post, we rolled two water casks over the main hatch, adding a spare sail and spars, so that there was little danger of its being forced. We all then collected round the after hatch. We slipped back the hatch sufficiently far to allow of one man passing through at a time, then, holding our pistols so that those below might see them, we beckoned to the Frenchmen to come up. At first, from having discovered probably the way that Billy Wise had treated their countryman, they were unwilling to take advantage of our invitation, which was not to be wondered at. I ordered the men to take care lest they might fire up at us, for I suspected some treachery.

“Come along, mounseers, come along; we won’t hurt ye,” said Ned Bambrick, the best man with us; indeed, there was not a better in the ship, though certain wild pranks in which he had indulged had prevented him from becoming a petty officer. “Come along, now, we’ll treat ye as if ye was all sucking babies.”

Though the Frenchmen did not understand the words addressed to them, the tone of his voice somewhat reassured them, and at last one ventured up. We immediately seized him by the arms, hauled him out, and shut to the hatch, greatly to the disappointment of those who were following. The Frenchman, who was a sailor, looked dreadfully frightened, and began to struggle violently, expecting probably that we were going to throw him overboard. We had, however, his arms very soon lashed behind him, and we then gave him water, and pointed to his shipmates sitting quietly round the side. He was once more satisfied, and we then signed to him, as well as we could, that he was to tell his companions below that no harm would happen to them. We concluded that he did so, for after he had shouted down the hatchway, another cautiously lifted his head above the coaming. He gave a cry as we seized hold of him, but we quickly had him up, and treated like the other. In the same way we got up a dozen, the last showing clear signs of having suffered most. At length a nearly bald head appeared, with a silver plate covering part of it, on which I read the word “Arcole,” and then the high narrow forehead, gaunt cheeks, and thin body of the old colonel slowly emerged from the cabin. He looked round with a confused expression on his countenance, as if not very certain what had happened; but, before he had had much time for consideration, Ned Bambrick politely took him by the hand, and helped him to step out on deck. When he found himself seized to be pinioned, he looked very indignant, and struggled to get loose, but we had the ropes round his arms in a moment. As a compliment, however, we secured him to the mainmast, with a heap of sail-cloth to sit on. He made so many extraordinary grimaces that even poor Toby, who was sitting opposite to him, in spite of his suffering, burst into a fit of laughter. Grey and I had, however, just then too much to do to laugh. There were still nearly twenty men below, enough to overpower us and to release their countrymen, so it was necessary to be as cautious as at first. From the horrible effluvium which came rushing up the hatchway each time the hatch was slid off, we might have known that the men who had to exist in it long were not likely to be very difficult to manage. In those days midshipmen, at all events, knew nothing of hydrogen and oxygen, and that human beings could not exist without a certain supply of the latter. A few more climbed slowly up. We thought that they were shamming, and treated them like the rest. At last no more appeared.

“What can they be about?” I asked of Grey. Then we heard some groans.

“What shall we do?” said Grey.

“I’ll tell you, sir, I’ll go below and find out,” exclaimed Ned Bambrick.

It was the only way of solving the difficulty. We put on the companion-hatch, and lifted off the main hatch. We were nearly knocked down with the abominable odour which arose as we did so. Notwithstanding this, Ned sprang down into the hold. He groped about for half a minute, when he sang out, “Send a whip down and get these fellows on deck, or they’ll be dead altogether.”

We lowered the end of a rope, and ran up the men one after another, as he made them fast to it. They were in a very exhausted condition; but the fresh air, though it was still very hot, and the water we poured down their throats, soon revived them, and we had to lash their arms behind them, as we had the others. During this time Billy Wise volunteered to go down and assist Ned. We had hoisted up ten or a dozen when they both declared that they could find no more, so we took all the hatches off to ventilate the vessel, not forgetting to throw overboard the corpse of the poor fellow whose head Billy’s cutlass had cut off. Billy wanted to keep the head as a trophy, but we did not approve of that, and made him pitch it after the body.

“Well, now I hope you’ll find each other,” observed Billy, with perfect gravity, as he did so.

It had certainly a very odd appearance to see our forty prisoners arranged round the vessel, with the colonel at the mainmast and the man we supposed to be the master at the foremast. We had, however, to wait on them, and to carry them water and food. Grey and I agreed that, though it was a very honourable thing to command a ship, we should be very glad to be relieved of the honour. Since we captured the vessel we had not had a moment to take any food. Hunger made us rather inclined to despond. We, however, found out what was the matter with us, and sent Billy Wise down into the cabin to forage. He soon returned with some biscuit and white cheese, and dried plums and raisins, and a few bottles of claret, but there was no honest cold beef or rum.

“It’s no wonder we licked the Johnny Crapeaus when that’s the stuff they feeds on,” observed Ned Bambrick, turning over the food with a look of contempt.

However, he and the rest stowed away no small amount of the comestibles, notwithstanding his contempt for them. When, however, he came to the liquid, tossing off the contents of a bottle, he made a woefully wry face and exclaimed,—

“Billy, my boy, we must have a full cask of this on deck—a chap must drink a bucket or two before he finds out he has taken anything. It’s vinegar and water, to my mind.”

Grey and I took a few glasses of the wine. It did not taste so bad, especially in that hot weather, but we fancied that there was but little strength in it. As the men required refreshment, we did not object to their taking as much as they fancied. Persuaded by Bambrick, Billy went below, and soon sang out that he had found a cask of the same stuff as that in the bottles. A whip was sent below. A cask was hoisted on deck, and found to contain what was undoubtedly claret. When the old colonel saw it he shrieked out something about “monsieur le gouverneur.”

“Well, Mounzeer Governor! here’s to your health, then,” said Bambrick, draining off a mugful of the claret, which had been quickly tapped. “This is better tipple than the other. Here, old boy, you shall have a glass, to see if we can’t put a smile into that ugly mug of yours.”

The old soldier seemed not at all to object to the wine which Ned poured down his throat, and he smacked his lips as if he would like some more. Fortunately Grey and I now tasted the claret, and though we were no great judges of wine, we knew enough to ascertain that it was remarkably fine and strong; and moreover we discovered, by the way Ned and Billy and the rest began to talk, that they had had enough, if not too much of it already.

“It was unwise of us to let them have any at all,” observed Grey. “How we shall keep them from it I do not know; and if they get drunk, as they certainly will if they have much more, the chances are the Frenchmen will take the vessel from us.”

“We must knock the head in,” I answered. “It is our only security. I know from experience, that if seamen can by any means get hold of liquor, they will do so at all risks, and that they are in no way particular what it is.”

“It will be better to serve it out to the prisoners,” said Grey. “If we appeal to these men’s kind feelings they will do it, and if there is more than enough we must leave the spile out.”

Bambrick and Billy, and the other men, were perfectly ready to do as we proposed. When the old colonel saw what we were doing he again shrieked out about the Governor, but this did not prevent the men from serving out the wine. It only made Bambrick turn round and say:

“All right, Mr Governor, you shall have some more, old boy.”

He took care, at all events, that the old gentleman should have enough, for he gave him the greater portion of the contents of a jug.

We waited till nearly all the men were served, and then Grey pulled out the spile, and a good deal ran out. He had to put it in before the men returned for their last supply. Still, for fear that too much might remain, he kicked away the block of wood which kept it in its place, and then rolling over the cask, it was emptied of its remaining contents. I must do our fellows the justice to say that they treated the prisoners as they would like to have been treated themselves, and gave them as much wine as they would drink. The only difference was that they would have drunk five times as much as the Frenchmen, and not have been the worse for it.

They were rather inclined to grumble when they found that there was no more. I saw that it was time to exert my authority.

“You’ve done very well, lads,” I exclaimed. “But suppose you were all to get drunk, what would the Frenchmen do with us, I should like to know? Shall I tell you? They would manage to wriggle themselves free, and heave us all overboard. If we don’t want to disgrace ourselves, let us keep what we’ve got. Not another drop of liquor does anyone have aboard here till we fall in with the frigate.”

My speech appeared to have some effect, and I took care to give all hands ample employment, that they might not think of the liquor. As it was, by the springy way in which they moved about the deck, and the harangues uttered by Ned Bambrick on every trivial occasion, I saw that they had already had quite enough for our safety. Night was now approaching, but still the frigate was nowhere to be seen. Grey went aloft, and took an anxious look round.

“Not a sign of her,” he said, as he returned on deck.

Darkness came on. All hands were naturally feeling very sleepy, but with so many prisoners to guard, even though their hands were lashed behind them, it was necessary for us to keep awake. However, Grey and I agreed that—if we were rested and brisk we could do more than if we were worn out—it would be best for us to take a little sleep at intervals, and allow one or two of the men to sleep at the same time. One man was at the helm, and two others kept walking up and down the deck, with pistols in their hands and cutlasses ready for use. Grey lay down first. He slept so soundly that I did not like to call him. The night was dark, but the prisoners were quiet, and there was but little wind; even that little had died away. I did not altogether like the look of the weather. The heat was very great, and though it was calm then, I knew that it was not far off the hurricane season, and I thought if we were to be caught in a hurricane how greatly our difficulties would be increased, even if we were not lost altogether. After a time Grey started up of his own accord. The instant I lay down on the after part of the deck I was asleep. It appeared to me that I had scarcely closed my eyes, when I was aroused by shouts and cries. I started up, fully persuaded that the Frenchmen were loose and upon us. The sounds appeared to come from the hold. As I ran to the main hatchway I heard a noise of scuffling and struggling, and a voice shouting “Oh, Master Merry, Master Grey, the ghosteses have got hold of me, the ghosteses have got hold of me.” Looking into the hold, I saw, by the light of a lanthorn, Billy Wise struggling with two Frenchmen, while, forward, Grey and one of our men were, I discovered rather by my ears than by sight, engaged with another of the prisoners, who had apparently worked himself loose. Ned Bambrick had started to his feet at the moment that I did. Together we leaped down below. We were not an instant too soon. Billy was almost overpowered, and as there were some cutlasses at hand, the Frenchmen might have armed themselves and killed us while we were asleep. Bambrick knocked one over with a blow of his fist, and the other was easily managed. Where they had come from we could not tell. They were none of those who had appeared on deck, and must have been concealed very cleverly when we sent down to search below. It was a lesson to Grey and me ever after to go and look ourselves when a search of importance was to be made. While Bambrick and Billy held the men down, I ran for some rope, with which we made them fast pretty tightly to some stanchions between decks. Grey and his companion had in the meantime re-secured the prisoner who had managed nearly to release himself, and we then made a more careful search than before through every part of the vessel. We had pretty well satisfied ourselves that no one else was stowed away below, when a loud cry, and finding the vessel suddenly heeling over, made us spring on deck. A squall had struck her. I did not expect to see her recover herself. Everything was flying away; yards were cracking, the sails in shreds fluttering in the gale; the masts were bending as if about to go over the side; blocks were falling from aloft; ropes slashing and whipping furiously; the water was rushing in through the lee scuppers half up the deck, and nearly drowning the unfortunate Frenchmen sitting there, who were shrieking out in dismay, believing that their last moments had come. Ned Bambrick sprang aft and put up the helm: the after canvas was chiefly off her; she had gathered way, and now answering her helm, she flew before it. Never had I been in such a scene of confusion, increased by the roaring of the wind, the shrieks of the prisoners, the rattling of the blocks and ropes, the cracking of spars, and the loud slush of the water as it rushed about the deck. What had become of Grey I could not tell. It was too dark now to distinguish anyone. I called: he did not answer. A horrid feeling seized me. He must have been knocked overboard. I called again in despair. At that moment it would have been a matter of indifference to me if the Frenchmen had risen and taken the vessel from us. A faint voice answered me. It was that of Toby Bluff. “He was there, sir, but just now.”

I had been standing on the weather side. I slid down to leeward, for I saw some one there. I grasped hold of the person, and hauled him up. It was Grey. When the vessel was first struck, he had been knocked over by the tiller, which he must have just taken, believing that there was to be but a slight breeze. He had been half stunned and half drowned. He speedily, however, to my great joy, recovered. I now mustered all hands, most of whom had been sent sprawling in among the Frenchmen, who kicked and bit at them, they declared, but which Grey and I did not believe to be the fact. We now set to work to get the ship to rights. We squared yards as well as we could, furled the remnant of the canvas, and set a close-reefed fore-topsail, under which the little vessel ran on very comfortably. Our chief concern was, that we were, as we thought, running away from the frigate. None of us felt disposed to go to sleep again, so we kept a bright look-out, not knowing whether we might not be hurrying directly on to a coral reef, or another island. The wind, however, soon began to go down, and I was proposing to Grey to haul up again, when Billy Wise, who was stationed forward, sang out—

“Starboard—starboard the helm—or we shall run down the frigate!”

Sure enough, in half a minute, we were gliding by close under her stern. A voice from the deck hailed us.

“What schooner is that?”

“The —, I don’t know her name—prize to the second cutter of His Majesty’s frigate Doris,” I answered. “We’ve a heap of prisoners, and I don’t know what to do with them!”

“Heave-to, and we will send a boat on board,” was shouted in return.

Day was just breaking, and the increasing light enabled us to manage better than we could otherwise have done. We had now less fear of our enemies breaking loose, so all hands were able to assist in getting some after sail on the vessel, and bringing her up to the wind.

“Now we shall catch it for all this,” said Grey, as we saw the boat pulling towards us from the frigate.

“I hope not,” said I. “At all events, we must make the best of it. There’s Mr Fitzgerald in the boat. We’ll get him to stand our friend.”

“Well, boys, this is a nate piece of work you’ve been after doing now!” remarked our handsome second lieutenant, as he surveyed the deck. “You don’t mean to say that you captured all these heroes?”

“Every one of them, sir,” said Grey, with perfect seriousness. “I hope the captain won’t be angry.”

“There’s no saying. However, we’ll see,” he answered with a smile.

We now made more sail, and ran in close under the lee of the frigate.

Perigal was sent on board the schooner to take charge of her, and the prisoners were transferred to the deck of the frigate, where the captain and most of the officers were assembled. Mr Johnson met me. He had just time to say, “I congratulate you, Mr Merry. You’ve done well. You are worthy of my teaching!” when the prisoners were summoned aft.

We had given the old colonel his sword, that he might present it in due form. He marched aft at the head of his men, and presented it to Captain Collyer with a profound bow.

The Captain then addressed him. I was afterwards told what he said. It was—

“I am surprised, monsieur, that you, an experienced soldier, who have seen much service, should allow yourself and your men to be captured by a single boat’s crew and two midshipmen.”

“Ma foi!” exclaimed the colonel, with an inimitable shrug of his shoulders, and an indescribable expression of countenance, indicative of intense disgust. “I am a brave man; I fear nothing—mais c’est ce terrible mal de mer!” (this terrible sea-sickness.)

I do not know what Captain Collyer said in return, but I fancy he did not pay the colonel any compliments on his gallantry. (I only hope that Frenchmen, on other occasions, may have their valour cooled down to zero by that terrible sea-sickness.) Grey and I were very agreeably surprised when, instead of being reprimanded for what we had done, the captain praised us very much for the daring way in which we had taken the schooner. Mr Fitzgerald had told him all the particulars beforehand. Somebody, however, was to blame for having taken the arms in the boat. All the men, however, declared that they knew nothing about it, but that the getting them in had been entirely managed by Ned Dawlish, who, being dead, could say nothing in his defence, and was therefore found guilty. The truth was, that the captain was very well-pleased at what had been done, and was ready to overlook the disobedience of orders of which the men had been guilty.

Grey and I were in high feather. We dined that day with the captain, who complimented us on our exploit, and made us give him all the particulars. He told us that the carpenter, who had been sent on board to survey the schooner, had reported favourably of her, and that he proposed to employ her as a tender, while the frigate was refitting at Port Royal.

As it was necessary to get rid of our prisoners, a course was steered at once for Jamaica, so that we might land them there. We found, after a little time, that the French colonel was not a bad old fellow. I really believe that he was as brave as most men, and that he had spoken the truth when he said that “le mal de mer had overcome him.” Probably most of his men were in the same condition. Grey and I did not forget our resolution to try and learn French, and as one of the mates, Duncan McAllister, could speak a little, we begged him to ask the old colonel if he would teach us. He replied that he would do so gladly, and would teach any one else who wished to learn. Indeed our proposal was ultimately of great service to him, for when he got on shore, and was admitted as a prisoner on his parole, he gained a very comfortable livelihood by teaching French. I afterwards heard that, when the war was over, he declined going back to la belle France, and settled among his friends the English. It is just possible, that the way in which he had allowed himself and his thirty men to be taken by us had something to do with this decision.

The colonel’s name was, I remember, Painchaud, which is translated Hotbread,—a funny name, which I never met elsewhere. We invited him into the berth to give his lessons, but we had to clear away several boxes and hampers to afford him space to stretch his legs under the table. As he sat on the narrow locker with his bald head touching the deck above, his elbows resting on the table, and his long legs stretched out to the other side of the berth, while we youngsters in every variety of attitude grouped ourselves round him, he looked like some antiquated Gulliver among a party of rather overgrown Lilliputians. At first he had a considerable number of pupils, but it was very evident that they assembled more for the sake of trying if any fun could be found, than with any serious intention of learning French. We had forgotten when we had made our proposal that books would be necessary to enable us to make any progress in the language, but not a French work of any sort was to be procured on board, still less a grammar. At length the colonel produced two from his valise. They were, I have reason to believe, not such as would have tended to our edification; but happily, in the then state of our knowledge of the language in which they were written, they were not likely to hurt our morals. As we had no grammar, the colonel made us understand that he wanted paper and pens and ink; and then he wrote out words, and intimated to us that we were to repeat them after him. He would take the hand of one of his pupils and exclaim “main,” and make each of us repeat it after him. Then he would seize an ear and cry out “oreille,” and pretty hard he pinched too. If any of us cried out, it evidently afforded him infinite amusement. We, of course, gave him the name which he always afterwards kept, of Colonel Pinchard. When any of his pupils pronounced the word wrongly, it was highly amusing to watch the wonderful way in which his shoulders went up and his head sank down between them. No English pair of shoulders could have behaved in the same way; nor could certainly any English mouth have rolled out the extraordinary expletives with which he was wont to give force to his sentiments. His great delight was, however, pulling Grey’s and my ears, which, we agreed, was in revenge for taking him prisoner. One day he wrote downnez, and asked me what it meant. I replied by a loud neigh like a horse. The rest of the party took the joke and laughed, as I intended they should; but he, not understanding the cause of this, and thinking that they were laughing at him, seized my nose and gave it a tweak, which made me fancy he was pulling it off. In the impulse of the moment I sprang on the table, and seizing his nasal promontory, hauled away at it with hearty goodwill, and there we sat, he sending forth with unsurpassable rapidity a torrent of “Sa–c–r–r–és,” which almost overwhelmed me; neither of us willing to be the first to let go. At last, from sheer exhaustion and pain, we both of us fell back. I might have boasted of the victory, for, though I felt acute pain, my nose did not alter its shape, while the Frenchman’s swelled up to twice its usual proportions. The contest, however, very nearly put an end to our French lessons. However, as our master was really a good-natured man, he was soon pacified, and we set to work again as before.

Chapter Ten.We made wonderful progress with our French, in spite of our want of books. Indeed, I have reason to believe that information attained under difficulties, is not only acquired more rapidly, but most certainly more completely mastered, than with the aid of all the modern appliances of education, which, like steam-engines at full speed, haul us so fast along the royal road to knowledge, that we have no time to take in half the freight prepared for us. We found, too, that the old colonel knew considerably more about English than we had at first suspected, and at last we ascertained that he had before been captured, and shut up in a prison in England. He did not seem to have any pleasing recollections of that period of his existence. One day, after we had annoyed him more than usual with our pranks, and stirred up his bile, he gave vent to his feelings—“Ah, you bêtes Anglais,” he exclaimed. “You have no sympathé vid des misérables. Vous eat ros beef vous-mêmes, and vous starve vosprisonniers.”He then went on gravely to assure us, that when the inspector of prisons one day rode into the yard of the prison, and left his horse there while he entered the building, the famished prisoners rushed out in a body and surrounded the animal. Simultaneously they made a rush at the poor beast, and stabbed it with their knives. In an instant it was skinned, cut up, and carried off piecemeal. When the inspecting officer came back, he found only the stirrups and bit and hoofs. The prisoners were busily occupied cooking their dinners, and had already produced most delicious fricassees, so that the English officer could not believe that they were formed out of the animal on whose back he had galloped up to the prison not an hour before.“That’s pretty well up to one of Mr Johnson’s yarns,” observed Grey to me. “I wish the old fellow could understand him; the boatswain would take the shine out of him I suspect.”“Bah, dat is noting,” said the colonel. “I vill tell you many more curieuse tings. You talk much of de Anglish ladies. Vel, des are passablement bien; but des all get dronk ven des can. Je sais bien vy des go upstairs before de gentlehommes!—it is dat des may drink at dere ease. Ha, ha, dat is vot des do; you drink downstairs, des drink upstairs.”“Come, come, Monsieur colonel,” exclaimed Duncan McAllister, starting up and striking his fist on the table. “Ye may tell what crammers ye like and welcome, but if ye dare to utter your falsehoods about the ladies of Scotland and England, matrons or maids, prisoner though you be, I’ll make your two eyes see brighter lightning than has come out of them for many a day; and if ye want satisfaction, ye shall have as much as ye can get out of a stout ash stick. Vous comprennez, don’t ye?”The colonel shrugged his shoulders, and wisely said nothing. Though he did not understand all McAllister’s remarks, he saw that he had gone too far, and that it would be wiser in future, whatever might have been his belief, not to utter any remarks disparaging to the women of England among a party of English sailors.“I dinna think that colonel ever did a bolder thing than brave a litter of young lions in their den,” exclaimed McAllister, who, for some especial reason, held France and Frenchmen in utter detestation and abhorrence, though he knew more of their language than most of us.We did not mind the poor old colonel’s stories, for we remembered that he was a prisoner suffering from sea-sickness, and that he had no other way of venting his spleen.At length we reached Port Royal, and our prize under charge of Perigal arrived at the same time. Colonel Pinchard begged so hard that he might stay on board while the frigate remained in harbour, that in consideration of the instruction he was affording the youngsters he was allowed to do so.“Ah, I do like de ship ven she stay tranquil,” he exclaimed, spreading out his hands horizontally, and making them slowly move round. “But ven she tumble bout, den,” he put his hands on his stomach, exhibiting with such extraordinary contortions of countenance the acuteness of his sensations, that we all burst into hearty fits of laughter.Indeed the colonel was a never failing source of amusement to us. From the wonderfully prolonged cackles in which he indulged, he also evidently enjoyed the jokes himself. The schooner, which required but little refitting, was soon ready for sea. It was understood that Perigal was to have the command, and Grey and I hoped to be allowed to accompany him. The captain had not as yet let us know his intentions. We should have been ready enough, probably, to have spent our time on shore; but as we should have but little chance of that, we fancied that we should prefer sailing in search of adventures on the ocean. There are few more beautiful spots on the earth’s surface than Jamaica, with its exquisite verdure, its lofty hills, known as the Blue Mountains, its round-topped heights covered with groves of pimento, its vast savannahs or plains, its romantic vales, its rivers, bays, and creeks, and its dense and sombre forests, altogether forming one of the most lovely of tropical pictures.Entering the harbour, we had Port Royal on the starboard hand, at the end of a long spit of land called the Palisades. On the opposite side of the narrow entrance was Rock Fort, just under a lofty hill, and as the batteries of Fort Charles at Port Royal bristled with guns, while those of Fort Augusta faced us with an equal number, we agreed that an enemy would find it no easy task to enter the harbour.The dockyard was at Port Royal, opposite which we brought up. The Palisades run parallel with the mainland, thus forming a vast lagoon, not running inland, but along the coast as it were. Towards the upper end, the commercial town, called Kingston, with its commodious harbour, is situated. Some way inland, again, is Spanish Town, the capital, where the residence of the Governor and the House of Assembly are to be found. It is a very hot place, and the yellow fever is more apt to pay it a second visit than strangers who have once been there, if they can help it.The admiral on the Jamaica station lives on shore, at a house called the Admiral’s pen, on the Palisades, whence he commands a view of the harbour, roadstead, and the ocean. He is better off than the Governor, because he does get the sea breeze, which is the best preventive to the yellow fever. It takes an hour or more pulling up from Port Royal to Kingston, the distance being five or six miles or more. Spellman once induced me to ride round along the Palisades, but we agreed that we would never do it again; for, as it was a calm day, and the rays of the sun beat down on the white sands, we were very nearly roasted alive, and how we escaped a sunstroke I do not know. From what I have said, it will be understood that Port Royal harbour is a very large sheet of water, and what with the shipping, the towns and ports on its shores, and the lofty mountains rising up in its neighbourhood, is a very picturesque place.We had not been there long, when yellow jack, as the yellow fever is called, made its appearance, both at Kingston and Port Royal, and all visits to the shore were prohibited. Grey and I, therefore, had to make ourselves as happy on board as we could, till we received our expected orders to join the schooner. We had not had a yarn for some time from Mr Johnson. One evening, when work was over, we found him walking the forecastle, taking what he called his sunset food shaker, in a more than usually thoughtful mood. As Grey, Spellman, and I, with one or two others, went up to him, he heaved a sigh, which sounded not altogether unlike the roar of a young bull.“What is the matter, Mr Johnson?” I asked, approaching him. “You seem melancholy to-day.”“I have cause to be so, Mr Merry; I have indeed,” he answered, in a tone of deep pathos, again sighing. “Whenever I look on the blue waters of this harbour, and those whitewashed houses, and those lofty mountains, I think of a strange and sad episode of my eventful history.”Of course we all exclaimed with one voice, “Do tell it to us, Mr Johnson!” To which I added, “If it would not break your heart, we should so like to hear it.”“Break my heart, Mr Merry!” exclaimed the boatswain, striking his bosom with his open palm, and making it sound like the big drum in a regimental band. I could not help fancying that there was a considerable amount of humour lurking in the corner of his eye.“Break my heart! Jonathan Johnson’s heart is formed of tougher stuff than to break with any grief it may be doomed to bear. You shall hear. But it strikes me forcibly, young gentlemen, that it may be as well to finish one part of my history before I begin another. Who can tell where I left off?”“You were just going to be swallowed by the big sea-serpent, Mr Johnson; ship, and crew, and all,” said Grey.“It would be more correct, Mr Grey, to say that you believed we were going to be swallowed up; because you will understand that had we been swallowed up, I should not, in all human probability, be here, or ever have attained the rank of boatswain of His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Doris,” said Mr Johnson, with a polite bend of the head. “However, not to keep you longer in suspense, I will continue my narrative:—“The good ship Diddleus was bowling away under all sail, and the sea-serpent, with mouth agape, following us. It’s my opinion, and others agreed with me, that if he’d kept his mouth shut he would have caught us; for the hot wind coming out of his throat filled our sails, just as if it had been blowing a heavy gale of wind, and drove us ahead of him; but he was too eager, do you see, and thought every moment he was going to grab us. We guessed that he had been aroused at finding his back smart from the scratch we made in it. We thus ran on till daybreak, keeping ahead, but not dropping him as much as we could have wished. It was very awful, let me tell you, young gentlemen, to see his big rolling eyes, to feel his hot breath, to smell a smell of sulphur, and to hear his loud roaring. It was painfully evident that he was in a tremendous rage at the liberty we had taken with his back; and there was no doubt that had he come up with us, he could have swallowed the ship and crew, and his own fat into the bargain, with as much ease as he swallowed the whale. If it was a terrific sight to see him at night, it was still worse in the daytime. His immense jaws were wide open, showing a dozen rows of teeth, while his large eyes projected on either side; and I don’t think I exaggerate when I say that the tip of his upper jaw was fully sixty feet above the surface of the water. As you all well know, young gentlemen, I am not a man to be daunted; so I loaded our stern-chasers, and kept blazing away at the monster, to make him turn aside, but to no effect. I trained the guns myself, and every shot went into his mouth; but he just rolled his eyes round, and swallowed them as if they were so many pills. It was a fine sight, though a terribly fearful one, I own, to see him coming along so steadily and stately, with the water curling and foaming under his bows, and flying high up into the air as he cut through it. It was neck or nothing with us; so we kept blazing away as fast as we could load. I confess that every moment I expected he would make a spring and grab us, just as an ordinary fish does the bait held over him; but it was necessary that I should set an example of coolness to my crew; and, under the circumstances, I believe that mortal man could not have been cooler. I could not hide from myself the consequences, should he catch us; and yet I scarcely dared to hope that we should escape. We had expended, at last, all our round-shot, and the greater part of our powder, and we had to load with bags of nails and any langrage we could find. We had half emptied the carpenter’s chest, and, except some copper bolts, there seemed to be nothing else we could fire off, when, by my calculations, I found that we were approaching the line. Life is sweet; and so, that we might keep off the fatal moment as long as possible, we determined to fire away as long as we had a tin-tack or a bradawl to put into our guns, when, on a sudden, he uttered a fierce roar—it did make us jump—and down went his head right under the water, and up went his tail like a huge pillar, when flop it came down again, sending the sea flying over us and very nearly pooping the ship. We felt very uncomfortable, for we naturally expected to see him come up alongside; but he didn’t, and two minutes afterwards we made him out close to the horizon, to the southward. It was my opinion at the time—and I have held it ever since—that either he did not like the mouthful of big nails and bradawls he swallowed, or that he had some objection to crossing the line from not knowing the navigation on the other side. At all events, we were clear of him. We had a quick run to Liverpool, where the oil sold at a very high price, and I got a monstrous amount of credit from all who believed my wonderful narrative. As is always the case, some didn’t, in spite of the oil I exhibited in proof of the occurrence; but I treated the incredulous fellows with the scorn they deserved, and from that day to this, I’ll answer for it, no one has ever caught sight of so much as the tail of the real sea-serpent.”“Vell, Mistre Johnson, dat is von very vondeful, vot you call it!” exclaimed Colonel Pinchard, who had joined us.“A big, thundering bouncer!” cried a voice from behind the boatswain’s back. He turned sharply round, but did not discover the speaker. He shook his fist in that direction, however, with a comic expression in his eye, saying—“Bouncer or no bouncer, mister whoever you are, I beg that you’ll understand clearly, that I will allow no man, whoever he may be, to labour under the misapprehension that I ever depart one tenth of a point from the strict line of truth; and that reminds me that I promised you, Mr Merry, and you, Mr Grey, to narrate an event which occurred during the next voyage I made. I wasn’t long in finding a ship, for the certificates with which the owners of the Diddleus had furnished me were highly satisfactory; in fact, merit like mine couldn’t, in those days, languish in obscurity; though, by the bye, I ought not exactly to sing my own praises; but when a man has a due consciousness of his own superior talents, the feeling will ooze out now and then, do all he can to conceal it. Things are altered now: merit’s claims are no longer allowed, or I should be living on shore now.” Mr Johnson pointed significantly at the Admiral’s pen.“Ah! oui! I vonce read of von great man, Sinbad de Sailor, and von oder man, Captain Lemuel Gulliver. You vary like dem gentlemen,” observed Colonel Pinchard, with the politest of bows, to the boatswain.“Sinbad! and Gulliver!” shouted the boatswain indignantly. “If there are two fellows whose names I hate more than others, they are those. Take them all in all, I consider them, without exception, the biggest liars who have ever lived; and if there is a character I detest more than another, it is that of a man who departs in the slightest degree from the truth; no one can longer have confidence in what he says: and, for my own part, I’d rather lose my right hand, and my head into the bargain, than have the shadow of a reason for supposing that the words I was uttering would run the remotest chance of not being implicitly believed.”The boatswain’s eye kept rolling round on his auditory with a self-satisfied glance, and a twinkle withal, as much as to say, “You I care about understand me perfectly, and if there are any geese who don’t, they are welcome to swallow all they can digest.”“Ah! I had just found a fresh ship. She was the Lady Stiggins, a fine brig, well armed, and bound round Cape Horn. We had a somewhat roving commission, and were first to touch out here at Jamaica, and one or two others of these gems of the tropics—these islands, full of sugar-candy and blackamoors.“I was not at first a favourite with the crew, for not having had an opportunity of testing my qualifications, but having heard some of my veracious narratives, they were inclined to look upon me as an empty braggadocio, a character they very naturally despised; but I soon gave them reason to alter their opinion, when I was quickly raised to that position in their estimation which I ever after enjoyed.“We were about a day’s sail from this same harbour of Port Royal, and were expecting to make the land next morning, when it fell calm. It was the hottest time of the year. The sun sent his rays down on our heads as if he were a furnace a few yards off, making the pitch in the seams of our decks bubble and squeak, like bacon in a frying-pan; and I remember that a basket of eggs in the cabin were hatched in a few minutes, and looking up from a book I was reading, I saw a whole brood of chickens and ducks squattering about the deck, not knowing where they’d come from, or what to do with themselves. The chickens, however, soon went to roost in a corner, for it was too hot to keep awake, and the ducks waddled up on deck, and were making the best of their way over the vessel’s side into the element in which they delight, when we turned them into a water-butt, which contented them mightily.“But this was not the story I was going to tell you. Everyone on board felt like the ducks and chickens, overcome by the heat; so that at last, not considering the risk they ran, many of the men stripped off their clothes and jumped overboard.“I, however, kept mine on, and so did several others. The fact was, that we had only, in that hot weather, to give ourselves a shake, and to turn once round in the sun, and we were dry through and through.“We had frolicking and swimming about for some time, enjoying the comparatively cool water, though, for the matter of that, it was pretty well hot enough to boil a lobster, when suddenly our ears were assailed with a terrific cry of ‘A shark! a shark!’“The outside man was a fine young fellow, Tom Harding by name. The poor fellow saw his danger, for the shark was making directly for him. I sang out to him not to be afraid, but to swim as fast as he could towards the ship, and he didn’t require to be told twice. Meantime I was making a circle round, so as to approach the beast in the rear; for, as you all know, I am a first-rate swimmer, and I never heard of the man who could keep up with me. Why, I once swam from Dover to Calais, and back again, for a wager, and danced a hornpipe on the top of Shakespeare’s cliff, to the astonishment of all who saw me—but that’s neither here nor there.”“Vel, I vonder de shark did not eat you,” observed the colonel, with a grin.“Eat me, mounseer! I should like to see the shark who would venture to attempt it, unless he found me snoozing on the top of a wave,” exclaimed the boatswain, in a tone of pretended indignation. “If it hadn’t been for me, however, he would have bolted Tom Harding, and no mistake. Well, Tom was swimming for dear life, and all the rest of the crew were scrambling up the side of the vessel, thinking that it was all over with both of us, when I saw the monster turn on his back, his white belly shining in the sun, as he made a grab at Tom’s leg. It was now time for me to interfere; so, striking out with all my might, I seized the shark by the tail, and slewing him round, just as he expected to make a mouthful of Tom, he missed his aim, and his jaws met with a crack which sounded like the report of a hundred muskets. Tom gave a shriek, for he thought—as well he might—that his last hour had come; but, still more from instinct than from any hope of escape, he swam on, and was very much surprised to find himself alongside the ship. In fact, when he was hauled on deck, it was some time, I was told, before he could be persuaded that he hadn’t lost both his legs, so firmly convinced was he that the shark had got hold of them.“I meantime kept a taut hold of the fish, who was whisking about his tail, and snapping his jaws in his disappointment; and hard work I had, you may depend on’t. As he went one way I pulled the other, and acting like a rudder, brought him round again, till I worked him nearer and nearer to the ship. At last I got him alongside, and singing out for a rope, which was quickly hove to me, I passed it dexterously over his tail, and told the men on deck to haul it taut. He was thus partly secured, but the difficulty was to make his head fast, for I had no fancy to get within the power of his jaws. I should observe that he was the largest shark I ever saw. I was almost despairing of securing him, when one of the men, Bill Jones, I remember, was his name, made fast a big hook with a lump of pork to the topgallant halyards, and hove it before him. The shark grabbed it in a moment, and we had him fast. Those on deck had just before been endeavouring to pass a rope under his head, and this now slipped up and caught in his jaws. No sooner did he feel the iron in his mouth, than, darting forward, away he went ahead of the vessel. As I sprang on deck the idea struck me that I would make him of use. There was no great difficulty, for, passing another line over his jaws, we had a regular pair of reins on him. One end of the line was brought in on the starboard and the other on the larboard bow port, while the hook in the nose served to bring him sharp up, when he ran too fast. No sooner were these arrangements made than away he went at a rapid pace ahead, towing us at the rate of at least six knots an hour—I like always to be under the mark, for fear of being thought guilty of exaggeration. By hauling in, now on one side, now on the other, we managed to steer him very well on our proper course.“The calm continued, but on we glided through the water, to the inexpressible astonishment of the crews of several craft we passed, who, of course, thought the Lady Stiggins must be the Flying Dutchman. As we entered the harbour, the surprise of people on shore was equally great; and no sooner did we drop our anchor than the brig was surrounded by boats full of people, eager to hear an explanation of the phenomenon. They could scarcely credit our assertions when we told them how we had got along, till we showed them the monster frisking about under the bows almost as tame and docile as a dog.“I had always a wonderful knack of managing pets of all sorts, and by kindly treating Jack Shark he became very fond of me, and whenever I went on shore, he would swim after the boat, and remain frolicking about near her till my return. At last I thought I would make him of use; so, rigging a pair of short reins, I slipped them over his jaws, and then jumped on his back. He understood in a moment what was expected of him, and away he went with me at a rapid rate through the water. After that, lighting my pipe quite comfortably, I invariably went on shore on his back, and throwing my reins over a post, I used to leave him till my return. You may depend on it, none of the little blackamoors ever played tricks with him.“There are many of the principal merchants and others at Kingston even now who would, young gentlemen, if you were to ask them, vouch for the truth of the circumstance. Just ask them, and hear what they’ll say. The curious part of it was, that though so tame with me, he would attack anybody else, and not a seaman from any of the ships dared to attempt swimming on shore as they had frequently before done. In fact he did swallow one or two; and I believe that he was voted a perfect nuisance, so that everyone was glad when we and our pet left the harbour to prosecute our voyage. Of course he followed us; and I used every morning to heave him a piece of pork for his breakfast, a few casks of which I bought cheap of a Jew on purpose. It was measly, but he didn’t mind that. And now I’m coming to the melancholy part of the history connected with my pet shark. But I have talked a good deal, and in this warm weather it’s an exertion even to use one’s jaws; so, young gentlemen, you must excuse me from continuing my veracious narrative for the present.”“Oh, do go on, Mr Johnson—do go on,” we all exclaimed; but the boatswain was inexorable, and, as it happened, it was some time before we heard the sequel to his history of the shark.The next day, Grey, and I, and Spellman were ordered to join the schooner with twenty hands. Perigal still kept command, and at the last moment McAllister came on board to act as his first-lieutenant, with the assistant-surgeon Macquoid, and a clerk, Bobus, as purser. Of course the schooner did not require so many officers and men to navigate her, but we hoped to take many prizes, and hands of course would be wanted to bring them home. We invited the old colonel to accompany us. With a most amusing grimace, and an inimitable shake of the head and shrugs of the shoulders, he answered,—“Ah, mes jeunes gentlemens, I do love vous va-a mosh; but de mer—de terrible mer. I do vish de verld ver von big earth and no vater.” So we had to leave the colonel and our French lessons behind; but we assured him that we would study hard during our absence. Good as were our intentions, it was not very likely that we could adhere to them, and, by the expression of his countenance, the colonel showed that he was strongly of that opinion.We sailed at daybreak, and had the land breeze to take us out of the harbour. Our course was to the southward, towards the well-known Spanish Main. Our schooner was the Espoir. She sailed well, and carried two eighteen-pounders and six long eights, so that we had every reason to hope that we should pick up some prizes, if we did not get taken ourselves. That last contingency did not occur to us. Though it was hot, and we were rather crowded in the cabin, we had a very pleasant time on board. We naturally messed together, and had secured all the good things from the shore, in the shape of fruits and vegetables, and poultry and liquor, which we could collect. It is very well for poets and authors to make their heroes contented with hard fare. I can only say that midshipmen are not, if they know that better is to be got; and I have observed, whenever I have been in the society of poets and other authors, that, practically, they have enjoyed a good dinner as much as any class of people could do, and been very much inclined to grumble if they did not get it, too. We were out some days without sighting a single sail, but we were not the less merry, living upon hope, and the good fare our caterer, Macquoid, had collected. At length a sail was seen, and chase made. It was some time before we could make out whether the stranger was a man-of-war or merchantman, a friend or foe. She was a brig we soon discovered, and when we saw her up helm and run off before the wind, we had no doubt as to her pacific character. Still she might be English, and, if so, we should have had our chase for nothing. She was a slow sailer, for we came up with her rapidly. We had showed no colours, and had got her within range of our long guns, when up went the French ensign. A cheer burst from our throats. It would have been more hearty if we had thought she had been armed. We showed our colours in return. On we stood, firing a shot wide of her as a signal for her to heave-to. She obeyed, and we heaving-to near her, McAllister, with Spellman and a boat’s crew, was sent to take possession. The boat was sent back with several of the French crew. The prize was not a rich one, but she was too valuable to be destroyed, so Perigal directed Spellman to take her to Jamaica, allowing him four hands. Miss Susan did not at all like having his cruise cut so short, but we congratulated him on the honour of having a separate command, being ourselves very well contented to continue on board the Espoir. For two days more we stood south, when, at daybreak, another sail was descried from the mast-head. She was a schooner, and from the squareness of her yards, her taut masts, and her white canvas, we suspected that, should she be an enemy, she would prove a very different sort of customer to the slow-sailing brig we had just before captured. That she was not afraid of us was very evident, for, throwing her head sails aback, she awaited our coming. In a short time we made out the French ensign flying at her peak, and we concluded that she was a privateer, probably with a large crew, and well armed. Perigal, on this, called all hands aft. “Now, my lads,” said he, “that craft is an enemy; very likely twice as many men dance on her decks as on ours; but they are Frenchmen, and I want to show that we are English, every one, to the backbone, and see how quickly we can take her. I have nothing more to say, except to tell you not to throw your shot away, and, if it comes to boarding, when you strike, strike home.” Three hearty cheers was the response to this address. The old mate was not much given to oratory, but, when he spoke, he never failed to speak to the purpose. Arms were served out, and pistols were stuck in belts, and cutlasses buckled on; muskets were loaded, and arranged in readiness for use; powder and round-shot were brought on deck, and the men, stripped to the waist, with handkerchiefs bound round their heads, stood ready for action. They looked as grim and determined a set as a commanding officer would wish to see; but still, jokes were bandied about, one from the other, and it did not seem to occur to any of them that, before another hour of time had slipped by, in all probability several might be numbered with the dead. Ned Bambrick was at the helm, with his eye cast ever and anon at the canvas, and then at the Frenchman, as we glided on rapidly towards him, just as cool and unconcerned as if he was standing up to speak to a friend. We had the weather-gauge, and Perigal resolved to keep it. Supposing the enemy superior to us in strength, it would give us an important and necessary advantage. To a sailor’s eye it was a pretty sight to see the two schooners approaching. The Espoir was a handsome craft, and so was her antagonist. We did not at first show our colours. No sooner, however, did we hoist them than the Frenchman filled his sails and tacked, in the hope of weathering on us, firing at the same time a gun of defiance. We suspected that he had not till then known exactly what to make of us, and possibly had taken us for a friend. However, the Frenchmen were now in for it, and, like brave men, were resolved to fight it out. We were now near enough for our long eights to tell, and the very first shot, flying high, knocked away the jaws of the enemy’s main gaff, wounding at the same time the head of the mainmast. At seeing this, a hearty cheer rose from all on board. It was a prognostic of success.“If we’d tried to do that same we could not have succeeded,” observed McAllister. “I say, Perigal, you must let me take that craft to Jamaica.”“With all my heart, my boy, when she’s ours; but it’s ill-luck to give away what doesn’t belong to us,” answered our skipper.“Never mind; but she will be before many minutes are over,” persisted McAllister. “Now, lads, just follow suit to that shot, and we’ll do for the mounseers in a very short time.”By this fortunate shot we had the enemy almost in our power. She ran off before the wind, and we soon came up with her, and hung on her quarter, so that she could rarely bring more than one gun at a time to bear on us. She had fired several shots without effect, but at last, to make amends, one came flying diagonally across our deck, taking off the head of one of our men, and knocking over a second, who survived but a few moments. A few more such fatal shots would sadly have thinned our numbers. The enemy had a good number of men on deck, but not so many as we expected. Some were sent aloft to try and repair the damage to the gaff, and this, as we had got within musket range, we did our best to prevent by keeping up a fire of small-arms at them. I had seized a musket, and with others was blazing away, not very effectually, for the men continued their work, and no one appeared to be hurt, when, just as I had fired, I saw a man drop stone dead upon the deck. It was my shot had done the deed. A sickening sensation came over me. I felt as if I had committed a murder. It would have been different had I hit one of the men at the guns, but the poor fellow was performing, so it seemed, but an ordinary piece of a seaman’s duty; my blood was cool, I did not feel that he was an enemy. Perhaps the idea was foolish; it did not last long. The rest of the men aloft were soon driven on deck, and shooting ahead, we ranged up alongside, and poured in the whole of our broadside. The enemy returned our fire, but our men worked their guns almost twice as quickly as the Frenchmen did, aiming much better, and the effect was soon apparent in their shattered bulwarks, decks strewed with slain, and torn sails.“Blaze away, lads,” shouted McAllister, as he went from gun to gun, pointing one, lending a hand to run out another, or to load a third.Still the gallant Frenchmen fought on. They were very unlike old Pinchard and his men; but there was this difference, they were sailors, whereas the others were soldiers, and it was themal de merin that instance deserved the credit of the victory more than we did. This close firing soon got our blood up, and I now felt anxious to run the enemy aboard, that we might be at them with our cutlasses. I have not often found Frenchmen foolhardy: they know when they are beaten. Englishmen don’t, and so sometimes stumble against all rule into victory. Just as Perigal had ordered Bambrick to put the helm to starboard, to run the enemy aboard, the French captain hauled down his flag, and, coming to the gangway, made us a profound bow, as an additional sign that he had struck. We immediately ceased firing, and as our boats had escaped damage, one was lowered, and McAllister and I went on board to take possession. We had certainly contrived in a short hour considerably to spoil the beauty of the French schooner, and dreadfully to diminish the number of her crew. Her brave captain and most of his officers were wounded, and six men were killed and ten wounded. Her captain received us on the quarter-deck, where he stood ready to deliver his sword with the greatest politeness, as if it was really a pleasant act he was performing, and assured us that it was the fortune de la guerre, and that he had learnt to yield to fortune without a murmur.“He really is one of the pleasantest Frenchmen I have ever met,” observed McAllister. “We must treat him with all consideration.”Curiously enough, this remark of my messmate kept continually running in my head, and I could not help repeating it. We had plenty to do to bury the dead, wash the decks, repair the masts, and spars, and bulwarks, and to splice the rigging, and bend fresh sails. McAllister was directed to go as prize-master, and I with Bambrick, Foley and four other hands accompanied him; some of the French crew were removed on board the Espoir, but the captain, two officers, and eight men remained with us as prisoners.Perigal had, in fact, already, more prisoners than his own crew now mustered. Our new prize was the Audacieuse, a larger vessel and better armed than the Espoir. By nightfall we had made great progress in getting the prize to rights, and as our own vessel had suffered but little, we were able to bestow all our strength upon her. Both Perigal and McAllister were very anxious to continue the cruise together. The objection to this was the number of our prisoners. Still, as McAllister argued, the commander of the prize, Lieutenant Préville was a very quiet sort of fellow, and the men left on board were orderly and well-behaved, so that he should have no difficulty in keeping them under.“But, remember, McAllister, that crews have sometimes risen against their captors, and retaken their vessels. It will be necessary to be very careful,” observed Perigal.“Oh, never fear, my old fellow; I should think that we seven Englishmen could keep a dozen or more Frenchmen in order,” answered McAllister, with a somewhat scornful laugh. “If we go into action, we will clap them under hatches, and they will be quiet enough, depend on that.”At length Perigal yielded, and the Audacieuse’s mast-head having been fished, and all other damages made good, we continued our cruise together. Lieutenant Préville was a gentleman, and really a very pleasant fellow; and, to show our appreciation of his good qualities, we invited him to live in his own cabin and to partake of the delicacies which he had laid in for his own especial use, which was generous on our part; and which conduct he did not fail to acknowledge by doing ample justice to the viands. He frequently, too, would tuck up his sleeves, and, going into the galley, would cook dishes, which I doubt that any Parisian chef could have surpassed.“Ah, ma foi,” he observed in French, when we complimented him on his success, “in my opinion a man has no right to claim the character of a civilised being, much less of a chef, unless he can produce a complete dinner from an old tom-cat and a bundle of nettle-tops. He should depend on the fire and the sources managed by his own skill. The rest of the materials are nothing. The fire brings everything to the same condition.” Certainly Lieutenant Préville managed to give us an infinite variety of dishes, to all appearance, the foundation of which, to the best of my belief, was salt pork, and beef of a very tough and dry nature. Of course, such a man would soon win his way into the good graces of far more stoical beings than English midshipmen are apt to be at present, or were in those good old days.

We made wonderful progress with our French, in spite of our want of books. Indeed, I have reason to believe that information attained under difficulties, is not only acquired more rapidly, but most certainly more completely mastered, than with the aid of all the modern appliances of education, which, like steam-engines at full speed, haul us so fast along the royal road to knowledge, that we have no time to take in half the freight prepared for us. We found, too, that the old colonel knew considerably more about English than we had at first suspected, and at last we ascertained that he had before been captured, and shut up in a prison in England. He did not seem to have any pleasing recollections of that period of his existence. One day, after we had annoyed him more than usual with our pranks, and stirred up his bile, he gave vent to his feelings—

“Ah, you bêtes Anglais,” he exclaimed. “You have no sympathé vid des misérables. Vous eat ros beef vous-mêmes, and vous starve vosprisonniers.”

He then went on gravely to assure us, that when the inspector of prisons one day rode into the yard of the prison, and left his horse there while he entered the building, the famished prisoners rushed out in a body and surrounded the animal. Simultaneously they made a rush at the poor beast, and stabbed it with their knives. In an instant it was skinned, cut up, and carried off piecemeal. When the inspecting officer came back, he found only the stirrups and bit and hoofs. The prisoners were busily occupied cooking their dinners, and had already produced most delicious fricassees, so that the English officer could not believe that they were formed out of the animal on whose back he had galloped up to the prison not an hour before.

“That’s pretty well up to one of Mr Johnson’s yarns,” observed Grey to me. “I wish the old fellow could understand him; the boatswain would take the shine out of him I suspect.”

“Bah, dat is noting,” said the colonel. “I vill tell you many more curieuse tings. You talk much of de Anglish ladies. Vel, des are passablement bien; but des all get dronk ven des can. Je sais bien vy des go upstairs before de gentlehommes!—it is dat des may drink at dere ease. Ha, ha, dat is vot des do; you drink downstairs, des drink upstairs.”

“Come, come, Monsieur colonel,” exclaimed Duncan McAllister, starting up and striking his fist on the table. “Ye may tell what crammers ye like and welcome, but if ye dare to utter your falsehoods about the ladies of Scotland and England, matrons or maids, prisoner though you be, I’ll make your two eyes see brighter lightning than has come out of them for many a day; and if ye want satisfaction, ye shall have as much as ye can get out of a stout ash stick. Vous comprennez, don’t ye?”

The colonel shrugged his shoulders, and wisely said nothing. Though he did not understand all McAllister’s remarks, he saw that he had gone too far, and that it would be wiser in future, whatever might have been his belief, not to utter any remarks disparaging to the women of England among a party of English sailors.

“I dinna think that colonel ever did a bolder thing than brave a litter of young lions in their den,” exclaimed McAllister, who, for some especial reason, held France and Frenchmen in utter detestation and abhorrence, though he knew more of their language than most of us.

We did not mind the poor old colonel’s stories, for we remembered that he was a prisoner suffering from sea-sickness, and that he had no other way of venting his spleen.

At length we reached Port Royal, and our prize under charge of Perigal arrived at the same time. Colonel Pinchard begged so hard that he might stay on board while the frigate remained in harbour, that in consideration of the instruction he was affording the youngsters he was allowed to do so.

“Ah, I do like de ship ven she stay tranquil,” he exclaimed, spreading out his hands horizontally, and making them slowly move round. “But ven she tumble bout, den,” he put his hands on his stomach, exhibiting with such extraordinary contortions of countenance the acuteness of his sensations, that we all burst into hearty fits of laughter.

Indeed the colonel was a never failing source of amusement to us. From the wonderfully prolonged cackles in which he indulged, he also evidently enjoyed the jokes himself. The schooner, which required but little refitting, was soon ready for sea. It was understood that Perigal was to have the command, and Grey and I hoped to be allowed to accompany him. The captain had not as yet let us know his intentions. We should have been ready enough, probably, to have spent our time on shore; but as we should have but little chance of that, we fancied that we should prefer sailing in search of adventures on the ocean. There are few more beautiful spots on the earth’s surface than Jamaica, with its exquisite verdure, its lofty hills, known as the Blue Mountains, its round-topped heights covered with groves of pimento, its vast savannahs or plains, its romantic vales, its rivers, bays, and creeks, and its dense and sombre forests, altogether forming one of the most lovely of tropical pictures.

Entering the harbour, we had Port Royal on the starboard hand, at the end of a long spit of land called the Palisades. On the opposite side of the narrow entrance was Rock Fort, just under a lofty hill, and as the batteries of Fort Charles at Port Royal bristled with guns, while those of Fort Augusta faced us with an equal number, we agreed that an enemy would find it no easy task to enter the harbour.

The dockyard was at Port Royal, opposite which we brought up. The Palisades run parallel with the mainland, thus forming a vast lagoon, not running inland, but along the coast as it were. Towards the upper end, the commercial town, called Kingston, with its commodious harbour, is situated. Some way inland, again, is Spanish Town, the capital, where the residence of the Governor and the House of Assembly are to be found. It is a very hot place, and the yellow fever is more apt to pay it a second visit than strangers who have once been there, if they can help it.

The admiral on the Jamaica station lives on shore, at a house called the Admiral’s pen, on the Palisades, whence he commands a view of the harbour, roadstead, and the ocean. He is better off than the Governor, because he does get the sea breeze, which is the best preventive to the yellow fever. It takes an hour or more pulling up from Port Royal to Kingston, the distance being five or six miles or more. Spellman once induced me to ride round along the Palisades, but we agreed that we would never do it again; for, as it was a calm day, and the rays of the sun beat down on the white sands, we were very nearly roasted alive, and how we escaped a sunstroke I do not know. From what I have said, it will be understood that Port Royal harbour is a very large sheet of water, and what with the shipping, the towns and ports on its shores, and the lofty mountains rising up in its neighbourhood, is a very picturesque place.

We had not been there long, when yellow jack, as the yellow fever is called, made its appearance, both at Kingston and Port Royal, and all visits to the shore were prohibited. Grey and I, therefore, had to make ourselves as happy on board as we could, till we received our expected orders to join the schooner. We had not had a yarn for some time from Mr Johnson. One evening, when work was over, we found him walking the forecastle, taking what he called his sunset food shaker, in a more than usually thoughtful mood. As Grey, Spellman, and I, with one or two others, went up to him, he heaved a sigh, which sounded not altogether unlike the roar of a young bull.

“What is the matter, Mr Johnson?” I asked, approaching him. “You seem melancholy to-day.”

“I have cause to be so, Mr Merry; I have indeed,” he answered, in a tone of deep pathos, again sighing. “Whenever I look on the blue waters of this harbour, and those whitewashed houses, and those lofty mountains, I think of a strange and sad episode of my eventful history.”

Of course we all exclaimed with one voice, “Do tell it to us, Mr Johnson!” To which I added, “If it would not break your heart, we should so like to hear it.”

“Break my heart, Mr Merry!” exclaimed the boatswain, striking his bosom with his open palm, and making it sound like the big drum in a regimental band. I could not help fancying that there was a considerable amount of humour lurking in the corner of his eye.

“Break my heart! Jonathan Johnson’s heart is formed of tougher stuff than to break with any grief it may be doomed to bear. You shall hear. But it strikes me forcibly, young gentlemen, that it may be as well to finish one part of my history before I begin another. Who can tell where I left off?”

“You were just going to be swallowed by the big sea-serpent, Mr Johnson; ship, and crew, and all,” said Grey.

“It would be more correct, Mr Grey, to say that you believed we were going to be swallowed up; because you will understand that had we been swallowed up, I should not, in all human probability, be here, or ever have attained the rank of boatswain of His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Doris,” said Mr Johnson, with a polite bend of the head. “However, not to keep you longer in suspense, I will continue my narrative:—

“The good ship Diddleus was bowling away under all sail, and the sea-serpent, with mouth agape, following us. It’s my opinion, and others agreed with me, that if he’d kept his mouth shut he would have caught us; for the hot wind coming out of his throat filled our sails, just as if it had been blowing a heavy gale of wind, and drove us ahead of him; but he was too eager, do you see, and thought every moment he was going to grab us. We guessed that he had been aroused at finding his back smart from the scratch we made in it. We thus ran on till daybreak, keeping ahead, but not dropping him as much as we could have wished. It was very awful, let me tell you, young gentlemen, to see his big rolling eyes, to feel his hot breath, to smell a smell of sulphur, and to hear his loud roaring. It was painfully evident that he was in a tremendous rage at the liberty we had taken with his back; and there was no doubt that had he come up with us, he could have swallowed the ship and crew, and his own fat into the bargain, with as much ease as he swallowed the whale. If it was a terrific sight to see him at night, it was still worse in the daytime. His immense jaws were wide open, showing a dozen rows of teeth, while his large eyes projected on either side; and I don’t think I exaggerate when I say that the tip of his upper jaw was fully sixty feet above the surface of the water. As you all well know, young gentlemen, I am not a man to be daunted; so I loaded our stern-chasers, and kept blazing away at the monster, to make him turn aside, but to no effect. I trained the guns myself, and every shot went into his mouth; but he just rolled his eyes round, and swallowed them as if they were so many pills. It was a fine sight, though a terribly fearful one, I own, to see him coming along so steadily and stately, with the water curling and foaming under his bows, and flying high up into the air as he cut through it. It was neck or nothing with us; so we kept blazing away as fast as we could load. I confess that every moment I expected he would make a spring and grab us, just as an ordinary fish does the bait held over him; but it was necessary that I should set an example of coolness to my crew; and, under the circumstances, I believe that mortal man could not have been cooler. I could not hide from myself the consequences, should he catch us; and yet I scarcely dared to hope that we should escape. We had expended, at last, all our round-shot, and the greater part of our powder, and we had to load with bags of nails and any langrage we could find. We had half emptied the carpenter’s chest, and, except some copper bolts, there seemed to be nothing else we could fire off, when, by my calculations, I found that we were approaching the line. Life is sweet; and so, that we might keep off the fatal moment as long as possible, we determined to fire away as long as we had a tin-tack or a bradawl to put into our guns, when, on a sudden, he uttered a fierce roar—it did make us jump—and down went his head right under the water, and up went his tail like a huge pillar, when flop it came down again, sending the sea flying over us and very nearly pooping the ship. We felt very uncomfortable, for we naturally expected to see him come up alongside; but he didn’t, and two minutes afterwards we made him out close to the horizon, to the southward. It was my opinion at the time—and I have held it ever since—that either he did not like the mouthful of big nails and bradawls he swallowed, or that he had some objection to crossing the line from not knowing the navigation on the other side. At all events, we were clear of him. We had a quick run to Liverpool, where the oil sold at a very high price, and I got a monstrous amount of credit from all who believed my wonderful narrative. As is always the case, some didn’t, in spite of the oil I exhibited in proof of the occurrence; but I treated the incredulous fellows with the scorn they deserved, and from that day to this, I’ll answer for it, no one has ever caught sight of so much as the tail of the real sea-serpent.”

“Vell, Mistre Johnson, dat is von very vondeful, vot you call it!” exclaimed Colonel Pinchard, who had joined us.

“A big, thundering bouncer!” cried a voice from behind the boatswain’s back. He turned sharply round, but did not discover the speaker. He shook his fist in that direction, however, with a comic expression in his eye, saying—

“Bouncer or no bouncer, mister whoever you are, I beg that you’ll understand clearly, that I will allow no man, whoever he may be, to labour under the misapprehension that I ever depart one tenth of a point from the strict line of truth; and that reminds me that I promised you, Mr Merry, and you, Mr Grey, to narrate an event which occurred during the next voyage I made. I wasn’t long in finding a ship, for the certificates with which the owners of the Diddleus had furnished me were highly satisfactory; in fact, merit like mine couldn’t, in those days, languish in obscurity; though, by the bye, I ought not exactly to sing my own praises; but when a man has a due consciousness of his own superior talents, the feeling will ooze out now and then, do all he can to conceal it. Things are altered now: merit’s claims are no longer allowed, or I should be living on shore now.” Mr Johnson pointed significantly at the Admiral’s pen.

“Ah! oui! I vonce read of von great man, Sinbad de Sailor, and von oder man, Captain Lemuel Gulliver. You vary like dem gentlemen,” observed Colonel Pinchard, with the politest of bows, to the boatswain.

“Sinbad! and Gulliver!” shouted the boatswain indignantly. “If there are two fellows whose names I hate more than others, they are those. Take them all in all, I consider them, without exception, the biggest liars who have ever lived; and if there is a character I detest more than another, it is that of a man who departs in the slightest degree from the truth; no one can longer have confidence in what he says: and, for my own part, I’d rather lose my right hand, and my head into the bargain, than have the shadow of a reason for supposing that the words I was uttering would run the remotest chance of not being implicitly believed.”

The boatswain’s eye kept rolling round on his auditory with a self-satisfied glance, and a twinkle withal, as much as to say, “You I care about understand me perfectly, and if there are any geese who don’t, they are welcome to swallow all they can digest.”

“Ah! I had just found a fresh ship. She was the Lady Stiggins, a fine brig, well armed, and bound round Cape Horn. We had a somewhat roving commission, and were first to touch out here at Jamaica, and one or two others of these gems of the tropics—these islands, full of sugar-candy and blackamoors.

“I was not at first a favourite with the crew, for not having had an opportunity of testing my qualifications, but having heard some of my veracious narratives, they were inclined to look upon me as an empty braggadocio, a character they very naturally despised; but I soon gave them reason to alter their opinion, when I was quickly raised to that position in their estimation which I ever after enjoyed.

“We were about a day’s sail from this same harbour of Port Royal, and were expecting to make the land next morning, when it fell calm. It was the hottest time of the year. The sun sent his rays down on our heads as if he were a furnace a few yards off, making the pitch in the seams of our decks bubble and squeak, like bacon in a frying-pan; and I remember that a basket of eggs in the cabin were hatched in a few minutes, and looking up from a book I was reading, I saw a whole brood of chickens and ducks squattering about the deck, not knowing where they’d come from, or what to do with themselves. The chickens, however, soon went to roost in a corner, for it was too hot to keep awake, and the ducks waddled up on deck, and were making the best of their way over the vessel’s side into the element in which they delight, when we turned them into a water-butt, which contented them mightily.

“But this was not the story I was going to tell you. Everyone on board felt like the ducks and chickens, overcome by the heat; so that at last, not considering the risk they ran, many of the men stripped off their clothes and jumped overboard.

“I, however, kept mine on, and so did several others. The fact was, that we had only, in that hot weather, to give ourselves a shake, and to turn once round in the sun, and we were dry through and through.

“We had frolicking and swimming about for some time, enjoying the comparatively cool water, though, for the matter of that, it was pretty well hot enough to boil a lobster, when suddenly our ears were assailed with a terrific cry of ‘A shark! a shark!’

“The outside man was a fine young fellow, Tom Harding by name. The poor fellow saw his danger, for the shark was making directly for him. I sang out to him not to be afraid, but to swim as fast as he could towards the ship, and he didn’t require to be told twice. Meantime I was making a circle round, so as to approach the beast in the rear; for, as you all know, I am a first-rate swimmer, and I never heard of the man who could keep up with me. Why, I once swam from Dover to Calais, and back again, for a wager, and danced a hornpipe on the top of Shakespeare’s cliff, to the astonishment of all who saw me—but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Vel, I vonder de shark did not eat you,” observed the colonel, with a grin.

“Eat me, mounseer! I should like to see the shark who would venture to attempt it, unless he found me snoozing on the top of a wave,” exclaimed the boatswain, in a tone of pretended indignation. “If it hadn’t been for me, however, he would have bolted Tom Harding, and no mistake. Well, Tom was swimming for dear life, and all the rest of the crew were scrambling up the side of the vessel, thinking that it was all over with both of us, when I saw the monster turn on his back, his white belly shining in the sun, as he made a grab at Tom’s leg. It was now time for me to interfere; so, striking out with all my might, I seized the shark by the tail, and slewing him round, just as he expected to make a mouthful of Tom, he missed his aim, and his jaws met with a crack which sounded like the report of a hundred muskets. Tom gave a shriek, for he thought—as well he might—that his last hour had come; but, still more from instinct than from any hope of escape, he swam on, and was very much surprised to find himself alongside the ship. In fact, when he was hauled on deck, it was some time, I was told, before he could be persuaded that he hadn’t lost both his legs, so firmly convinced was he that the shark had got hold of them.

“I meantime kept a taut hold of the fish, who was whisking about his tail, and snapping his jaws in his disappointment; and hard work I had, you may depend on’t. As he went one way I pulled the other, and acting like a rudder, brought him round again, till I worked him nearer and nearer to the ship. At last I got him alongside, and singing out for a rope, which was quickly hove to me, I passed it dexterously over his tail, and told the men on deck to haul it taut. He was thus partly secured, but the difficulty was to make his head fast, for I had no fancy to get within the power of his jaws. I should observe that he was the largest shark I ever saw. I was almost despairing of securing him, when one of the men, Bill Jones, I remember, was his name, made fast a big hook with a lump of pork to the topgallant halyards, and hove it before him. The shark grabbed it in a moment, and we had him fast. Those on deck had just before been endeavouring to pass a rope under his head, and this now slipped up and caught in his jaws. No sooner did he feel the iron in his mouth, than, darting forward, away he went ahead of the vessel. As I sprang on deck the idea struck me that I would make him of use. There was no great difficulty, for, passing another line over his jaws, we had a regular pair of reins on him. One end of the line was brought in on the starboard and the other on the larboard bow port, while the hook in the nose served to bring him sharp up, when he ran too fast. No sooner were these arrangements made than away he went at a rapid pace ahead, towing us at the rate of at least six knots an hour—I like always to be under the mark, for fear of being thought guilty of exaggeration. By hauling in, now on one side, now on the other, we managed to steer him very well on our proper course.

“The calm continued, but on we glided through the water, to the inexpressible astonishment of the crews of several craft we passed, who, of course, thought the Lady Stiggins must be the Flying Dutchman. As we entered the harbour, the surprise of people on shore was equally great; and no sooner did we drop our anchor than the brig was surrounded by boats full of people, eager to hear an explanation of the phenomenon. They could scarcely credit our assertions when we told them how we had got along, till we showed them the monster frisking about under the bows almost as tame and docile as a dog.

“I had always a wonderful knack of managing pets of all sorts, and by kindly treating Jack Shark he became very fond of me, and whenever I went on shore, he would swim after the boat, and remain frolicking about near her till my return. At last I thought I would make him of use; so, rigging a pair of short reins, I slipped them over his jaws, and then jumped on his back. He understood in a moment what was expected of him, and away he went with me at a rapid rate through the water. After that, lighting my pipe quite comfortably, I invariably went on shore on his back, and throwing my reins over a post, I used to leave him till my return. You may depend on it, none of the little blackamoors ever played tricks with him.

“There are many of the principal merchants and others at Kingston even now who would, young gentlemen, if you were to ask them, vouch for the truth of the circumstance. Just ask them, and hear what they’ll say. The curious part of it was, that though so tame with me, he would attack anybody else, and not a seaman from any of the ships dared to attempt swimming on shore as they had frequently before done. In fact he did swallow one or two; and I believe that he was voted a perfect nuisance, so that everyone was glad when we and our pet left the harbour to prosecute our voyage. Of course he followed us; and I used every morning to heave him a piece of pork for his breakfast, a few casks of which I bought cheap of a Jew on purpose. It was measly, but he didn’t mind that. And now I’m coming to the melancholy part of the history connected with my pet shark. But I have talked a good deal, and in this warm weather it’s an exertion even to use one’s jaws; so, young gentlemen, you must excuse me from continuing my veracious narrative for the present.”

“Oh, do go on, Mr Johnson—do go on,” we all exclaimed; but the boatswain was inexorable, and, as it happened, it was some time before we heard the sequel to his history of the shark.

The next day, Grey, and I, and Spellman were ordered to join the schooner with twenty hands. Perigal still kept command, and at the last moment McAllister came on board to act as his first-lieutenant, with the assistant-surgeon Macquoid, and a clerk, Bobus, as purser. Of course the schooner did not require so many officers and men to navigate her, but we hoped to take many prizes, and hands of course would be wanted to bring them home. We invited the old colonel to accompany us. With a most amusing grimace, and an inimitable shake of the head and shrugs of the shoulders, he answered,—“Ah, mes jeunes gentlemens, I do love vous va-a mosh; but de mer—de terrible mer. I do vish de verld ver von big earth and no vater.” So we had to leave the colonel and our French lessons behind; but we assured him that we would study hard during our absence. Good as were our intentions, it was not very likely that we could adhere to them, and, by the expression of his countenance, the colonel showed that he was strongly of that opinion.

We sailed at daybreak, and had the land breeze to take us out of the harbour. Our course was to the southward, towards the well-known Spanish Main. Our schooner was the Espoir. She sailed well, and carried two eighteen-pounders and six long eights, so that we had every reason to hope that we should pick up some prizes, if we did not get taken ourselves. That last contingency did not occur to us. Though it was hot, and we were rather crowded in the cabin, we had a very pleasant time on board. We naturally messed together, and had secured all the good things from the shore, in the shape of fruits and vegetables, and poultry and liquor, which we could collect. It is very well for poets and authors to make their heroes contented with hard fare. I can only say that midshipmen are not, if they know that better is to be got; and I have observed, whenever I have been in the society of poets and other authors, that, practically, they have enjoyed a good dinner as much as any class of people could do, and been very much inclined to grumble if they did not get it, too. We were out some days without sighting a single sail, but we were not the less merry, living upon hope, and the good fare our caterer, Macquoid, had collected. At length a sail was seen, and chase made. It was some time before we could make out whether the stranger was a man-of-war or merchantman, a friend or foe. She was a brig we soon discovered, and when we saw her up helm and run off before the wind, we had no doubt as to her pacific character. Still she might be English, and, if so, we should have had our chase for nothing. She was a slow sailer, for we came up with her rapidly. We had showed no colours, and had got her within range of our long guns, when up went the French ensign. A cheer burst from our throats. It would have been more hearty if we had thought she had been armed. We showed our colours in return. On we stood, firing a shot wide of her as a signal for her to heave-to. She obeyed, and we heaving-to near her, McAllister, with Spellman and a boat’s crew, was sent to take possession. The boat was sent back with several of the French crew. The prize was not a rich one, but she was too valuable to be destroyed, so Perigal directed Spellman to take her to Jamaica, allowing him four hands. Miss Susan did not at all like having his cruise cut so short, but we congratulated him on the honour of having a separate command, being ourselves very well contented to continue on board the Espoir. For two days more we stood south, when, at daybreak, another sail was descried from the mast-head. She was a schooner, and from the squareness of her yards, her taut masts, and her white canvas, we suspected that, should she be an enemy, she would prove a very different sort of customer to the slow-sailing brig we had just before captured. That she was not afraid of us was very evident, for, throwing her head sails aback, she awaited our coming. In a short time we made out the French ensign flying at her peak, and we concluded that she was a privateer, probably with a large crew, and well armed. Perigal, on this, called all hands aft. “Now, my lads,” said he, “that craft is an enemy; very likely twice as many men dance on her decks as on ours; but they are Frenchmen, and I want to show that we are English, every one, to the backbone, and see how quickly we can take her. I have nothing more to say, except to tell you not to throw your shot away, and, if it comes to boarding, when you strike, strike home.” Three hearty cheers was the response to this address. The old mate was not much given to oratory, but, when he spoke, he never failed to speak to the purpose. Arms were served out, and pistols were stuck in belts, and cutlasses buckled on; muskets were loaded, and arranged in readiness for use; powder and round-shot were brought on deck, and the men, stripped to the waist, with handkerchiefs bound round their heads, stood ready for action. They looked as grim and determined a set as a commanding officer would wish to see; but still, jokes were bandied about, one from the other, and it did not seem to occur to any of them that, before another hour of time had slipped by, in all probability several might be numbered with the dead. Ned Bambrick was at the helm, with his eye cast ever and anon at the canvas, and then at the Frenchman, as we glided on rapidly towards him, just as cool and unconcerned as if he was standing up to speak to a friend. We had the weather-gauge, and Perigal resolved to keep it. Supposing the enemy superior to us in strength, it would give us an important and necessary advantage. To a sailor’s eye it was a pretty sight to see the two schooners approaching. The Espoir was a handsome craft, and so was her antagonist. We did not at first show our colours. No sooner, however, did we hoist them than the Frenchman filled his sails and tacked, in the hope of weathering on us, firing at the same time a gun of defiance. We suspected that he had not till then known exactly what to make of us, and possibly had taken us for a friend. However, the Frenchmen were now in for it, and, like brave men, were resolved to fight it out. We were now near enough for our long eights to tell, and the very first shot, flying high, knocked away the jaws of the enemy’s main gaff, wounding at the same time the head of the mainmast. At seeing this, a hearty cheer rose from all on board. It was a prognostic of success.

“If we’d tried to do that same we could not have succeeded,” observed McAllister. “I say, Perigal, you must let me take that craft to Jamaica.”

“With all my heart, my boy, when she’s ours; but it’s ill-luck to give away what doesn’t belong to us,” answered our skipper.

“Never mind; but she will be before many minutes are over,” persisted McAllister. “Now, lads, just follow suit to that shot, and we’ll do for the mounseers in a very short time.”

By this fortunate shot we had the enemy almost in our power. She ran off before the wind, and we soon came up with her, and hung on her quarter, so that she could rarely bring more than one gun at a time to bear on us. She had fired several shots without effect, but at last, to make amends, one came flying diagonally across our deck, taking off the head of one of our men, and knocking over a second, who survived but a few moments. A few more such fatal shots would sadly have thinned our numbers. The enemy had a good number of men on deck, but not so many as we expected. Some were sent aloft to try and repair the damage to the gaff, and this, as we had got within musket range, we did our best to prevent by keeping up a fire of small-arms at them. I had seized a musket, and with others was blazing away, not very effectually, for the men continued their work, and no one appeared to be hurt, when, just as I had fired, I saw a man drop stone dead upon the deck. It was my shot had done the deed. A sickening sensation came over me. I felt as if I had committed a murder. It would have been different had I hit one of the men at the guns, but the poor fellow was performing, so it seemed, but an ordinary piece of a seaman’s duty; my blood was cool, I did not feel that he was an enemy. Perhaps the idea was foolish; it did not last long. The rest of the men aloft were soon driven on deck, and shooting ahead, we ranged up alongside, and poured in the whole of our broadside. The enemy returned our fire, but our men worked their guns almost twice as quickly as the Frenchmen did, aiming much better, and the effect was soon apparent in their shattered bulwarks, decks strewed with slain, and torn sails.

“Blaze away, lads,” shouted McAllister, as he went from gun to gun, pointing one, lending a hand to run out another, or to load a third.

Still the gallant Frenchmen fought on. They were very unlike old Pinchard and his men; but there was this difference, they were sailors, whereas the others were soldiers, and it was themal de merin that instance deserved the credit of the victory more than we did. This close firing soon got our blood up, and I now felt anxious to run the enemy aboard, that we might be at them with our cutlasses. I have not often found Frenchmen foolhardy: they know when they are beaten. Englishmen don’t, and so sometimes stumble against all rule into victory. Just as Perigal had ordered Bambrick to put the helm to starboard, to run the enemy aboard, the French captain hauled down his flag, and, coming to the gangway, made us a profound bow, as an additional sign that he had struck. We immediately ceased firing, and as our boats had escaped damage, one was lowered, and McAllister and I went on board to take possession. We had certainly contrived in a short hour considerably to spoil the beauty of the French schooner, and dreadfully to diminish the number of her crew. Her brave captain and most of his officers were wounded, and six men were killed and ten wounded. Her captain received us on the quarter-deck, where he stood ready to deliver his sword with the greatest politeness, as if it was really a pleasant act he was performing, and assured us that it was the fortune de la guerre, and that he had learnt to yield to fortune without a murmur.

“He really is one of the pleasantest Frenchmen I have ever met,” observed McAllister. “We must treat him with all consideration.”

Curiously enough, this remark of my messmate kept continually running in my head, and I could not help repeating it. We had plenty to do to bury the dead, wash the decks, repair the masts, and spars, and bulwarks, and to splice the rigging, and bend fresh sails. McAllister was directed to go as prize-master, and I with Bambrick, Foley and four other hands accompanied him; some of the French crew were removed on board the Espoir, but the captain, two officers, and eight men remained with us as prisoners.

Perigal had, in fact, already, more prisoners than his own crew now mustered. Our new prize was the Audacieuse, a larger vessel and better armed than the Espoir. By nightfall we had made great progress in getting the prize to rights, and as our own vessel had suffered but little, we were able to bestow all our strength upon her. Both Perigal and McAllister were very anxious to continue the cruise together. The objection to this was the number of our prisoners. Still, as McAllister argued, the commander of the prize, Lieutenant Préville was a very quiet sort of fellow, and the men left on board were orderly and well-behaved, so that he should have no difficulty in keeping them under.

“But, remember, McAllister, that crews have sometimes risen against their captors, and retaken their vessels. It will be necessary to be very careful,” observed Perigal.

“Oh, never fear, my old fellow; I should think that we seven Englishmen could keep a dozen or more Frenchmen in order,” answered McAllister, with a somewhat scornful laugh. “If we go into action, we will clap them under hatches, and they will be quiet enough, depend on that.”

At length Perigal yielded, and the Audacieuse’s mast-head having been fished, and all other damages made good, we continued our cruise together. Lieutenant Préville was a gentleman, and really a very pleasant fellow; and, to show our appreciation of his good qualities, we invited him to live in his own cabin and to partake of the delicacies which he had laid in for his own especial use, which was generous on our part; and which conduct he did not fail to acknowledge by doing ample justice to the viands. He frequently, too, would tuck up his sleeves, and, going into the galley, would cook dishes, which I doubt that any Parisian chef could have surpassed.

“Ah, ma foi,” he observed in French, when we complimented him on his success, “in my opinion a man has no right to claim the character of a civilised being, much less of a chef, unless he can produce a complete dinner from an old tom-cat and a bundle of nettle-tops. He should depend on the fire and the sources managed by his own skill. The rest of the materials are nothing. The fire brings everything to the same condition.” Certainly Lieutenant Préville managed to give us an infinite variety of dishes, to all appearance, the foundation of which, to the best of my belief, was salt pork, and beef of a very tough and dry nature. Of course, such a man would soon win his way into the good graces of far more stoical beings than English midshipmen are apt to be at present, or were in those good old days.

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