Chapter Three.

Chapter Three.After I had taken Macquoid’s nauseous draught, I went and lay down on my chest. I chose that spot because, from the uncomfortable position in which I was obliged to place myself, I was not likely to go to sleep, and because I was there better able to hear when the boats’ crews were called away. I could not help now and then giving way to a groan, which the sickness and pain of the physic produced.“Who’s that?” I heard old Perigal inquire, as he was passing to the berth.“Oh, it’s only that little sneak Merry,” Spellman answered. “He thinks that he may be ordered off in the boat, and is shamming sick to escape, as if such a hop-o’-my-thumb as he is could be of any use.”“That is not like him. I consider him a very plucky little fellow,” remarked Perigal.“Thank you, old boy,” I said mentally. “And you, Miss Susan, I’ll be even with you some day for your obliging remarks.”I cannot say, however, that I felt any enmity towards Spellman on that account. I had not respect enough for him. I would rather, however, have parted with more kindly feelings towards all my messmates on so dangerous an expedition. I could not help thinking over the matter while lying so long silent by myself, but my resolution to accomplish my design was not shaken. My messmates went into the berth, and just then I heard the boats piped away. I ran quickly upon deck, and, while the men were buckling on their cutlasses, I slipped into the pinnace, and stowed myself, as before, into so small a space that even the boatswain, who looked into the boat, did not perceive me. I knew that he looked for me, because I heard his gruff voice say, “All right; he’s not there. He’s thought better of it.” At about half-past nine the final order to shove off was given, and away we went. I got fewer kicks this time, for I took good care to keep my legs out of the way. The men, also, I suspect, guessed that I was there. I knew that I was perfectly safe with them.The flotilla consisted of fifteen boats, containing nearly three hundred officers and men, not counting myself. After we had got, as I supposed, about a couple of miles from the ship, and I knew that I could not be sent back, I ventured to crawl out and look over the gunnel. The inky sea around us was dotted with boats, all the party keeping pretty close together. The night was so dark that I could see little more than their outlines, as they crept rapidly along, like many-footed monsters, over the deep. I did not fancy that Mr Johnson knew I was there, but his sharp eyes made me out through the gloom.“Mr Merry, step aft, if you please, sir,” he bawled out suddenly.Stepping over the oars, I went and sat myself down by him, but said nothing.“Mr Merry, this conduct is highly reprehensible. I must report it to the captain as soon as we get back, after we have carried and brought out that French corvette, and covered ourselves with honour and glory; and I don’t know what he’ll say to you. And now, sir, after, as in duty bound, from being your superior officer, I have expressed my opinions, I should like to know what you are going to do when we get alongside the enemy?”“Climb up with the rest, and fight the Frenchmen,” I replied promptly.“Very good, Mr Merry; but suppose one of the Frenchmen was to give you a poke in the ribs with a boarding-pike, or a shot through the chest, or a slash with a cutlass, what would you do then?”“Grin and bear it, I suppose, like anybody else,” was my answer.“Very good, very good, indeed, Mr Merry,” said the boatswain, well-pleased; “that’s the spirit I like, and expected to find in you. Now, my boy, whatever you do, stick by me; I’ll do my best for you. If I get knocked over, and there’s no saying what will happen in desperate work like this, then keep close to Edkins. He’s a good swordsman, and won’t let you be hurt if he can help it. I should be sorry if any harm came to you. But, Mr Merry, how are you going to fight? I don’t see that you have got a sword, and I fancy that you’ll not do much execution with one of the ship’s cutlasses.”I told him that I had got my dirk, and that I hoped to make good use of that.He laughed heartily.“A tailor’s bodkin would be of as much use in boarding,” he answered; “but you shall have one of my pistols; the chances are that I do not require either of them. Cold steel suits me best.”I thanked Mr Johnson warmly, and then asked him what orders had been received about attacking. He told me that some of the boats were to board on the bows, and others on the quarters of the corvette; that a quarter-master of the Beaulieu, with a party of men to protect him, was to take charge of the helm; that others were to fight their way aloft, to let fall the topsails; and that he, with his men and another boat’s crew, was to hold possession of the forecastle, and to cut the cables. All this was to be done in spite of any fighting which might be taking place. Some were to sheet home the topsails, and the remainder were to do their best to overpower the enemy. We had got some way, when we caught sight of a strange boat inside of us.The commander of the expedition, supposing that she belonged to the Chevrette, summoning five other boats to attend him, made chase to secure her, ordering his second in command to pull slowly on till he rejoined the expedition. On we went. As to pulling slow, that was a very difficult thing to do just then. So eager were the men, that they couldn’t help putting more strength into their strokes than they intended. All I know is that the nine remaining boats got close up to the harbour’s mouth, and that the others had not joined. We lay on our oars, as ordered, for a short time.“What can have become of them?” exclaimed a lieutenant in one of the boats.“Daylight will be upon us if we don’t look sharp,” said another.“It would be a disgrace to go back without attempting something,” cried a third.“We will lose no more time, but try what we can do without them,” said the senior officer of the party. He was undoubtedly very eager to lead on the occasion. Certain necessary alterations were made.“Gentlemen, you all know your respective duties,” he added. “Then give way!”Right cheerfully the men bent to their oars, and up the harbour we dashed. I kept looking ahead for the enemy. I knew that as soon as we saw her, she would see us, and then the fun would begin. I felt rather nervous, but very eager.“There she is,” cried the boatswain.Suddenly through the gloom, I saw the tall masts and spars of the ship we were to attack. A voice from her hailed us in French. Of course our only reply was a hearty cheer, and on we dashed faster than ever. Not unmolested though. The next moment, sheets of flame darted from the ports, from one end of the ship to the other, and showers of grape and bullets rattled about our heads. A groan, or a cry of anguish from some of the boats, told that the emissaries of destruction had taken effect. Thick fell the shot, and the next instant a heavy fire opened on us from the shore; but nothing stopped our progress. On we dashed, and were quickly alongside the enemy. The whole side bristled with boarding-pikes, and as we attempted to climb up, muskets and pistols were discharged in our faces, and tomahawks and sabres came slashing down on our heads. Our men cheered and grasped hold of the ship’s sides, but again and again were thrust back, and then the Frenchmen leaped into our boats, making a dashing effort to drive us out of them. They had better have remained on their own deck, for very few got back. Some did though, and formed shields to our men, who climbed up after them. Meantime, our boat had boarded, as directed, on the starboard bow, but finding it hopeless to get up there, Mr Johnson dropped astern, and perceiving only one boat on the quarter, and space for us to shove in, we hooked on, and the next instant were scrambling up the side. I kept close to the boatswain. I thought that we were about to gain the deck, when the enemy made a rush towards us, and over we went, and I was left clinging to the side, with a dozen sabres flashing above my head. As to letting go, I never thought of that. I kept Mr Johnson’s pistol in my right hand, and was about to fire, when down came a sword, which would have clove my head in two, had not a lieutenant of marines in the next boat interposed his own weapon, and saved me. But the act was one of self-devotion, for the Frenchman brought his sabre down on my preserver’s arm, while another thrust a pike through his body, and hurled him back, mortally wounded, to the bottom of the boat. I should, after all, have shared the same fate, had not Mr Johnson at that instant recovered himself, and with a shout, loud enough to make our enemies quake, up he sprang, and, with one whirl of his cutlass, drove the Frenchmen from the side. Over the bulwarks he leaped; I and most of the men from the two boats followed. But though we had gained the deck, there seemed but little chance of our forcing our way forward.Our men, in the first desperate struggle alongside, had lost their firearms, and for a few seconds the tall figure of the boatswain, as he stood up facing the enemy, offered a mark to a score of muskets aimed at him. The Frenchmen, expecting to see him fall, came on boldly. I grasped his pistol, hoping to avenge him.“The forecastle is our station, lads,” he shouted, and his stentorian voice was heard above the din of battle.“Make a lane, there; make a lane, there,” he added, dashing furiously among the enemy. I followed by his side. His whirling cutlass flashed round, and sent the Frenchmen flying on either side. On we went, intent on our object, bearing down all opposition, to gain the forecastle, while another party had got possession of the helm. The deck was by this time covered with killed and wounded. Many of our men had fallen. We strode over friend and foe alike, alive or dead. The break of the topgallant forecastle was gained. It was desperately defended, but the boatswain, clearing with a sweep of his cutlass a spot to stand on, sprang up among the astonished Frenchmen. I felt myself lifted up after him; our men followed; and though pikes were thrust at us, and pistols were flashed in our faces for a few seconds, our opponents either leaped overboard or threw themselves on the deck, and sang out for quarter. Some of our men, appointed for the purpose, went to the head sails, while others instantly cut the cable. I glanced my eye upwards; the topmen, who had fought their way aloft, had cut loose the topsails with their cutlasses, and they were now being sheeted home; but the fighting was not over, a desperate attempt was being made by the enemy to drive us out of the ship. The boatswain, meantime, was uttering his war shouts, issuing orders to the men, and dealing death and wounds around.“Old England for ever I hoist the fore-staysail. Back, ye Johnny Crapeaus! Back, ye French scarecrows! Haul away, my lads, and belay all that. Hurra! we’ve gained the day!”In the latter assertion he was somewhat premature, for the French crew, now rallying amidships, made a desperate attack on the forecastle, but the boatswain’s flashing weapon literally cut them down like corn before the reaper’s scythe, as they came on. Still they pressed round us. Most of our men were occupied in making sail.A big Frenchman, the boatswain of the ship, I fancy, who was almost as big as Jonathan himself, now sprang ahead of his comrades to measure his strength with our champion. He was evidently a first-rate swordsman, and in his progress forward had already cut down two or three of our men. He shouted something to his companions; it was, I suspected, to tell them to try and wound Mr Johnson while he was engaging him in front. I had hitherto grasped the pistol he had given me, but had not fired it. I felt for the lock. On came the Frenchmen; Mr Johnson had need of all his skill to keep his enemies at bay. The French boatswain pressed him desperately hard. One of his mates rushed in, and was bringing down his cutlass with a terrific sweep, which would have half cut our boatswain in two, when, raising my pistol, I fired at the man’s head. The bullet went through his brain, and his cutlass, though wounding Johnson slightly in the leg, fell to the deck. The boatswain’s weapon meantime was not idle, and at the same moment it descended with a sweep which cut the Frenchman’s head nearly in two, and he fell dead among his comrades. It was at that instant the French discovered that their ship was under way. “Sauve qui peut!” was the cry. Some jumped overboard and endeavoured to swim on shore. Many leaped below, either in fear or with determination still to carry on the fight, and others threw down their arms and cried for mercy. Not a cutlass was raised on them after that, but the fellows who fled below had got possession of some muskets, and began firing at all of us who appeared near the hatchways. A party of our men, however, leaped down among them and quickly put a stop to their proceedings.The ship was now completely under our command; the sails filled, she felt the helm, and was standing down the harbour. Though it appeared to me nearly an hour, if not more, I found that not five minutes had passed since the boats got alongside. But we were not quite free. We were congratulating ourselves on our success, when a shot whistled between our masts, followed by another, and a heavy battery opened upon us. We were too busy to reply to it, and the men went about their work just as coolly as if nothing was occurring. The wind was light, and we were a long time exposed to the fire of the battery. Mr Johnson, between pulling and hauling, for he lent a hand to everybody, apostrophised the masts, and urged them not to get shot away. He evidently thought more of them just then than of anything else. They were in his department.“I wonder, Mr Johnson, whether any of us will have to change heads?” said I.“If you and I did, you’d look rather funny with my mug on your shoulders,” he answered, with a loud laugh. “Even your own mother wouldn’t know you, I suspect.” Just then a shower of grape came rattling round us, and though I could hear the shot whistling by, close to my ears, not one of us was hit. I could not help wishing that a breeze would spring up, and carry us clear of the unpleasant neighbourhood. Just then the missing boats arrived, and rather surprised our friends were to find that we had already secured the prize. Though too late to help to take her, they were of great assistance in towing her out of range of the enemy’s batteries, and I believe some of the poor fellows in them were hit while so employed. At length a breeze sprang up, and all sail being made, right merrily we glided out of the enemy’s harbour, much, undoubtedly, to their disgust, and to our very great satisfaction.Now came the sad work of counting the killed and wounded. We had lost twelve of the former, two being officers, and nearly five times that number wounded; while we found that the corvette had her captain, three lieutenants, and three midshipmen, and eighty-five seamen and soldiers killed, being ninety-two killed, though only sixty-two were wounded. The deck was a complete shambles: the wounded were carried below, friends and foes alike, though the dead Frenchmen were hove overboard at once. Our own dead, being not so numerous, were kept to be committed to the deep with more ceremony in the morning. Among them was a midshipman. I could not help lifting up the flag which covered his face. Poor fellow, there he lay, stiff and stark! A jovial laughing fellow he had been, cracking his jokes but a few minutes before, just as we were entering the harbour. Such might have been my fate. He had fallen, though in the path of duty. He had been ordered to come. I felt more sad, and was more thoughtful, than I had ever been in my life before. How long I stood there I do not know. Mr Johnson’s voice aroused me.“I haven’t had time to speak to you before, Mr Merry,” said he. “You did very well,—very well indeed. Jonathan Johnson thanks you from the bottom of his heart; that he does. If it hadn’t been for your steady aim, and the unfailing accuracy of my pistol which you fired, I should now be among those lying there, covered with glory;—a very fine thing in theory to be covered with, but, practically, I would rather be alive, and have less of it. However, I mustn’t stop talking here. By the bye, there’s Mr Bryan has found you out. I will tell him how you have behaved, and I dare say that he’ll not get you into trouble, if he can help it.”I thought that would be very kind in Mr Bryan. It did not occur to me that I had done anything to be proud of; nor had I, indeed. I had done what I ought not to have done. I wanted to see some fighting; I had seen it, and just then I felt that I did not want to see any more. The face of that dead midshipman haunted me. I had had a sort of a notion that midshipmen could not be killed, and now I had had proof positive to the contrary. I felt unusually grave and sad. For a long time I could not get the face out of my head. I believe that it contributed to sober me, and to prevent me from being the reckless creature I might otherwise have become.Day broke as we hove in sight of the squadron, and loud cheers saluted us as we brought up in triumph among them. A prize crew was put in charge of the captured ship, and I returned in the pinnace with the boatswain to the Doris. I was in hopes of getting on board without being observed, but too many eyes were gazing down on us for me to do that. Spellman was, of course, one of the first to discover me.“What, you there, ‘hop o’ me?’” he exclaimed; “how did you tumble into the boat?”“Don’t answer him,” whispered the boatswain, as we climbed up the side; “I’ll let him know what I think of you and him.”I ran down below as fast as I could to change my clothes and wash, for I was dreadfully dirty, covered from head to foot with powder and blood. The first person I encountered was Toby Bluff.“Oh! Muster Merry, Muster Merry! Be you really and truly alive?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms round my neck, and bursting into tears. “They told me you was gone away to be killed by the Frenchmen, and I never expected to see you more; that I didn’t. But is it yourself, squire? You looks awful smoky and bloody loike. Where are all the wounds? You’ll be bleeding to death, sure. Let me run for the doctor.”He would have been off like a shot, but I assured him that I was not hurt. After he was satisfied that such was the case, I despatched him to the cook’s galley to procure some hot water, with which, and the aid of soap, I managed speedily to get rid of the stains of the fight. By the time I got to rights, breakfast was on the table, and I went into the berth and sat myself down as if nothing had happened. I flattered myself that my messmates looked at me with considerable respect, though they badgered me not a little.“Where have you been, youngster?” said one. “You’ll catch it, my boy!”“What have you been about, Merry?” asked old Perigal, who was rather annoyed at not having been allowed to go. “Getting most kicks or halfpence, I wonder? but ‘duty is duty, and discipline is discipline,’ as the master remarks; and you mustn’t be playing these pranks, my boy, or you’ll get knocked on the head or turned out of the service. Over zeal is not approved of at head-quarters.”I went on eating my breakfast with perfect equanimity, and I very soon found that my messmates were eager to have an account of the expedition, which I was able to give them with tolerable clearness. I was still somewhat uncomfortable as to what the captain would say, and, before long, he sent for me. I went trembling. He received me, however, very kindly, though he was somewhat grave.“The boatswain speaks in the highest terms of your coolness and courage, and says that you saved his life. I am therefore willing to overlook your infraction of the rules of discipline on this occasion, but remember that, however well you may behave in other respects, you can never make wrong right. In consequence of this, I cannot speak of your bravery in public as I should have liked to do.”This was a good deal for the captain to say, and more, I felt conscious, than I deserved. The officers were very civil to me, and I felt that I had certainly risen in public estimation, and was no longer looked upon as a little boy.A few days after this Spellman came into the berth in a great rage, stating that he had overheard the boatswain say that Mr Merry was worth his weight in gold, and that he, Spellman, was not worth his in paving-stones. “Listeners never hear any good of themselves,” observed one.“And if you are not worth your weight in paving-stones, I should like to know what you are worth?” asked old Perigal.“I am much obliged to the boatswain for his good opinion of me,” said I. “But he probably was thinking of the saying that London is paved with gold, and meant to say that you were worth your weight in gold paving-stones.”“That may be,” answered Spellman, willing to be pacified; “but I cannot say I liked his tone.”On this there was a general laugh. The boatswain’s tone was well-known. It was wonderful what withering contempt he could throw into it. The men dreaded it more than they did even his rattan, and that, in his hand, was a somewhat formidable weapon. I remembered his promise when Spellman was quizzing me, on our return from capturing the Chevrette, and I found that he had fulfilled it. I thanked him the next time we met off duty.“Yes, Mr Merry; I like to serve my friends, and serve out my enemies. Not that poor Mr Spellman is an enemy of yours or mine; but—I say it with all due respect—he is a goose, and I like to baste geese.”I did not repeat to Spellman what Mr Johnson had said of him. I had an intuitive feeling that it was harmful to tell a person what another says of him, except it happens to be something especially pleasant. I believe more ill-blood and mischief is created in that way than in any other.Soon after this, we sailed on a cruise to the westward, for the purpose of intercepting some of the enemy’s homeward-bound merchantmen.Notwithstanding what I have said of Spellman, I was in reality on very good terms with him. He was continually playing me tricks; but then I paid him off in his own coin. I had, however, made the friendship of another messmate, George Grey by name. He was about my own age and size, and came from Leicestershire, but from a different part of the county to that where my family lived. I liked him, because he was such an honest, upright little fellow. No bullying or persuasion could make him do what he thought wrong. I do not mean to say that he never did anything that was wrong. When he did, it was without reflection. I never knew him to do premeditated harm. We stuck by each other on all occasions; skylarked together, studied navigation together; and when we were together the biggest bully in the mess held us in respect. Mr Johnson liked George Grey as much as he did me.I had never got the boatswain to commence his history. I told Grey that I was determined to get it out of him, as it was certain to be amusing, though we agreed that we were not bound to believe all he said. He certainly was an extraordinary character. A boaster and a man (I do not like to use a harsh term) who is addicted to saying what is not true, is generally found to be a coward, and often a bully; whereas my worthy friend was as brave as a lion and, gruff as was his voice, as gentle as a lamb, as he used to say of himself, if people would but stroke him the right way; and I can assert a kinder hearted monster never lived. Grey and I, one afternoon when it was our watch below, found him in his cabin. He was taking his after-dinner potation of rum and water, y-clept “grog,” and reading by the light of a purser’s dip.“Come in, young gentlemen, come in, and be seated,” he sang out; and as we willingly obeyed, he added, “This is what I call enjoyment—food for the mind and moisture for the whistle. We have not many opportunities for mental improvement and the enjoyment of light literature, as you may have discovered by this time; and to a man, like myself, of refined taste, that is one of the greatest drawbacks to our noble profession.”Grey and I did not understand exactly what he meant; but, after letting him run on for a little time, we told him why we had come, and begged him to indulge us by commencing at once.“There is, as you sagaciously observe, young gentlemen, no time like the present for doing a thing which is to be done; and so,”—and he cleared his throat with a sound which rang along the decks—“I will begin. But remember, now, I’ll have no doubting—no cavilling. If you don’t choose to believe what I say, you need not listen any more. I will not submit to have my word called in question.”“Heave ahead!” said a voice outside; I suspected it was Spellman’s. I soon found that there were several other listeners, and was afraid Jonathan would refuse to go on; but, in reality, he liked to have a large audience, and seasoned his descriptions accordingly. Again he cleared his throat, and said—“I’ll begin—as I remarked. My mother was a wonderful woman. I have a great respect for her memory. Joan of Arc, Queen Dido, or the Roman Daughter could not hold a candle to her. She was up to any thing, and, had opportunities offered, would have been the first woman of her age. As it was, she made herself pretty well-known in the world, as you shall hear. When she was quite a young woman she once on a time became first-lieutenant of a dashing frigate. When the captain was killed, she took the ship into action, fought two line-of-battle ships broadside to broadside, and then, when there was not a stick left standing, carried them by boarding. She would have brought both of them into port, but one went down from the severe hammering she had given them. You doubt what I am telling you, young gentlemen, do you? Well, then, I’ll give you proof which ought to satisfy any candid mind that I am speaking the truth. You must know that there is a song written about her; and, of course, if she hadn’t done what I have been telling you it wouldn’t have been written. It runs thus:—“Billy Taylor was a smart young sailor,Full of life and full of glee,And he went a courting Molly Nailor,A maiden fair of high degree.“That maiden fair was my mother. Billy Taylor, do ye see, went a courting her, and swore that he loved her better than the apple of his eye, or a shipload of prize-money, and no end of glasses of grog, and fifty other things, and that her cheeks were like roses from Persia, and her breath sweeter than the essence of all the gales of Araby that ever blew, and all that sort of thing. She believed him, for she was young and tender hearted, and did not know what horrible falsehoods some men can tell. I do hate a fellow who doesn’t speak the truth. Now, do ye see, that scoundrel Taylor was only bamboozling her all the time, for he went away and fell in with another lady who had more of the shiners, though less beauty, and he having brought to bear the whole broadside of false oaths he had been firing away at my respected mother, the other lady struck her flag and became his wife. Like other wid blades of his stamp, he soon ran through all the poor girl’s money, so he wasn’t a bit the better for it, and she was very much the worse. When she had no more left for him to lay his hand on, he had to go to sea again.“My mother, who was not my mother then, you’ll understand, because I wasn’t born till some years after that,—and I’m proud to say that my father was a very different man to Billy Taylor. He was an honest man; and when Miss Nailor found out all about Billy Taylor’s treachery, she resolved to be avenged on him. He had entered on board the Thunder bomb, and she heard of it. Accordingly she rigged herself out in a suit of seaman’s clothes, and as her father was a seaman,—an officer, of course, (my parentage was respectable on both sides)—and she knew all about seamen’s ways and sayings, she very easily passed for one.“One fine morning, off she set in her new toggery for Portsmouth, where the Thunder was fitting out. She had provided herself with a loaded pistol, which she kept in her pocket, vowing to revenge herself on the traitor Taylor.“As the Thunder was short of hands, the captain was very glad to enter the smart young seaman she seemed to be when she presented herself before him.“Billy Taylor was aboard, and when she caught sight of his face she had some difficulty in keeping her fingers off it, I believe you. Not that she was otherwise, I’ll have you understand, than a mild tempered woman, when she had her own way, but she had received a good deal of provocation, you’ll allow. The deceiver didn’t know her, and all went on smoothly for some time. She proved herself so smart and active a seaman, (or sea woman,—I should say a mermaid, eh?) that she soon got made captain of the main-top over the head of Billy Taylor and many older hands. How they would have fired up if they had known the truth!“At last the Thunder sailed down Channel, and my mother began to fancy that all the things she had heard about Taylor might be false, and all her old feeling for him came back. However, as his ill-luck would have it, the ship put into Plymouth Sound, and as she lay there a boat came off from Causand with a lady in it.“Billy Taylor watched the boat till she came alongside, and when the lady stepped on deck he kissed her lips and folded her in his arms.“Miss Nailor was standing by. The scene was too much for her.“‘Oh, you foul traitor!’ she exclaimed, drawing her pistol just as the lady and the deceiver Billy were walking forward hand in hand. ‘Take that!’“Off went the pistol, and the false lover tumbled over as dead as a herring. The lady, at first, was inclined to go into what the uneducated sailors call high-strikes—you understand, young gentlemen; but she was a strong-minded woman, and when she heard how Billy had been deceiving another girl, she said it served him right, and that she would have nothing more to say to him, dead or alive, and, stepping into her boat, away she went ashore at Causand, where she had come from.“The captain of the Thunder, when he found out that my mother was a woman, and how she had been treated by Billy Taylor, as the song says, ‘very much approved of what she’d done,’ and declared that she was a fine spirited girl, (which she certainly had proved herself to be), and that he would make her his first-lieutenant as soon as there was a vacancy. You see they did things differently in those days to what they do now. No one ever hears of a young woman being made first-lieutenant, though it is said there are many old women higher up in the list; but it wouldn’t become me, holding the subordinate situation of a boatswain, to credit the fact. The captain very soon had an opportunity of fulfilling his word, for in a very short time the ship went into action, and his next in command being killed, he gave Miss Nailor the death vacancy, and then she became first-lieutenant of the gallant Thunder bomb. However, young gentlemen, I must put a stopper on my jaw-tackle just now. I have had uninvited listeners to my veracious and authentic history, and I hope they have benefited by it.”Mr Johnson placed his finger on the side of his nose, and winked one of his piercing eyes.“The fact is, I like to indulge in my faculty of invention and amplification, and you may possibly have an idea that I have done so in the account I have given you of my female parent’s early adventures. Ho! ho! ho!” and he heaved back, and indulged in a long, low, hoarse laugh, such as a facetious hippopotamus might be supposed to produce on hearing a good pun made by an alligator.Spellman, and the rest who had been listening out side, on this, beat a retreat, suspecting, probably, that the boatswain had been laughing at them.Our watch was called, and Grey and I had to go on deck. I had by this time picked up a large amount of miscellaneous nautical knowledge, so had Toby in his way. As to going aloft, or in feats of activity, few of the other midshipmen could beat me. I said that I could swim well. Our father had taught us all at an early age, and I could accomplish the passage across the mill-pond five times and back without resting. Toby, too, after I had saved him from drowning, had learned the art. It was fortunate for us that we had done so.We had returned unsuccessful from our cruise to the westward, and were somewhere about the chops of the Channel. Night was coming on, and it was blowing very fresh.“A sail on the lee bow!” shouted the look-out from the mast-head. The wind was south-west, and the frigate was close-hauled, heading towards Ushant.“What do you make of her? Which way is she standing?” asked Captain Collyer, who was on deck.“Looks like a lugger, standing up Channel,” was the answer.“Up with the helm, keep her away!” exclaimed the captain.“All hands make sail.”In an instant the men were hauling on tacks and sheets, braces and bowlines; the yards were squared away, studding sails were set, and off we flew before the wind like an eagle at its prey. The chase kept on before the wind. I had gone up into the fore-top, though I had no business to be there, but it happened to be the station of my particular chum, Grey, and I could enjoy a better sight of the chase from thence than elsewhere.As the evening advanced, the wind increased, but we were gaining rapidly on the chase, and of course the captain was unwilling to shorten sail. Stays and braces grew tauter and tauter, studden sail-booms cracked, and the topgallant masts bent like willow wands.“We are going to get it,” observed the captain of the top.He was right. Away flew the main-topgallant studden sail; the topmast studden sail followed. At the same moment, the foremost guns with a loud roar sent a couple of shot after the chase. It was getting dark, but I felt sure that one had struck her counter. Still she held on, and we continued in chase, she carrying as much sail as she could stagger under.“We shall carry the masts out of the ship if we don’t look sharp,” observed the captain of the top. The yards cracked more than ever. “All hands shorten sail,” cried the captain from the deck. “In with the studden sails!”When the men went out on the fore-yard, I, to show my activity and daring to my messmate Grey, went out also. The frigate had begun to pitch and roll a little. By some means I lost my hold, and should have fallen on deck and been killed, had she not rolled at the moment to starboard, and sent me flying overboard.“There goes poor Marmaduke Merry,” shouted Grey.I was plunged under the water, but quickly rose to see the frigate flying by me. As she passed, something was thrown from the deck, and the next instant I observed, I fancied, some one leap from the mizen chains. I did not for a moment suppose that I was going to be drowned, but how I was to be saved I could not divine. I swam on till I got hold of a grating which had been thrown to me, and had not long seated myself on it when I heard a voice sing out—“All right, Master Marmaduke; I said I’d go wherever you did, but to my mind now it would have been better to have stayed on board.”It was Toby, and after I had helped him up alongside me, I assured him that I agreed with his remark, but that I could not help it. I looked anxiously for the frigate. Her mighty form could only just be distinguished through the gloom, and the lugger could nowhere be seen.“This isn’t pleasant,” said I. “But keep up your spirits, Toby, I suppose the frigate will turn to look for us, and if not, we must hold on till the morning, when I hope we may be picked up by some ship or other.”“Ne’er fear, Master Marmaduke,” answered Toby. “If you think it’s all right, I’m happy.”I certainly did not think it all right, for in a short time it became so dark that we could scarcely see our hands held up before our eyes. As to seeing the frigate, that was out of the question, even if she passed close to us. Happily the gale did not increase, and we were able to hold on to our frail raft. We couldn’t talk much. I felt anything but merry. Suddenly the grating received a blow, and I saw a dark object rising up above us. I was thrown against it. It was the side of a vessel. I should have been knocked off the grating had I not found a stout rope in my hand. I drew Toby to me, we both clutched it; the grating slipped from under our feet, and there we were hanging on to the side of a strange craft. We shouted out, and were at once drawn on board, and by the light of a lantern, which was held up to examine us, I found that we were on board a small vessel, and surrounded by Frenchmen.

After I had taken Macquoid’s nauseous draught, I went and lay down on my chest. I chose that spot because, from the uncomfortable position in which I was obliged to place myself, I was not likely to go to sleep, and because I was there better able to hear when the boats’ crews were called away. I could not help now and then giving way to a groan, which the sickness and pain of the physic produced.

“Who’s that?” I heard old Perigal inquire, as he was passing to the berth.

“Oh, it’s only that little sneak Merry,” Spellman answered. “He thinks that he may be ordered off in the boat, and is shamming sick to escape, as if such a hop-o’-my-thumb as he is could be of any use.”

“That is not like him. I consider him a very plucky little fellow,” remarked Perigal.

“Thank you, old boy,” I said mentally. “And you, Miss Susan, I’ll be even with you some day for your obliging remarks.”

I cannot say, however, that I felt any enmity towards Spellman on that account. I had not respect enough for him. I would rather, however, have parted with more kindly feelings towards all my messmates on so dangerous an expedition. I could not help thinking over the matter while lying so long silent by myself, but my resolution to accomplish my design was not shaken. My messmates went into the berth, and just then I heard the boats piped away. I ran quickly upon deck, and, while the men were buckling on their cutlasses, I slipped into the pinnace, and stowed myself, as before, into so small a space that even the boatswain, who looked into the boat, did not perceive me. I knew that he looked for me, because I heard his gruff voice say, “All right; he’s not there. He’s thought better of it.” At about half-past nine the final order to shove off was given, and away we went. I got fewer kicks this time, for I took good care to keep my legs out of the way. The men, also, I suspect, guessed that I was there. I knew that I was perfectly safe with them.

The flotilla consisted of fifteen boats, containing nearly three hundred officers and men, not counting myself. After we had got, as I supposed, about a couple of miles from the ship, and I knew that I could not be sent back, I ventured to crawl out and look over the gunnel. The inky sea around us was dotted with boats, all the party keeping pretty close together. The night was so dark that I could see little more than their outlines, as they crept rapidly along, like many-footed monsters, over the deep. I did not fancy that Mr Johnson knew I was there, but his sharp eyes made me out through the gloom.

“Mr Merry, step aft, if you please, sir,” he bawled out suddenly.

Stepping over the oars, I went and sat myself down by him, but said nothing.

“Mr Merry, this conduct is highly reprehensible. I must report it to the captain as soon as we get back, after we have carried and brought out that French corvette, and covered ourselves with honour and glory; and I don’t know what he’ll say to you. And now, sir, after, as in duty bound, from being your superior officer, I have expressed my opinions, I should like to know what you are going to do when we get alongside the enemy?”

“Climb up with the rest, and fight the Frenchmen,” I replied promptly.

“Very good, Mr Merry; but suppose one of the Frenchmen was to give you a poke in the ribs with a boarding-pike, or a shot through the chest, or a slash with a cutlass, what would you do then?”

“Grin and bear it, I suppose, like anybody else,” was my answer.

“Very good, very good, indeed, Mr Merry,” said the boatswain, well-pleased; “that’s the spirit I like, and expected to find in you. Now, my boy, whatever you do, stick by me; I’ll do my best for you. If I get knocked over, and there’s no saying what will happen in desperate work like this, then keep close to Edkins. He’s a good swordsman, and won’t let you be hurt if he can help it. I should be sorry if any harm came to you. But, Mr Merry, how are you going to fight? I don’t see that you have got a sword, and I fancy that you’ll not do much execution with one of the ship’s cutlasses.”

I told him that I had got my dirk, and that I hoped to make good use of that.

He laughed heartily.

“A tailor’s bodkin would be of as much use in boarding,” he answered; “but you shall have one of my pistols; the chances are that I do not require either of them. Cold steel suits me best.”

I thanked Mr Johnson warmly, and then asked him what orders had been received about attacking. He told me that some of the boats were to board on the bows, and others on the quarters of the corvette; that a quarter-master of the Beaulieu, with a party of men to protect him, was to take charge of the helm; that others were to fight their way aloft, to let fall the topsails; and that he, with his men and another boat’s crew, was to hold possession of the forecastle, and to cut the cables. All this was to be done in spite of any fighting which might be taking place. Some were to sheet home the topsails, and the remainder were to do their best to overpower the enemy. We had got some way, when we caught sight of a strange boat inside of us.

The commander of the expedition, supposing that she belonged to the Chevrette, summoning five other boats to attend him, made chase to secure her, ordering his second in command to pull slowly on till he rejoined the expedition. On we went. As to pulling slow, that was a very difficult thing to do just then. So eager were the men, that they couldn’t help putting more strength into their strokes than they intended. All I know is that the nine remaining boats got close up to the harbour’s mouth, and that the others had not joined. We lay on our oars, as ordered, for a short time.

“What can have become of them?” exclaimed a lieutenant in one of the boats.

“Daylight will be upon us if we don’t look sharp,” said another.

“It would be a disgrace to go back without attempting something,” cried a third.

“We will lose no more time, but try what we can do without them,” said the senior officer of the party. He was undoubtedly very eager to lead on the occasion. Certain necessary alterations were made.

“Gentlemen, you all know your respective duties,” he added. “Then give way!”

Right cheerfully the men bent to their oars, and up the harbour we dashed. I kept looking ahead for the enemy. I knew that as soon as we saw her, she would see us, and then the fun would begin. I felt rather nervous, but very eager.

“There she is,” cried the boatswain.

Suddenly through the gloom, I saw the tall masts and spars of the ship we were to attack. A voice from her hailed us in French. Of course our only reply was a hearty cheer, and on we dashed faster than ever. Not unmolested though. The next moment, sheets of flame darted from the ports, from one end of the ship to the other, and showers of grape and bullets rattled about our heads. A groan, or a cry of anguish from some of the boats, told that the emissaries of destruction had taken effect. Thick fell the shot, and the next instant a heavy fire opened on us from the shore; but nothing stopped our progress. On we dashed, and were quickly alongside the enemy. The whole side bristled with boarding-pikes, and as we attempted to climb up, muskets and pistols were discharged in our faces, and tomahawks and sabres came slashing down on our heads. Our men cheered and grasped hold of the ship’s sides, but again and again were thrust back, and then the Frenchmen leaped into our boats, making a dashing effort to drive us out of them. They had better have remained on their own deck, for very few got back. Some did though, and formed shields to our men, who climbed up after them. Meantime, our boat had boarded, as directed, on the starboard bow, but finding it hopeless to get up there, Mr Johnson dropped astern, and perceiving only one boat on the quarter, and space for us to shove in, we hooked on, and the next instant were scrambling up the side. I kept close to the boatswain. I thought that we were about to gain the deck, when the enemy made a rush towards us, and over we went, and I was left clinging to the side, with a dozen sabres flashing above my head. As to letting go, I never thought of that. I kept Mr Johnson’s pistol in my right hand, and was about to fire, when down came a sword, which would have clove my head in two, had not a lieutenant of marines in the next boat interposed his own weapon, and saved me. But the act was one of self-devotion, for the Frenchman brought his sabre down on my preserver’s arm, while another thrust a pike through his body, and hurled him back, mortally wounded, to the bottom of the boat. I should, after all, have shared the same fate, had not Mr Johnson at that instant recovered himself, and with a shout, loud enough to make our enemies quake, up he sprang, and, with one whirl of his cutlass, drove the Frenchmen from the side. Over the bulwarks he leaped; I and most of the men from the two boats followed. But though we had gained the deck, there seemed but little chance of our forcing our way forward.

Our men, in the first desperate struggle alongside, had lost their firearms, and for a few seconds the tall figure of the boatswain, as he stood up facing the enemy, offered a mark to a score of muskets aimed at him. The Frenchmen, expecting to see him fall, came on boldly. I grasped his pistol, hoping to avenge him.

“The forecastle is our station, lads,” he shouted, and his stentorian voice was heard above the din of battle.

“Make a lane, there; make a lane, there,” he added, dashing furiously among the enemy. I followed by his side. His whirling cutlass flashed round, and sent the Frenchmen flying on either side. On we went, intent on our object, bearing down all opposition, to gain the forecastle, while another party had got possession of the helm. The deck was by this time covered with killed and wounded. Many of our men had fallen. We strode over friend and foe alike, alive or dead. The break of the topgallant forecastle was gained. It was desperately defended, but the boatswain, clearing with a sweep of his cutlass a spot to stand on, sprang up among the astonished Frenchmen. I felt myself lifted up after him; our men followed; and though pikes were thrust at us, and pistols were flashed in our faces for a few seconds, our opponents either leaped overboard or threw themselves on the deck, and sang out for quarter. Some of our men, appointed for the purpose, went to the head sails, while others instantly cut the cable. I glanced my eye upwards; the topmen, who had fought their way aloft, had cut loose the topsails with their cutlasses, and they were now being sheeted home; but the fighting was not over, a desperate attempt was being made by the enemy to drive us out of the ship. The boatswain, meantime, was uttering his war shouts, issuing orders to the men, and dealing death and wounds around.

“Old England for ever I hoist the fore-staysail. Back, ye Johnny Crapeaus! Back, ye French scarecrows! Haul away, my lads, and belay all that. Hurra! we’ve gained the day!”

In the latter assertion he was somewhat premature, for the French crew, now rallying amidships, made a desperate attack on the forecastle, but the boatswain’s flashing weapon literally cut them down like corn before the reaper’s scythe, as they came on. Still they pressed round us. Most of our men were occupied in making sail.

A big Frenchman, the boatswain of the ship, I fancy, who was almost as big as Jonathan himself, now sprang ahead of his comrades to measure his strength with our champion. He was evidently a first-rate swordsman, and in his progress forward had already cut down two or three of our men. He shouted something to his companions; it was, I suspected, to tell them to try and wound Mr Johnson while he was engaging him in front. I had hitherto grasped the pistol he had given me, but had not fired it. I felt for the lock. On came the Frenchmen; Mr Johnson had need of all his skill to keep his enemies at bay. The French boatswain pressed him desperately hard. One of his mates rushed in, and was bringing down his cutlass with a terrific sweep, which would have half cut our boatswain in two, when, raising my pistol, I fired at the man’s head. The bullet went through his brain, and his cutlass, though wounding Johnson slightly in the leg, fell to the deck. The boatswain’s weapon meantime was not idle, and at the same moment it descended with a sweep which cut the Frenchman’s head nearly in two, and he fell dead among his comrades. It was at that instant the French discovered that their ship was under way. “Sauve qui peut!” was the cry. Some jumped overboard and endeavoured to swim on shore. Many leaped below, either in fear or with determination still to carry on the fight, and others threw down their arms and cried for mercy. Not a cutlass was raised on them after that, but the fellows who fled below had got possession of some muskets, and began firing at all of us who appeared near the hatchways. A party of our men, however, leaped down among them and quickly put a stop to their proceedings.

The ship was now completely under our command; the sails filled, she felt the helm, and was standing down the harbour. Though it appeared to me nearly an hour, if not more, I found that not five minutes had passed since the boats got alongside. But we were not quite free. We were congratulating ourselves on our success, when a shot whistled between our masts, followed by another, and a heavy battery opened upon us. We were too busy to reply to it, and the men went about their work just as coolly as if nothing was occurring. The wind was light, and we were a long time exposed to the fire of the battery. Mr Johnson, between pulling and hauling, for he lent a hand to everybody, apostrophised the masts, and urged them not to get shot away. He evidently thought more of them just then than of anything else. They were in his department.

“I wonder, Mr Johnson, whether any of us will have to change heads?” said I.

“If you and I did, you’d look rather funny with my mug on your shoulders,” he answered, with a loud laugh. “Even your own mother wouldn’t know you, I suspect.” Just then a shower of grape came rattling round us, and though I could hear the shot whistling by, close to my ears, not one of us was hit. I could not help wishing that a breeze would spring up, and carry us clear of the unpleasant neighbourhood. Just then the missing boats arrived, and rather surprised our friends were to find that we had already secured the prize. Though too late to help to take her, they were of great assistance in towing her out of range of the enemy’s batteries, and I believe some of the poor fellows in them were hit while so employed. At length a breeze sprang up, and all sail being made, right merrily we glided out of the enemy’s harbour, much, undoubtedly, to their disgust, and to our very great satisfaction.

Now came the sad work of counting the killed and wounded. We had lost twelve of the former, two being officers, and nearly five times that number wounded; while we found that the corvette had her captain, three lieutenants, and three midshipmen, and eighty-five seamen and soldiers killed, being ninety-two killed, though only sixty-two were wounded. The deck was a complete shambles: the wounded were carried below, friends and foes alike, though the dead Frenchmen were hove overboard at once. Our own dead, being not so numerous, were kept to be committed to the deep with more ceremony in the morning. Among them was a midshipman. I could not help lifting up the flag which covered his face. Poor fellow, there he lay, stiff and stark! A jovial laughing fellow he had been, cracking his jokes but a few minutes before, just as we were entering the harbour. Such might have been my fate. He had fallen, though in the path of duty. He had been ordered to come. I felt more sad, and was more thoughtful, than I had ever been in my life before. How long I stood there I do not know. Mr Johnson’s voice aroused me.

“I haven’t had time to speak to you before, Mr Merry,” said he. “You did very well,—very well indeed. Jonathan Johnson thanks you from the bottom of his heart; that he does. If it hadn’t been for your steady aim, and the unfailing accuracy of my pistol which you fired, I should now be among those lying there, covered with glory;—a very fine thing in theory to be covered with, but, practically, I would rather be alive, and have less of it. However, I mustn’t stop talking here. By the bye, there’s Mr Bryan has found you out. I will tell him how you have behaved, and I dare say that he’ll not get you into trouble, if he can help it.”

I thought that would be very kind in Mr Bryan. It did not occur to me that I had done anything to be proud of; nor had I, indeed. I had done what I ought not to have done. I wanted to see some fighting; I had seen it, and just then I felt that I did not want to see any more. The face of that dead midshipman haunted me. I had had a sort of a notion that midshipmen could not be killed, and now I had had proof positive to the contrary. I felt unusually grave and sad. For a long time I could not get the face out of my head. I believe that it contributed to sober me, and to prevent me from being the reckless creature I might otherwise have become.

Day broke as we hove in sight of the squadron, and loud cheers saluted us as we brought up in triumph among them. A prize crew was put in charge of the captured ship, and I returned in the pinnace with the boatswain to the Doris. I was in hopes of getting on board without being observed, but too many eyes were gazing down on us for me to do that. Spellman was, of course, one of the first to discover me.

“What, you there, ‘hop o’ me?’” he exclaimed; “how did you tumble into the boat?”

“Don’t answer him,” whispered the boatswain, as we climbed up the side; “I’ll let him know what I think of you and him.”

I ran down below as fast as I could to change my clothes and wash, for I was dreadfully dirty, covered from head to foot with powder and blood. The first person I encountered was Toby Bluff.

“Oh! Muster Merry, Muster Merry! Be you really and truly alive?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms round my neck, and bursting into tears. “They told me you was gone away to be killed by the Frenchmen, and I never expected to see you more; that I didn’t. But is it yourself, squire? You looks awful smoky and bloody loike. Where are all the wounds? You’ll be bleeding to death, sure. Let me run for the doctor.”

He would have been off like a shot, but I assured him that I was not hurt. After he was satisfied that such was the case, I despatched him to the cook’s galley to procure some hot water, with which, and the aid of soap, I managed speedily to get rid of the stains of the fight. By the time I got to rights, breakfast was on the table, and I went into the berth and sat myself down as if nothing had happened. I flattered myself that my messmates looked at me with considerable respect, though they badgered me not a little.

“Where have you been, youngster?” said one. “You’ll catch it, my boy!”

“What have you been about, Merry?” asked old Perigal, who was rather annoyed at not having been allowed to go. “Getting most kicks or halfpence, I wonder? but ‘duty is duty, and discipline is discipline,’ as the master remarks; and you mustn’t be playing these pranks, my boy, or you’ll get knocked on the head or turned out of the service. Over zeal is not approved of at head-quarters.”

I went on eating my breakfast with perfect equanimity, and I very soon found that my messmates were eager to have an account of the expedition, which I was able to give them with tolerable clearness. I was still somewhat uncomfortable as to what the captain would say, and, before long, he sent for me. I went trembling. He received me, however, very kindly, though he was somewhat grave.

“The boatswain speaks in the highest terms of your coolness and courage, and says that you saved his life. I am therefore willing to overlook your infraction of the rules of discipline on this occasion, but remember that, however well you may behave in other respects, you can never make wrong right. In consequence of this, I cannot speak of your bravery in public as I should have liked to do.”

This was a good deal for the captain to say, and more, I felt conscious, than I deserved. The officers were very civil to me, and I felt that I had certainly risen in public estimation, and was no longer looked upon as a little boy.

A few days after this Spellman came into the berth in a great rage, stating that he had overheard the boatswain say that Mr Merry was worth his weight in gold, and that he, Spellman, was not worth his in paving-stones. “Listeners never hear any good of themselves,” observed one.

“And if you are not worth your weight in paving-stones, I should like to know what you are worth?” asked old Perigal.

“I am much obliged to the boatswain for his good opinion of me,” said I. “But he probably was thinking of the saying that London is paved with gold, and meant to say that you were worth your weight in gold paving-stones.”

“That may be,” answered Spellman, willing to be pacified; “but I cannot say I liked his tone.”

On this there was a general laugh. The boatswain’s tone was well-known. It was wonderful what withering contempt he could throw into it. The men dreaded it more than they did even his rattan, and that, in his hand, was a somewhat formidable weapon. I remembered his promise when Spellman was quizzing me, on our return from capturing the Chevrette, and I found that he had fulfilled it. I thanked him the next time we met off duty.

“Yes, Mr Merry; I like to serve my friends, and serve out my enemies. Not that poor Mr Spellman is an enemy of yours or mine; but—I say it with all due respect—he is a goose, and I like to baste geese.”

I did not repeat to Spellman what Mr Johnson had said of him. I had an intuitive feeling that it was harmful to tell a person what another says of him, except it happens to be something especially pleasant. I believe more ill-blood and mischief is created in that way than in any other.

Soon after this, we sailed on a cruise to the westward, for the purpose of intercepting some of the enemy’s homeward-bound merchantmen.

Notwithstanding what I have said of Spellman, I was in reality on very good terms with him. He was continually playing me tricks; but then I paid him off in his own coin. I had, however, made the friendship of another messmate, George Grey by name. He was about my own age and size, and came from Leicestershire, but from a different part of the county to that where my family lived. I liked him, because he was such an honest, upright little fellow. No bullying or persuasion could make him do what he thought wrong. I do not mean to say that he never did anything that was wrong. When he did, it was without reflection. I never knew him to do premeditated harm. We stuck by each other on all occasions; skylarked together, studied navigation together; and when we were together the biggest bully in the mess held us in respect. Mr Johnson liked George Grey as much as he did me.

I had never got the boatswain to commence his history. I told Grey that I was determined to get it out of him, as it was certain to be amusing, though we agreed that we were not bound to believe all he said. He certainly was an extraordinary character. A boaster and a man (I do not like to use a harsh term) who is addicted to saying what is not true, is generally found to be a coward, and often a bully; whereas my worthy friend was as brave as a lion and, gruff as was his voice, as gentle as a lamb, as he used to say of himself, if people would but stroke him the right way; and I can assert a kinder hearted monster never lived. Grey and I, one afternoon when it was our watch below, found him in his cabin. He was taking his after-dinner potation of rum and water, y-clept “grog,” and reading by the light of a purser’s dip.

“Come in, young gentlemen, come in, and be seated,” he sang out; and as we willingly obeyed, he added, “This is what I call enjoyment—food for the mind and moisture for the whistle. We have not many opportunities for mental improvement and the enjoyment of light literature, as you may have discovered by this time; and to a man, like myself, of refined taste, that is one of the greatest drawbacks to our noble profession.”

Grey and I did not understand exactly what he meant; but, after letting him run on for a little time, we told him why we had come, and begged him to indulge us by commencing at once.

“There is, as you sagaciously observe, young gentlemen, no time like the present for doing a thing which is to be done; and so,”—and he cleared his throat with a sound which rang along the decks—“I will begin. But remember, now, I’ll have no doubting—no cavilling. If you don’t choose to believe what I say, you need not listen any more. I will not submit to have my word called in question.”

“Heave ahead!” said a voice outside; I suspected it was Spellman’s. I soon found that there were several other listeners, and was afraid Jonathan would refuse to go on; but, in reality, he liked to have a large audience, and seasoned his descriptions accordingly. Again he cleared his throat, and said—

“I’ll begin—as I remarked. My mother was a wonderful woman. I have a great respect for her memory. Joan of Arc, Queen Dido, or the Roman Daughter could not hold a candle to her. She was up to any thing, and, had opportunities offered, would have been the first woman of her age. As it was, she made herself pretty well-known in the world, as you shall hear. When she was quite a young woman she once on a time became first-lieutenant of a dashing frigate. When the captain was killed, she took the ship into action, fought two line-of-battle ships broadside to broadside, and then, when there was not a stick left standing, carried them by boarding. She would have brought both of them into port, but one went down from the severe hammering she had given them. You doubt what I am telling you, young gentlemen, do you? Well, then, I’ll give you proof which ought to satisfy any candid mind that I am speaking the truth. You must know that there is a song written about her; and, of course, if she hadn’t done what I have been telling you it wouldn’t have been written. It runs thus:—

“Billy Taylor was a smart young sailor,Full of life and full of glee,And he went a courting Molly Nailor,A maiden fair of high degree.

“Billy Taylor was a smart young sailor,Full of life and full of glee,And he went a courting Molly Nailor,A maiden fair of high degree.

“That maiden fair was my mother. Billy Taylor, do ye see, went a courting her, and swore that he loved her better than the apple of his eye, or a shipload of prize-money, and no end of glasses of grog, and fifty other things, and that her cheeks were like roses from Persia, and her breath sweeter than the essence of all the gales of Araby that ever blew, and all that sort of thing. She believed him, for she was young and tender hearted, and did not know what horrible falsehoods some men can tell. I do hate a fellow who doesn’t speak the truth. Now, do ye see, that scoundrel Taylor was only bamboozling her all the time, for he went away and fell in with another lady who had more of the shiners, though less beauty, and he having brought to bear the whole broadside of false oaths he had been firing away at my respected mother, the other lady struck her flag and became his wife. Like other wid blades of his stamp, he soon ran through all the poor girl’s money, so he wasn’t a bit the better for it, and she was very much the worse. When she had no more left for him to lay his hand on, he had to go to sea again.

“My mother, who was not my mother then, you’ll understand, because I wasn’t born till some years after that,—and I’m proud to say that my father was a very different man to Billy Taylor. He was an honest man; and when Miss Nailor found out all about Billy Taylor’s treachery, she resolved to be avenged on him. He had entered on board the Thunder bomb, and she heard of it. Accordingly she rigged herself out in a suit of seaman’s clothes, and as her father was a seaman,—an officer, of course, (my parentage was respectable on both sides)—and she knew all about seamen’s ways and sayings, she very easily passed for one.

“One fine morning, off she set in her new toggery for Portsmouth, where the Thunder was fitting out. She had provided herself with a loaded pistol, which she kept in her pocket, vowing to revenge herself on the traitor Taylor.

“As the Thunder was short of hands, the captain was very glad to enter the smart young seaman she seemed to be when she presented herself before him.

“Billy Taylor was aboard, and when she caught sight of his face she had some difficulty in keeping her fingers off it, I believe you. Not that she was otherwise, I’ll have you understand, than a mild tempered woman, when she had her own way, but she had received a good deal of provocation, you’ll allow. The deceiver didn’t know her, and all went on smoothly for some time. She proved herself so smart and active a seaman, (or sea woman,—I should say a mermaid, eh?) that she soon got made captain of the main-top over the head of Billy Taylor and many older hands. How they would have fired up if they had known the truth!

“At last the Thunder sailed down Channel, and my mother began to fancy that all the things she had heard about Taylor might be false, and all her old feeling for him came back. However, as his ill-luck would have it, the ship put into Plymouth Sound, and as she lay there a boat came off from Causand with a lady in it.

“Billy Taylor watched the boat till she came alongside, and when the lady stepped on deck he kissed her lips and folded her in his arms.

“Miss Nailor was standing by. The scene was too much for her.

“‘Oh, you foul traitor!’ she exclaimed, drawing her pistol just as the lady and the deceiver Billy were walking forward hand in hand. ‘Take that!’

“Off went the pistol, and the false lover tumbled over as dead as a herring. The lady, at first, was inclined to go into what the uneducated sailors call high-strikes—you understand, young gentlemen; but she was a strong-minded woman, and when she heard how Billy had been deceiving another girl, she said it served him right, and that she would have nothing more to say to him, dead or alive, and, stepping into her boat, away she went ashore at Causand, where she had come from.

“The captain of the Thunder, when he found out that my mother was a woman, and how she had been treated by Billy Taylor, as the song says, ‘very much approved of what she’d done,’ and declared that she was a fine spirited girl, (which she certainly had proved herself to be), and that he would make her his first-lieutenant as soon as there was a vacancy. You see they did things differently in those days to what they do now. No one ever hears of a young woman being made first-lieutenant, though it is said there are many old women higher up in the list; but it wouldn’t become me, holding the subordinate situation of a boatswain, to credit the fact. The captain very soon had an opportunity of fulfilling his word, for in a very short time the ship went into action, and his next in command being killed, he gave Miss Nailor the death vacancy, and then she became first-lieutenant of the gallant Thunder bomb. However, young gentlemen, I must put a stopper on my jaw-tackle just now. I have had uninvited listeners to my veracious and authentic history, and I hope they have benefited by it.”

Mr Johnson placed his finger on the side of his nose, and winked one of his piercing eyes.

“The fact is, I like to indulge in my faculty of invention and amplification, and you may possibly have an idea that I have done so in the account I have given you of my female parent’s early adventures. Ho! ho! ho!” and he heaved back, and indulged in a long, low, hoarse laugh, such as a facetious hippopotamus might be supposed to produce on hearing a good pun made by an alligator.

Spellman, and the rest who had been listening out side, on this, beat a retreat, suspecting, probably, that the boatswain had been laughing at them.

Our watch was called, and Grey and I had to go on deck. I had by this time picked up a large amount of miscellaneous nautical knowledge, so had Toby in his way. As to going aloft, or in feats of activity, few of the other midshipmen could beat me. I said that I could swim well. Our father had taught us all at an early age, and I could accomplish the passage across the mill-pond five times and back without resting. Toby, too, after I had saved him from drowning, had learned the art. It was fortunate for us that we had done so.

We had returned unsuccessful from our cruise to the westward, and were somewhere about the chops of the Channel. Night was coming on, and it was blowing very fresh.

“A sail on the lee bow!” shouted the look-out from the mast-head. The wind was south-west, and the frigate was close-hauled, heading towards Ushant.

“What do you make of her? Which way is she standing?” asked Captain Collyer, who was on deck.

“Looks like a lugger, standing up Channel,” was the answer.

“Up with the helm, keep her away!” exclaimed the captain.

“All hands make sail.”

In an instant the men were hauling on tacks and sheets, braces and bowlines; the yards were squared away, studding sails were set, and off we flew before the wind like an eagle at its prey. The chase kept on before the wind. I had gone up into the fore-top, though I had no business to be there, but it happened to be the station of my particular chum, Grey, and I could enjoy a better sight of the chase from thence than elsewhere.

As the evening advanced, the wind increased, but we were gaining rapidly on the chase, and of course the captain was unwilling to shorten sail. Stays and braces grew tauter and tauter, studden sail-booms cracked, and the topgallant masts bent like willow wands.

“We are going to get it,” observed the captain of the top.

He was right. Away flew the main-topgallant studden sail; the topmast studden sail followed. At the same moment, the foremost guns with a loud roar sent a couple of shot after the chase. It was getting dark, but I felt sure that one had struck her counter. Still she held on, and we continued in chase, she carrying as much sail as she could stagger under.

“We shall carry the masts out of the ship if we don’t look sharp,” observed the captain of the top. The yards cracked more than ever. “All hands shorten sail,” cried the captain from the deck. “In with the studden sails!”

When the men went out on the fore-yard, I, to show my activity and daring to my messmate Grey, went out also. The frigate had begun to pitch and roll a little. By some means I lost my hold, and should have fallen on deck and been killed, had she not rolled at the moment to starboard, and sent me flying overboard.

“There goes poor Marmaduke Merry,” shouted Grey.

I was plunged under the water, but quickly rose to see the frigate flying by me. As she passed, something was thrown from the deck, and the next instant I observed, I fancied, some one leap from the mizen chains. I did not for a moment suppose that I was going to be drowned, but how I was to be saved I could not divine. I swam on till I got hold of a grating which had been thrown to me, and had not long seated myself on it when I heard a voice sing out—

“All right, Master Marmaduke; I said I’d go wherever you did, but to my mind now it would have been better to have stayed on board.”

It was Toby, and after I had helped him up alongside me, I assured him that I agreed with his remark, but that I could not help it. I looked anxiously for the frigate. Her mighty form could only just be distinguished through the gloom, and the lugger could nowhere be seen.

“This isn’t pleasant,” said I. “But keep up your spirits, Toby, I suppose the frigate will turn to look for us, and if not, we must hold on till the morning, when I hope we may be picked up by some ship or other.”

“Ne’er fear, Master Marmaduke,” answered Toby. “If you think it’s all right, I’m happy.”

I certainly did not think it all right, for in a short time it became so dark that we could scarcely see our hands held up before our eyes. As to seeing the frigate, that was out of the question, even if she passed close to us. Happily the gale did not increase, and we were able to hold on to our frail raft. We couldn’t talk much. I felt anything but merry. Suddenly the grating received a blow, and I saw a dark object rising up above us. I was thrown against it. It was the side of a vessel. I should have been knocked off the grating had I not found a stout rope in my hand. I drew Toby to me, we both clutched it; the grating slipped from under our feet, and there we were hanging on to the side of a strange craft. We shouted out, and were at once drawn on board, and by the light of a lantern, which was held up to examine us, I found that we were on board a small vessel, and surrounded by Frenchmen.

Chapter Four.The craft on board which Toby Bluff and I so unexpectedly found ourselves was a lugger, as I discovered by perceiving her yards lying fore and aft along the decks. It was evident that her sails had been lowered when the squall came on, and so she had not been observed as the frigate shot by in the darkness. Owing to this circumstance our lives had in all probability been saved. Not that I thought about that at the time; on the contrary, from the fierce looks of our captors, I fancied that they were going to knock us on the head, and I wished that we were safe back on our raft again. Toby seemed to feel much as I did.“Oh, Muster Merry! be these here fellows going to eat us?” he asked in a tone of alarm.“I hope not, Toby,” I answered. “If they take us, buttons and all, we shall stick in their throats, that’s one comfort. However, we will try and put a good face on the matter, and, whatever happens, we won’t be cast down; only I hope they will not treat us as we have often treated miller’s-thumbs, and throw us into the water again.”While Toby and I were exchanging remarks, the Frenchmen were talking to each other and occasionally asking us questions, I supposed; but as we did not understand a word of each other’s language, neither party was much the wiser. I looked about me. The lugger’s decks were crowded with men, and she had several guns cast loose, ready for action. She was, there could be no doubt, a privateer. I knew that the crews of such vessels were often composed of the worst and most unscrupulous of characters, and I expected nothing very pleasant at their hands. At last the captain, who had been looking out forward at our ship, came up to us.“So, you one little officer of dat frigate dere,” he observed.“Yes,” said I, rather proudly; “I have that honour.”“Sa—!” He gave forth a particularly unpleasant sound from his throat, “You bêtes Anglish, you send my wessel to bottom last cruise, and sixty of my braves-garçons wid her. I vow I send every Anglishman I catch to look for them. S-a-a—.”He looked so vicious that I thought he would execute his threat forthwith. I did my best, however, to put on a bold front.“Whereabouts did this happen, Monsieur?” I asked quite coolly.“Some twenty leagues to eastward dere,” he answered, looking hard at me.“And which way is the tide making,” I inquired. I happened to have heard the master observe just before I went aloft, that the tide had only then made to the westward.“It is vat you call ebb,” said the French captain.“Then you see, monsieur, that there is no use throwing us overboard just now, because we should drift away to the westward, and your late vessel and crew must be somewhere to the eastward,” said I, as boldly as I could, though I had no little difficulty in getting out the words.“Ah! you von Jack-a-napes, you von poule—littel fighting coc, I see,” he remarked in an altered tone. “Vell, you stay aboard; you sweep my cabin; you like dat better dan drown.”“Certainly, monsieur, very much better,” said I, considerably relieved; “I shall be very happy to serve you in any way I can, consistent with my honour, and perhaps you’ll let this boy here help me?”“Bah, no!” answered the captain, giving a contemptuous glance at poor Toby. “He only fit to sweep out de fore hold.”I saw that it would not be wise to say anything more, so I held my tongue.The captain said a few words to the men, and while one led poor Toby forward, another conducted me towards the companion-hatch. Toby turned an imploring look at me, and struggled violently.“Oh, Muster Merry! Muster Merry, they be a-going to cut our throats and heave us overboard. I know they bees; but don’t let them do it till I comes to be with ee,” he cried out. “Don’t ee, now, Muster; don’t ee.”Poor Toby, finding that he could not get loose, began kicking and struggling, and shouting at the top of his voice. This seemed to afford infinite amusement to the Frenchmen, who imitated him; but, in spite of all his efforts, dragged him forward. I, in the meantime, was taken aft, and had just reached the companion-hatch, down which the men were going to thrust me, when the captain came running along the deck, shouting out to his crew. My captors let go of me. In an instant, the halliards, tacks, and sheets were manned; sail was rapidly made; and, two or more reefs having been taken in, away we stood, close-hauled as near to the north-west as the wind would allow. I soon learned the reason of this proceeding. To my great joy, on looking eastward, I discovered the frigate looming through the darkness, about half gun-shot distance from us. Whether the lugger was seen by those on board or not was a question. I rather suspected that Captain Collyer had stood back to look for Toby and me, though it was almost as hopeless as looking for a needle in a bundle of hay, I felt very sure that he would search for us, and that he would rather lose the chance of capturing the schooner than lose us; indeed, I hope that there are not many naval officers who would not have done the same. I anxiously watched the Doris, to see what she would do. The Frenchmen very naturally believed that she was coming after them. While the men were flattening in the sheets, Toby made his escape, and came up to me.“Oh, Muster Merry, who be these people? Where be they taking us to? What be they going to do to us?” he asked in a subdued, frightened tone.“Never mind,” said I, “look there.”I pointed to the frigate, which, as far as I could judge, seeing her through the darkness, had three reefs down in her topsails, and was standing towards us, heeling over to the gale.“Hurra!” shouted Toby, “All right now; she’ll soon be sending this here craft to the bottom. Hurra!”“Very likely,” said I. “But we, perhaps, shall have to go with her, and, just now, the less noise we make the better, or the Frenchmen may be sending us below.” Toby was silent.No sooner were the lugger’s sails hoisted than she was perceived, and in half a minute, to set the matter at rest, a shot from a thirty-nine pounder came flying between the masts. Toby ducked his head. He saw, however, that I did not move mine. I had had so many flying about my ears the night we took the Chevrette that I had got quite accustomed to them. Another shot came, and Toby’s head did not move, as far as I could see. I dare say he blinked his eyes a little; but, as it was dark, I am not certain. It was a trial to our nerves, for the shot whistled near our shoulders, and, though we could not help feeling proud of our shipmates’ gunnery practice, we would rather that they had not aimed so well.“I say, Toby, if, like the boatswain’s acquaintance, you get my head on your shoulders, be honest; don’t go and pass yourself off for me,” I observed.“Lor, Muster Merry, I wouldn’t so for to go to forget myself,” he answered.His tone, more than the words, made me burst into a fit of laughter.“You garçon not laugh long,” observed the captain, as he hurried aft to take a look at the compass. “You merry now, you cry soon.”“I’ll laugh while I can; it’s my nature to be merry, captain,” I answered, determined to appear as brave as possible. “But I say, captain, what does that big ship want you to do?”“Ah you von little rogue,” he answered, less angrily than I might have expected; “you go below, or you get head knock off.”“Thank you,” said I. “But I may have to go lower than I like if I do, so I would rather stay on deck, and see what is going forward.”The captain merely answered “Bah,” as if he had too much to think of just then to trouble himself about us, and issued some orders to his crew. Two long guns were immediately cast loose and pointed at the frigate. “They can’t hope to contend with her,” I observed to Bluff. But they did though, and began blazing away in right good earnest. They fired high, for their object was to wing her. If they could have knocked some of her spars away they would have had a better chance of escaping.The lugger was evidently a very fast craft, and held her own wonderfully. This was soon perceived on board the frigate, which began to fire more rapidly than before. Captain Collyer had not spared powder and shot, and, since we left port, the men had been every day exercised at the guns. The result was now apparent by the number of shot which passed through the sails of the lugger, or struck her. Still the Frenchmen seemed in no way inclined to yield. The captain stood aft, issuing his orders with the greatest coolness. His officers were much less collected, and kept running about with ropes in their hands, frequently striking the men if they flinched from their guns. The lugger, which was really a very powerful vessel, of some two hundred and fifty tons, tore through the seas, which came in cataracts over her bows, deluging her fore and aft.I was glad that Toby and I were near the companion-hatch, that we might hold on tight to it. The scene was stirring in the extreme; rather more than was pleasant indeed. I did not like the state of things, and Toby’s teeth began to chatter in his head. It was very dark. The wind roared through the rigging; the sails, extended to the utmost, would, I thought, burst from the bolt-ropes, or carry the stout mast out of the vessel. The lugger heeled over till the men at the guns were up to their knees in water, and at last they could only fire as she rolled to windward. It must be remembered that the frigate was to leeward. Though she sailed faster than the lugger, the latter was weathering on her. My knowledge of seamanship scarcely enabled me to form a correct judgment as to the Frenchman’s chance of escape, but still I did not fancy that anything could run away from the Doris,—our frigate,—which, I was fully persuaded, was the perfection of naval architecture, and everything a ship should be. The Frenchmen were all this time wonderfully silent, except when a shot whistled past their ears or struck the vessel, and then they gave way to volleys of oaths and execrations, the meaning of which, however, I did not understand. They appeared very resolute, and I thought fully expected to escape.On we tore through the raging sea, and often so blinded were we with the showers of spray which fell on board that the flashes of the guns alone showed us the position of the frigate. I was saying that I was sure Captain Collyer would do his best to pick Toby and me up, and now, when I saw him chasing the lugger, it occurred to me that he must have either guessed that we were on board her, or that he must have come to the conclusion that we were lost.“I wonder what they are saying about us?” I remarked, partly to Toby and partly to myself. “Mr Johnson will be sorry for us, and so will Grey, and so, I really believe, will old Perigal. I don’t think Spellman will, though. I rather suspect he’ll be for constituting himself my heir, and taking possession of my books and things. However, I hope we may some day get on board again, and make him disgorge.”There did not seem much chance of that though. Every moment I expected, should a shot not send her first to the bottom, to see the lugger run her bows right under, as she tore on through the raging waters. The frigate seemed to be gaining very little, if at all, on us. The Frenchmen naturally calculated on the darkness increasing, and when once out of her sight, on being able to alter their course, and get clear away. I devoutly hoped that they would not. Hours, it seemed to me, passed away; still the lugger and the frigate held their relative positions, the latter firing occasionally, but the Frenchmen, after a time, ceased doing so; indeed, in the heavy sea running, they could scarcely work their guns. The wind increased, but there was no sign of shortening sail; the sky sent down deluges of rain; it became darker than ever. I had never, I thought, taken my eyes off the frigate, except when the spray dashed over me, and compelled me to close them for a moment. I was looking in the direction where I had last seen her.“Bluff, do you see her?” I exclaimed suddenly, rubbing my eyes at the same time with all my might, to bring back the object I had lost.“No, Muster Merry. To my mind she isn’t there,” he answered positively.The Frenchmen were of the same opinion, for I heard them chatting away together, and laughing heartily. Still we continued on the same tack. Indeed, to go about would have been a dangerous operation, and to wear would have lost ground, and very likely have brought the lugger back in sight of the frigate. No one had taken any notice of us for a long time. The captain now came to the companion.“Ah! you brave garçon, come here,” he said, as he descended.Giving Bluff a pull, as a sign to come after me, I followed him below. A bright lamp swung from the deck above, and exhibited a well-furnished if not a luxurious cabin, with a table in the centre, on which, secured in the usual way, were bottles and glasses, and deep dishes containing various sorts of viands.“Come, you hungry; sit down,” said the captain,—an order which I very gladly obeyed, though it was far from easy to stick on my chair, or to convey the food to my mouth.“Pierre!” shouted the captain, and a man, who seemed to be his steward, got up from a corner of the cabin where he had been asleep, and stood ready to wait on us. The captain motioned him to give some bread and sausage to Toby, who retired with it to the door, where he sat down to eat it at his leisure.Our host did not talk much. He put a few questions as to the number of the Doris’s guns, and their length and weight of metal, and whether she was reputed a fast sailer; to all which questions I gave honest answers, and he seemed satisfied. He rapidly devoured his food, and was evidently in a hurry to be on deck again. This made me fancy that he was not quite so certain of having escaped the frigate as I had at first supposed. A glass of hot wine and water raised my spirits, for I had been so long in my wet clothes, that, although the weather was warm, I had become very chilly. Without asking his leave, I handed a glass to Toby, who wanted it as much as I did. The captain said nothing, but when he got up to go on deck, he told me that we might take off our clothes, and turn into one of the berths to get warm. At first I was going to do so, but I could not help fancying that some accident might happen, and that I would rather be dressed, so I sat down with Toby on the deck, holding on by the legs of the table.The steward, having stowed away the things, went and lay down in his corner, and soon, by his loud snores, showed that he was again fast asleep. Toby quickly followed his example; and I had been dozing for some time, though I thought that I was awake, when I was aroused by the report of a gun overhead. The lamp had gone out, and left a strong odour of oil in the close cabin. The grey light of dawn streamed down the companion-hatch. Calling Toby, I jumped on deck. There, away to leeward, was the frigate, within gun-shot distance, but this time the lugger had begun the fight, and she had not yet fired. The wind had lessened, and the sea had gone down considerably. The frigate was on our lee-quarter, and I saw that, as soon as she opened her fire, our chance would be a very small one.The French captain, and his officers and men, had got two guns over the quarter, having cut away some of the bulwarks, and were energetically working them, with desperation stamped on their countenances. Toby and I stood, as before, holding on to the companion-hatch, and this time—I must confess it—my teeth, as well as his, chattered with the cold, and damp, and agitation. No one took any notice of us. The Frenchmen were again aiming high, in the hope of knocking away some of the frigate’s spars. They were brave fellows: I could not help admiring them. Shot followed shot in rapid succession. I wondered that Captain Collyer’s patience was not exhausted.“There! I know’d they’d do it,” exclaimed Toby, suddenly. “And catch it if they did!” he added.As he spoke I saw a white splinter glance from the fore-topmast of the frigate, while a rent appeared in the sail. The Frenchmen shouted as if they had done a clever thing, but they had little to shout for; the next instant a shower of round-shot came whistling through our sails, some just above our heads; two struck the lugger’s side, and one killed three men dead on the decks. Though I knew how dangerous was our position I was too eager to see what was taking place to go below. Still the gallant French captain would not strike, but stood as energetically as before, encouraging his men to work the guns. I wished that he would give in though, for my own and Toby’s sake, nor did I think that he had a chance of escaping. There he stood full of life and energy, now hauling on a gun-tackle, now looking along a gun. The next moment there was a whistling and crash of shot, and I saw several mangled forms sent flying along the deck. One was that of the brave captain. I ran to assist him, but though there was a convulsive movement of the limbs, he was perfectly dead. At the same moment down came the lugger’s mainyard. I saw that it was completely up with her at all events. Some of the privateer’s men continued at the guns, but the greater number tumbled headlong down below, to avoid the frigate’s next broadside. My eye glancing up at that moment, I saw the French flag still flying. Believing that the only way to avoid the catastrophe was to haul it down, followed by Toby, I ran aft to do so. I was too late. The Frenchmen fired, and another crushing broadside struck the lugger, and made her reel with the shock. The companion-hatch was knocked to pieces. We should have been killed had we remained at our former post.The next instant there was a fearful cry—the men who had gone below sprang up again with pale faces and cries of terror. The lugger rushed on, made one fearful plunge, and I saw that she was sinking. I had kept my eye on the wreck of the companion-hatch. Dragging Toby with me, I sprang to it and clutched it tightly, and as the sea washed along the deck, and the sinking vessel disappeared, we found ourselves clinging to it and floating on the summit of a curling wave. As soon as I had cleared my eyes from the water, I looked round for the frigate. She was in the act of heaving-to in order to lower her boats. The sea around us was sprinkled with struggling forms, but not half the lugger’s crew were to be seen. Numbers must have gone down in her. Shrieks and cries for help reached our ears, but we could assist no one. Some were clinging to spars and planks, and pieces of the shattered bulwarks; a few were swimming, but the greater number were floundering about; and now I saw a hand disappear—now two were thrown up to sink immediately beneath the waves—now a shriek of agony reached our ears. It was very terrible. The companion-hatch to which Toby and I clung had been so knocked about that it scarcely held together, and I expected every moment that it would go to pieces, and that we should be separated. I earnestly wished for the boats to come to us, and it appeared to me that the frigate was far longer than usual in heaving-to and lowering them. At last, as we rose to the top of a wave, I saw three boats pulling towards us. The men were giving way with all their might as British seamen always will when lives are to be saved, even those of enemies. Several Frenchmen had been picked up, when I saw a boat making towards us. Mr Johnson was steering, and Spellman was the midshipman in her. We were not recognised when we were hauled into the boat, and might not have been had I not said—“What, Spellman, don’t you know me?”“You, Merry,” he exclaimed, looking at me with an astonished gaze. “What business have you here? Why we left you drowning—up Channel somewhere—hours ago.”“Thank you, but we have taken a cruise since then,” said I.“And rather a perilous one, young gentleman,” exclaimed the boatswain, now recognising me. “You had the shot rattling pretty thick about you, and I’m heartily glad to see you safe, that I am.” And he nearly wrung my hand off as he shook it. “I never saw guns better aimed than ours were, except once, and that was when I was attacking a Spanish line-of-battle ship in a jolly boat. I’ll tell you all about it some day, but well just pick up some of these drowning Frenchmen first. Give way, my lads.”The other two boats rescued several of the lugger’s crew; we got hold of six or seven more who were floating on spars or planks; one of them was the second officer of the privateer; but out of a hundred and forty men who were on her decks when she went down, not more than thirty were rescued. Toby and I met with a very pleasant reception when we got on board, and as soon as I had got on some dry clothes and had had a glass of grog to restore my circulation, Captain Collyer sent for me into the cabin to hear an account of our adventures. He seemed highly interested when I told him of the gallantry of the French captain, and expressed his regret at his death. A brave man always appreciates the bravery of his opponent. When I got back to the berth I had to tell the story all over again, and Toby, I have no doubt, was similarly employed among his messmates.“It is very evident, Merry, that you are reserved for a more exalted fate,” was the only comment Spellman made, when I ceased.“Thank you, Miss Susan,” I answered; “I owe you one.”“It is a great pity that the lugger went down, though,” observed old Perigal; “I should have had a chance of taking a run home in her as prize-master, and seeing my wife. Besides, she might have given us a pinch of prize-money.”The regret generally expressed was rather for the loss of the few pounds the lugger might have given them, than for that of the men who formed the crew.“What! I did not know that you were married,” I observed to Perigal when he said he was married.“But I am, though; and to a young and charming wife who deserves a better husband,” he answered in an abrupt way. “If it wasn’t for her I shouldn’t be now knocking about the ocean as I have been all my life; and yet, if it was not for her I should have very little to keep me on shore. It’s the prize-money, the booty, keeps me afloat. I am an arrant buccaneer at heart.”“I should not have supposed you that,” said I. It was now evening, and old Perigal had his glass of grog before him. On these occasions he was always somewhat communicative.“I’ve been married six years or more,” he continued in a half whisper. “My wife is the daughter of an old shipmate who was killed in action by my side. His last words were, ‘Take care of my orphan child—my Mary.’ I promised him I would as long as I had life and a shilling in my pocket. I expected to see a little girl with a big bow at her waist, and a doll in her arms—as he’d described her. He’d been five years from home or more, poor fellow. Instead of that, I found a handsome young woman, tall and graceful. What could I do? I was struck all of a heap, as the saying is; and I discovered at last, that though I was but a mate in the service, and an old fellow to boot compared to her, she liked me; so we married. I’d saved some little prize-money, and I thought myself rich; but it went wonderfully quick, and a rogue of a fellow who borrowed some wouldn’t even pay me; and if it hadn’t been for the sake of Mary I wouldn’t have said anything to him, but let the coin burn a hole in his pockets. I went to law, and the upshot was that I lost all I had remaining. Now came the tug of war. Was I to go to sea again and leave Mary? I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Anything would be better than that. I would enter into some business. A bright idea struck me. Three or four hundred pounds would enable me to carry it out. Mary and I agreed that I should have no difficulty in getting that, I had so many friends. I would pay them a good interest. I tried. You should have seen how they buttoned up their pockets and pursed up their lips; how many similar applications they had, how many decayed relations wanted their assistance! They didn’t say, however, that they had assisted them. I had no business to complain; I had made a mistake, and I felt ashamed of myself. At first, though my heart swelled, I was very angry; but I got over that feeling, and I resolved to trust to myself alone. It was not till then that I recovered my self-respect. I say, Merry; if you fancy that you have many friends, don’t you ever attempt to borrow money from them, or you’ll find that you are woefully mistaken. Mary and I talked the matter over, and she settled to keep a school, and I to come to sea again.“It was a sore trial, youngster, and you may fancy that a rich galleon wouldn’t be an unacceptable prize, to save the poor girl from the drudgery she has to go through. It wasn’t the way her poor father expected me to treat her, but I have done my best; what can a man do more?”The old mate was going to help himself to another glass, but he put the bottle away from him with resolution. I had observed that he often took more than anybody else in the mess; but after that, whenever I saw him doing so, I had only to mention his wife, and he instantly stopped. From this account he had given of himself I liked him much better than ever.I one day asked Mr Bryan, who knew his wife, about her, and he told me that she was a very superior young lady, and that he could not overpraise her.Of all my shipmates, Grey seemed most pleased at having me back again, and he assured me that had he been able to swim he would have jumped after me, and I believe that he would have done so. I promised on the first opportunity to teach him to swim. People are surprised that so many sailors cannot swim, but the truth is, that when once they get to sea, they often have fewer opportunities of learning than have people living on shore. In southern climates some captains, when it is calm, allow the men to go overboard; but in northern latitudes they cannot do this, and many captains do not trouble themselves about the matter. My advice therefore is, that all boys should team to swim before they come to sea, and to swim in their clothes.Next to Grey, I believe Mr Johnson was most satisfied that I was not drowned.“I had written an account of what had happened to your disconsolate parents, and had taken an opportunity of praising you as you deserved; but as you are alive, I’ll put it by, it will serve for another occasion,” he observed.I thanked him, and begged him to give me the letter, which, after some persuasion, he did. I enclosed it to my sisters, assuring them that it was written under an erroneous impression that I was no longer a denizen of this world, and begged, them not to be at all alarmed, as I was well and merry as ever:“Sir,—Your son and I, though he was only a midshipman,—I am boatswain of this ship—were, I may say, friends and companions; and therefore I take up my pen to tell you the sad news, that he and boy Bluff went overboard together this evening, and were lost, though we didn’t fail to look for them. It may be a consolation to you to know that they always did their duty, which wasn’t much, nor very well done, nor of any use to anybody, but that was no fault of theirs, seeing that they didn’t know better. Then you’ll not fail to remember that there’s no longer any chance of your son being hung, which has been the fate of many a pretty man, either by mistake or because he deserved it, and that must be a comfort to you. I’ve nothing more to say at present.“From your obedient servant,“Jonathan Johnson,“Boatswain of His British Majesty’s frigate Doris.”I had hopes that the letter would afford infinite satisfaction to my home circle.We ran back to Plymouth with our prisoners, and then receiving sealed orders, sailed for the westward. On the captain opening his orders we found that we were bound for the North American and West India Station.One day, as Mr Johnson seemed in an especially good humour, I got Grey to come, and we begged hard that he would go on with his history.“Ah yes, my true and veracious narrative,” he answered. “Ho! ho! ho!”His ogre-like laugh sounded along the deck, and served as a gong to summon an audience around him, though only a favoured few ventured into his cabin.“I was telling you about my maternal parent, the estimable Mrs Johnson. I was alluding to times before she assumed that appellation, or became my parent. I brought up my history to the period when she became first-lieutenant of the gallant Thunder bomb. She did not remain in that craft long, for the captain, officers, and crew, were turned over to a dashing, slashing, thirty-six gun frigate, the Firegobbler. It is extraordinary what a number of actions that frigate fought, and what other wonders she performed all owing to my mother, I believe you. At last, one day, not far off from the chops of the Channel, a large ship, under Spanish colours, was sighted. The Firegobbler gave chase, and a running fight ensued, during which a shot killed the captain, and of course my mother, who took command, followed up the enemy.“Before the day was over, another Spanish line-of-battle ship hove in sight, and when the two closed each other, they hove-to, and waited for the Firegobbler, which wasn’t long in getting into action. Then, I believe you, she did give them a hammering, in such right good earnest, that, before the sun set, they criedpeccavi, and struck their flags. As I told you, the other day, she brought them both in triumph into Plymouth. Now, by all the rules of the service, she ought to have been promoted, you’ll allow; but, by some means or other, the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty found out that she was a woman,—perhaps some jealous fellow peached on her,—and, think of their ingratitude, not only wouldn’t they give her a commander’s rank, but they superseded her, and would by no manner of means allow her to remain in the ship. To my mind, those big-wigs up in London have no consciences. What encouragement is there for a spirited young woman to go and fight her country’s battles? None! that’s a fact! Miss Nailor had to go on shore. But she couldn’t bear a quiet life; so, slipping on seamen’s clothes again, she shipped aboard another frigate, but, of course, she had to go before the mast. That made little difference to her; she loved the sea for itself, and didn’t care where she was. For some time she got on very well; but she didn’t always remember that she was no longer a first-lieutenant—which was natural, poor thing! Well, one day, when off the coast of America, she quarrelled with the man who was first-lieutenant, and meeting him on shore, she put a pistol into his hand, and told him he must fight her. He was a spirited fellow, and said that he never refused that sort of invitation, and as it was in the chief street of a large city, they had plenty of seconds. Well, they fought, and she had the misfortune to shoot him through the heart. Most men would have died immediately, but he lived long enough to forgive her for what she’d done, and to say what a fine fellow he thought her. Of course, as it’s against the articles of war to shoot a first-lieutenant, she couldn’t go aboard the frigate again; and when a file of marines came to seize her, the people of the place carried her off, and wouldn’t give her up, and so the jollies had to return without her. Two parties were formed in the place. One said she ought to be given up, and the other, that she oughtn’t, and shouldn’t, and that they wouldn’t. It was one of the secret causes of the American revolution.“Among those who sided with her was a Captain Johnson, a very fine man, master of a very fine ship, and as he happened to want a mate, he asked my mother if she would take the berth, not dreaming all the time that she was a woman. They had a good deal of talk about the matter, and as she had taken a fancy to him, she told him all her history. I have said that my father was a fine man. He was the tallest and smartest man I ever saw, and had the loudest voice, too, I believe you, or he wouldn’t have won the heart of my mother. She wasn’t a woman to knock under to an ordinary, everyday sort of man. He was so tall, that the barber had to stand on the table to shave him, and as he walked along the streets, he could hand sugar-plums to the children in the upper windows; and his voice was so loud, that he once made a stone-deaf woman jump off her chair, right up to the ceiling, with fright, when he raised it above the ordinary pitch to speak to her; and he was so strong, that he made nothing of lifting an ale cask to his lips, and drinking out of the bung-hole. He was the man to command a ship’s company! When he found any two of them quarrelling, he would lift one up in each hand, with outstretched arms, and he would then knock their two heads together, and go on bumping harder and harder till they promised to be friends.“No two people could have been better matched than my parents, and they had a sincere respect for each other. They were above anything like a namby-pamby, soft sighing, do-sweetest, kiss-me style of love. My father made his offer from the deck of his ship, as she was standing out of harbour, and my mother answered him from the shore through a speaking-trumpet. The truth was, that when the owners heard that she was a woman, they didn’t approve of her going as mate; they thought that it would invalidate the insurance.“The wind fell outside, so he dropped anchor and pulled on shore, and was married, and, of course, off she went to sea with him. A very useful wife, too, she made, for though she didn’t wear the breeches, she could take command of the ship better than any one else on board. Thus it was that I came to be born at sea. There was a terrific gale blowing, and the ship was running under bare poles during the time that important event in the world’s history occurred.“‘The wind it whistled, the porpoise roll’d,The dolphins rear’d their backs of gold;And never was heard such an outcry wildAs welcomed to life the ocean-child.’“I believe you, my hearties, that was a gale! I don’t believe the sea ever ran so high before, or has ever run so high since. We were fully half an hour going up the side of one sea, and nearly a quarter sliding down into the trough on the other—so I have been told: I cannot say that I remember the circumstance, though I do recollect things which happened a long time ago.“I was a precocious child, let me tell you. I had as fine a set of teeth as ever cracked biscuit by the time I was six months old, and lived upon lobscouse and porter. I was weaned by that time, and I wasn’t two years old when I could go aloft like a monkey. It wouldn’t have done for me to have been like any every-day sort of baby.”I was almost inclined to believe Mr Johnson’s assertions, for, as I looked at the huge red-nosed man before me, I could scarcely persuade myself that he had ever been a baby in long clothes.“Speaking of monkeys,” continued Mr Johnson, winking his eye, “I once had a desperate fight with one, when I wasn’t much more than three years old. I was sitting on the main-truck, with my legs dangling down, as was my custom when I wanted a good allowance of fresh air. We had a monkey aboard—a mischievous chap,—and when he saw me, he swarmed up the mast, and, putting up his paw, snatched a biscuit out of my jacket-pocket. I gave him a slap on the head, and in return he bit my leg, and tried to pull me down. To be even with him, I jumped on his shoulders, and down we slipped together, till we reached the topmast cross-trees. There I got a rope, and, lashing him to the heel of the topgallant-mast, sang out to the hands in the top that they might see what I had done. You may be sure that they were very much astonished.“I was a great favourite among the crew, and ran no slight chance of being spoilt. I could dance a hornpipe with any man on board; and as for singing a rollicking sea-song, there were few who could match me. I soon learned to hand reef, steer, and heave the lead, as well as any man on board. My mother was proud of me, and so was my father; and they had reason to be, and that’s the truth.“At last it struck them that they ought to give me some education, to fit me to become an officer and a gentleman. I, however, was not fond of books, but I learned to read chiefly from the signboards over the shop fronts along the quays at the different ports to which we traded. Not that I required much instruction, for I picked up knowledge faster than most people could serve it out to me.“I was one morning sent on shore to school, but the master thinking fit to cane me, I tucked him up under my arm, and walked off with him on board the ship, where I stowed him under hatches, and kept him there till he promised to treat me in future with more respect. After this little occurrence we were very good friends; but when the ship went to sea, he begged that I might on no account be left behind. That was but natural, for I hadn’t got into shore ways exactly.”The cry, from the deck, of “All hands make sail!” interrupted Mr Johnson’s veracious narrative.“A chase in sight,” he exclaimed; “and a prize she’ll prove, though we have to fight for her!”

The craft on board which Toby Bluff and I so unexpectedly found ourselves was a lugger, as I discovered by perceiving her yards lying fore and aft along the decks. It was evident that her sails had been lowered when the squall came on, and so she had not been observed as the frigate shot by in the darkness. Owing to this circumstance our lives had in all probability been saved. Not that I thought about that at the time; on the contrary, from the fierce looks of our captors, I fancied that they were going to knock us on the head, and I wished that we were safe back on our raft again. Toby seemed to feel much as I did.

“Oh, Muster Merry! be these here fellows going to eat us?” he asked in a tone of alarm.

“I hope not, Toby,” I answered. “If they take us, buttons and all, we shall stick in their throats, that’s one comfort. However, we will try and put a good face on the matter, and, whatever happens, we won’t be cast down; only I hope they will not treat us as we have often treated miller’s-thumbs, and throw us into the water again.”

While Toby and I were exchanging remarks, the Frenchmen were talking to each other and occasionally asking us questions, I supposed; but as we did not understand a word of each other’s language, neither party was much the wiser. I looked about me. The lugger’s decks were crowded with men, and she had several guns cast loose, ready for action. She was, there could be no doubt, a privateer. I knew that the crews of such vessels were often composed of the worst and most unscrupulous of characters, and I expected nothing very pleasant at their hands. At last the captain, who had been looking out forward at our ship, came up to us.

“So, you one little officer of dat frigate dere,” he observed.

“Yes,” said I, rather proudly; “I have that honour.”

“Sa—!” He gave forth a particularly unpleasant sound from his throat, “You bêtes Anglish, you send my wessel to bottom last cruise, and sixty of my braves-garçons wid her. I vow I send every Anglishman I catch to look for them. S-a-a—.”

He looked so vicious that I thought he would execute his threat forthwith. I did my best, however, to put on a bold front.

“Whereabouts did this happen, Monsieur?” I asked quite coolly.

“Some twenty leagues to eastward dere,” he answered, looking hard at me.

“And which way is the tide making,” I inquired. I happened to have heard the master observe just before I went aloft, that the tide had only then made to the westward.

“It is vat you call ebb,” said the French captain.

“Then you see, monsieur, that there is no use throwing us overboard just now, because we should drift away to the westward, and your late vessel and crew must be somewhere to the eastward,” said I, as boldly as I could, though I had no little difficulty in getting out the words.

“Ah! you von Jack-a-napes, you von poule—littel fighting coc, I see,” he remarked in an altered tone. “Vell, you stay aboard; you sweep my cabin; you like dat better dan drown.”

“Certainly, monsieur, very much better,” said I, considerably relieved; “I shall be very happy to serve you in any way I can, consistent with my honour, and perhaps you’ll let this boy here help me?”

“Bah, no!” answered the captain, giving a contemptuous glance at poor Toby. “He only fit to sweep out de fore hold.”

I saw that it would not be wise to say anything more, so I held my tongue.

The captain said a few words to the men, and while one led poor Toby forward, another conducted me towards the companion-hatch. Toby turned an imploring look at me, and struggled violently.

“Oh, Muster Merry! Muster Merry, they be a-going to cut our throats and heave us overboard. I know they bees; but don’t let them do it till I comes to be with ee,” he cried out. “Don’t ee, now, Muster; don’t ee.”

Poor Toby, finding that he could not get loose, began kicking and struggling, and shouting at the top of his voice. This seemed to afford infinite amusement to the Frenchmen, who imitated him; but, in spite of all his efforts, dragged him forward. I, in the meantime, was taken aft, and had just reached the companion-hatch, down which the men were going to thrust me, when the captain came running along the deck, shouting out to his crew. My captors let go of me. In an instant, the halliards, tacks, and sheets were manned; sail was rapidly made; and, two or more reefs having been taken in, away we stood, close-hauled as near to the north-west as the wind would allow. I soon learned the reason of this proceeding. To my great joy, on looking eastward, I discovered the frigate looming through the darkness, about half gun-shot distance from us. Whether the lugger was seen by those on board or not was a question. I rather suspected that Captain Collyer had stood back to look for Toby and me, though it was almost as hopeless as looking for a needle in a bundle of hay, I felt very sure that he would search for us, and that he would rather lose the chance of capturing the schooner than lose us; indeed, I hope that there are not many naval officers who would not have done the same. I anxiously watched the Doris, to see what she would do. The Frenchmen very naturally believed that she was coming after them. While the men were flattening in the sheets, Toby made his escape, and came up to me.

“Oh, Muster Merry, who be these people? Where be they taking us to? What be they going to do to us?” he asked in a subdued, frightened tone.

“Never mind,” said I, “look there.”

I pointed to the frigate, which, as far as I could judge, seeing her through the darkness, had three reefs down in her topsails, and was standing towards us, heeling over to the gale.

“Hurra!” shouted Toby, “All right now; she’ll soon be sending this here craft to the bottom. Hurra!”

“Very likely,” said I. “But we, perhaps, shall have to go with her, and, just now, the less noise we make the better, or the Frenchmen may be sending us below.” Toby was silent.

No sooner were the lugger’s sails hoisted than she was perceived, and in half a minute, to set the matter at rest, a shot from a thirty-nine pounder came flying between the masts. Toby ducked his head. He saw, however, that I did not move mine. I had had so many flying about my ears the night we took the Chevrette that I had got quite accustomed to them. Another shot came, and Toby’s head did not move, as far as I could see. I dare say he blinked his eyes a little; but, as it was dark, I am not certain. It was a trial to our nerves, for the shot whistled near our shoulders, and, though we could not help feeling proud of our shipmates’ gunnery practice, we would rather that they had not aimed so well.

“I say, Toby, if, like the boatswain’s acquaintance, you get my head on your shoulders, be honest; don’t go and pass yourself off for me,” I observed.

“Lor, Muster Merry, I wouldn’t so for to go to forget myself,” he answered.

His tone, more than the words, made me burst into a fit of laughter.

“You garçon not laugh long,” observed the captain, as he hurried aft to take a look at the compass. “You merry now, you cry soon.”

“I’ll laugh while I can; it’s my nature to be merry, captain,” I answered, determined to appear as brave as possible. “But I say, captain, what does that big ship want you to do?”

“Ah you von little rogue,” he answered, less angrily than I might have expected; “you go below, or you get head knock off.”

“Thank you,” said I. “But I may have to go lower than I like if I do, so I would rather stay on deck, and see what is going forward.”

The captain merely answered “Bah,” as if he had too much to think of just then to trouble himself about us, and issued some orders to his crew. Two long guns were immediately cast loose and pointed at the frigate. “They can’t hope to contend with her,” I observed to Bluff. But they did though, and began blazing away in right good earnest. They fired high, for their object was to wing her. If they could have knocked some of her spars away they would have had a better chance of escaping.

The lugger was evidently a very fast craft, and held her own wonderfully. This was soon perceived on board the frigate, which began to fire more rapidly than before. Captain Collyer had not spared powder and shot, and, since we left port, the men had been every day exercised at the guns. The result was now apparent by the number of shot which passed through the sails of the lugger, or struck her. Still the Frenchmen seemed in no way inclined to yield. The captain stood aft, issuing his orders with the greatest coolness. His officers were much less collected, and kept running about with ropes in their hands, frequently striking the men if they flinched from their guns. The lugger, which was really a very powerful vessel, of some two hundred and fifty tons, tore through the seas, which came in cataracts over her bows, deluging her fore and aft.

I was glad that Toby and I were near the companion-hatch, that we might hold on tight to it. The scene was stirring in the extreme; rather more than was pleasant indeed. I did not like the state of things, and Toby’s teeth began to chatter in his head. It was very dark. The wind roared through the rigging; the sails, extended to the utmost, would, I thought, burst from the bolt-ropes, or carry the stout mast out of the vessel. The lugger heeled over till the men at the guns were up to their knees in water, and at last they could only fire as she rolled to windward. It must be remembered that the frigate was to leeward. Though she sailed faster than the lugger, the latter was weathering on her. My knowledge of seamanship scarcely enabled me to form a correct judgment as to the Frenchman’s chance of escape, but still I did not fancy that anything could run away from the Doris,—our frigate,—which, I was fully persuaded, was the perfection of naval architecture, and everything a ship should be. The Frenchmen were all this time wonderfully silent, except when a shot whistled past their ears or struck the vessel, and then they gave way to volleys of oaths and execrations, the meaning of which, however, I did not understand. They appeared very resolute, and I thought fully expected to escape.

On we tore through the raging sea, and often so blinded were we with the showers of spray which fell on board that the flashes of the guns alone showed us the position of the frigate. I was saying that I was sure Captain Collyer would do his best to pick Toby and me up, and now, when I saw him chasing the lugger, it occurred to me that he must have either guessed that we were on board her, or that he must have come to the conclusion that we were lost.

“I wonder what they are saying about us?” I remarked, partly to Toby and partly to myself. “Mr Johnson will be sorry for us, and so will Grey, and so, I really believe, will old Perigal. I don’t think Spellman will, though. I rather suspect he’ll be for constituting himself my heir, and taking possession of my books and things. However, I hope we may some day get on board again, and make him disgorge.”

There did not seem much chance of that though. Every moment I expected, should a shot not send her first to the bottom, to see the lugger run her bows right under, as she tore on through the raging waters. The frigate seemed to be gaining very little, if at all, on us. The Frenchmen naturally calculated on the darkness increasing, and when once out of her sight, on being able to alter their course, and get clear away. I devoutly hoped that they would not. Hours, it seemed to me, passed away; still the lugger and the frigate held their relative positions, the latter firing occasionally, but the Frenchmen, after a time, ceased doing so; indeed, in the heavy sea running, they could scarcely work their guns. The wind increased, but there was no sign of shortening sail; the sky sent down deluges of rain; it became darker than ever. I had never, I thought, taken my eyes off the frigate, except when the spray dashed over me, and compelled me to close them for a moment. I was looking in the direction where I had last seen her.

“Bluff, do you see her?” I exclaimed suddenly, rubbing my eyes at the same time with all my might, to bring back the object I had lost.

“No, Muster Merry. To my mind she isn’t there,” he answered positively.

The Frenchmen were of the same opinion, for I heard them chatting away together, and laughing heartily. Still we continued on the same tack. Indeed, to go about would have been a dangerous operation, and to wear would have lost ground, and very likely have brought the lugger back in sight of the frigate. No one had taken any notice of us for a long time. The captain now came to the companion.

“Ah! you brave garçon, come here,” he said, as he descended.

Giving Bluff a pull, as a sign to come after me, I followed him below. A bright lamp swung from the deck above, and exhibited a well-furnished if not a luxurious cabin, with a table in the centre, on which, secured in the usual way, were bottles and glasses, and deep dishes containing various sorts of viands.

“Come, you hungry; sit down,” said the captain,—an order which I very gladly obeyed, though it was far from easy to stick on my chair, or to convey the food to my mouth.

“Pierre!” shouted the captain, and a man, who seemed to be his steward, got up from a corner of the cabin where he had been asleep, and stood ready to wait on us. The captain motioned him to give some bread and sausage to Toby, who retired with it to the door, where he sat down to eat it at his leisure.

Our host did not talk much. He put a few questions as to the number of the Doris’s guns, and their length and weight of metal, and whether she was reputed a fast sailer; to all which questions I gave honest answers, and he seemed satisfied. He rapidly devoured his food, and was evidently in a hurry to be on deck again. This made me fancy that he was not quite so certain of having escaped the frigate as I had at first supposed. A glass of hot wine and water raised my spirits, for I had been so long in my wet clothes, that, although the weather was warm, I had become very chilly. Without asking his leave, I handed a glass to Toby, who wanted it as much as I did. The captain said nothing, but when he got up to go on deck, he told me that we might take off our clothes, and turn into one of the berths to get warm. At first I was going to do so, but I could not help fancying that some accident might happen, and that I would rather be dressed, so I sat down with Toby on the deck, holding on by the legs of the table.

The steward, having stowed away the things, went and lay down in his corner, and soon, by his loud snores, showed that he was again fast asleep. Toby quickly followed his example; and I had been dozing for some time, though I thought that I was awake, when I was aroused by the report of a gun overhead. The lamp had gone out, and left a strong odour of oil in the close cabin. The grey light of dawn streamed down the companion-hatch. Calling Toby, I jumped on deck. There, away to leeward, was the frigate, within gun-shot distance, but this time the lugger had begun the fight, and she had not yet fired. The wind had lessened, and the sea had gone down considerably. The frigate was on our lee-quarter, and I saw that, as soon as she opened her fire, our chance would be a very small one.

The French captain, and his officers and men, had got two guns over the quarter, having cut away some of the bulwarks, and were energetically working them, with desperation stamped on their countenances. Toby and I stood, as before, holding on to the companion-hatch, and this time—I must confess it—my teeth, as well as his, chattered with the cold, and damp, and agitation. No one took any notice of us. The Frenchmen were again aiming high, in the hope of knocking away some of the frigate’s spars. They were brave fellows: I could not help admiring them. Shot followed shot in rapid succession. I wondered that Captain Collyer’s patience was not exhausted.

“There! I know’d they’d do it,” exclaimed Toby, suddenly. “And catch it if they did!” he added.

As he spoke I saw a white splinter glance from the fore-topmast of the frigate, while a rent appeared in the sail. The Frenchmen shouted as if they had done a clever thing, but they had little to shout for; the next instant a shower of round-shot came whistling through our sails, some just above our heads; two struck the lugger’s side, and one killed three men dead on the decks. Though I knew how dangerous was our position I was too eager to see what was taking place to go below. Still the gallant French captain would not strike, but stood as energetically as before, encouraging his men to work the guns. I wished that he would give in though, for my own and Toby’s sake, nor did I think that he had a chance of escaping. There he stood full of life and energy, now hauling on a gun-tackle, now looking along a gun. The next moment there was a whistling and crash of shot, and I saw several mangled forms sent flying along the deck. One was that of the brave captain. I ran to assist him, but though there was a convulsive movement of the limbs, he was perfectly dead. At the same moment down came the lugger’s mainyard. I saw that it was completely up with her at all events. Some of the privateer’s men continued at the guns, but the greater number tumbled headlong down below, to avoid the frigate’s next broadside. My eye glancing up at that moment, I saw the French flag still flying. Believing that the only way to avoid the catastrophe was to haul it down, followed by Toby, I ran aft to do so. I was too late. The Frenchmen fired, and another crushing broadside struck the lugger, and made her reel with the shock. The companion-hatch was knocked to pieces. We should have been killed had we remained at our former post.

The next instant there was a fearful cry—the men who had gone below sprang up again with pale faces and cries of terror. The lugger rushed on, made one fearful plunge, and I saw that she was sinking. I had kept my eye on the wreck of the companion-hatch. Dragging Toby with me, I sprang to it and clutched it tightly, and as the sea washed along the deck, and the sinking vessel disappeared, we found ourselves clinging to it and floating on the summit of a curling wave. As soon as I had cleared my eyes from the water, I looked round for the frigate. She was in the act of heaving-to in order to lower her boats. The sea around us was sprinkled with struggling forms, but not half the lugger’s crew were to be seen. Numbers must have gone down in her. Shrieks and cries for help reached our ears, but we could assist no one. Some were clinging to spars and planks, and pieces of the shattered bulwarks; a few were swimming, but the greater number were floundering about; and now I saw a hand disappear—now two were thrown up to sink immediately beneath the waves—now a shriek of agony reached our ears. It was very terrible. The companion-hatch to which Toby and I clung had been so knocked about that it scarcely held together, and I expected every moment that it would go to pieces, and that we should be separated. I earnestly wished for the boats to come to us, and it appeared to me that the frigate was far longer than usual in heaving-to and lowering them. At last, as we rose to the top of a wave, I saw three boats pulling towards us. The men were giving way with all their might as British seamen always will when lives are to be saved, even those of enemies. Several Frenchmen had been picked up, when I saw a boat making towards us. Mr Johnson was steering, and Spellman was the midshipman in her. We were not recognised when we were hauled into the boat, and might not have been had I not said—

“What, Spellman, don’t you know me?”

“You, Merry,” he exclaimed, looking at me with an astonished gaze. “What business have you here? Why we left you drowning—up Channel somewhere—hours ago.”

“Thank you, but we have taken a cruise since then,” said I.

“And rather a perilous one, young gentleman,” exclaimed the boatswain, now recognising me. “You had the shot rattling pretty thick about you, and I’m heartily glad to see you safe, that I am.” And he nearly wrung my hand off as he shook it. “I never saw guns better aimed than ours were, except once, and that was when I was attacking a Spanish line-of-battle ship in a jolly boat. I’ll tell you all about it some day, but well just pick up some of these drowning Frenchmen first. Give way, my lads.”

The other two boats rescued several of the lugger’s crew; we got hold of six or seven more who were floating on spars or planks; one of them was the second officer of the privateer; but out of a hundred and forty men who were on her decks when she went down, not more than thirty were rescued. Toby and I met with a very pleasant reception when we got on board, and as soon as I had got on some dry clothes and had had a glass of grog to restore my circulation, Captain Collyer sent for me into the cabin to hear an account of our adventures. He seemed highly interested when I told him of the gallantry of the French captain, and expressed his regret at his death. A brave man always appreciates the bravery of his opponent. When I got back to the berth I had to tell the story all over again, and Toby, I have no doubt, was similarly employed among his messmates.

“It is very evident, Merry, that you are reserved for a more exalted fate,” was the only comment Spellman made, when I ceased.

“Thank you, Miss Susan,” I answered; “I owe you one.”

“It is a great pity that the lugger went down, though,” observed old Perigal; “I should have had a chance of taking a run home in her as prize-master, and seeing my wife. Besides, she might have given us a pinch of prize-money.”

The regret generally expressed was rather for the loss of the few pounds the lugger might have given them, than for that of the men who formed the crew.

“What! I did not know that you were married,” I observed to Perigal when he said he was married.

“But I am, though; and to a young and charming wife who deserves a better husband,” he answered in an abrupt way. “If it wasn’t for her I shouldn’t be now knocking about the ocean as I have been all my life; and yet, if it was not for her I should have very little to keep me on shore. It’s the prize-money, the booty, keeps me afloat. I am an arrant buccaneer at heart.”

“I should not have supposed you that,” said I. It was now evening, and old Perigal had his glass of grog before him. On these occasions he was always somewhat communicative.

“I’ve been married six years or more,” he continued in a half whisper. “My wife is the daughter of an old shipmate who was killed in action by my side. His last words were, ‘Take care of my orphan child—my Mary.’ I promised him I would as long as I had life and a shilling in my pocket. I expected to see a little girl with a big bow at her waist, and a doll in her arms—as he’d described her. He’d been five years from home or more, poor fellow. Instead of that, I found a handsome young woman, tall and graceful. What could I do? I was struck all of a heap, as the saying is; and I discovered at last, that though I was but a mate in the service, and an old fellow to boot compared to her, she liked me; so we married. I’d saved some little prize-money, and I thought myself rich; but it went wonderfully quick, and a rogue of a fellow who borrowed some wouldn’t even pay me; and if it hadn’t been for the sake of Mary I wouldn’t have said anything to him, but let the coin burn a hole in his pockets. I went to law, and the upshot was that I lost all I had remaining. Now came the tug of war. Was I to go to sea again and leave Mary? I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Anything would be better than that. I would enter into some business. A bright idea struck me. Three or four hundred pounds would enable me to carry it out. Mary and I agreed that I should have no difficulty in getting that, I had so many friends. I would pay them a good interest. I tried. You should have seen how they buttoned up their pockets and pursed up their lips; how many similar applications they had, how many decayed relations wanted their assistance! They didn’t say, however, that they had assisted them. I had no business to complain; I had made a mistake, and I felt ashamed of myself. At first, though my heart swelled, I was very angry; but I got over that feeling, and I resolved to trust to myself alone. It was not till then that I recovered my self-respect. I say, Merry; if you fancy that you have many friends, don’t you ever attempt to borrow money from them, or you’ll find that you are woefully mistaken. Mary and I talked the matter over, and she settled to keep a school, and I to come to sea again.

“It was a sore trial, youngster, and you may fancy that a rich galleon wouldn’t be an unacceptable prize, to save the poor girl from the drudgery she has to go through. It wasn’t the way her poor father expected me to treat her, but I have done my best; what can a man do more?”

The old mate was going to help himself to another glass, but he put the bottle away from him with resolution. I had observed that he often took more than anybody else in the mess; but after that, whenever I saw him doing so, I had only to mention his wife, and he instantly stopped. From this account he had given of himself I liked him much better than ever.

I one day asked Mr Bryan, who knew his wife, about her, and he told me that she was a very superior young lady, and that he could not overpraise her.

Of all my shipmates, Grey seemed most pleased at having me back again, and he assured me that had he been able to swim he would have jumped after me, and I believe that he would have done so. I promised on the first opportunity to teach him to swim. People are surprised that so many sailors cannot swim, but the truth is, that when once they get to sea, they often have fewer opportunities of learning than have people living on shore. In southern climates some captains, when it is calm, allow the men to go overboard; but in northern latitudes they cannot do this, and many captains do not trouble themselves about the matter. My advice therefore is, that all boys should team to swim before they come to sea, and to swim in their clothes.

Next to Grey, I believe Mr Johnson was most satisfied that I was not drowned.

“I had written an account of what had happened to your disconsolate parents, and had taken an opportunity of praising you as you deserved; but as you are alive, I’ll put it by, it will serve for another occasion,” he observed.

I thanked him, and begged him to give me the letter, which, after some persuasion, he did. I enclosed it to my sisters, assuring them that it was written under an erroneous impression that I was no longer a denizen of this world, and begged, them not to be at all alarmed, as I was well and merry as ever:

“Sir,—Your son and I, though he was only a midshipman,—I am boatswain of this ship—were, I may say, friends and companions; and therefore I take up my pen to tell you the sad news, that he and boy Bluff went overboard together this evening, and were lost, though we didn’t fail to look for them. It may be a consolation to you to know that they always did their duty, which wasn’t much, nor very well done, nor of any use to anybody, but that was no fault of theirs, seeing that they didn’t know better. Then you’ll not fail to remember that there’s no longer any chance of your son being hung, which has been the fate of many a pretty man, either by mistake or because he deserved it, and that must be a comfort to you. I’ve nothing more to say at present.“From your obedient servant,“Jonathan Johnson,“Boatswain of His British Majesty’s frigate Doris.”

“Sir,—Your son and I, though he was only a midshipman,—I am boatswain of this ship—were, I may say, friends and companions; and therefore I take up my pen to tell you the sad news, that he and boy Bluff went overboard together this evening, and were lost, though we didn’t fail to look for them. It may be a consolation to you to know that they always did their duty, which wasn’t much, nor very well done, nor of any use to anybody, but that was no fault of theirs, seeing that they didn’t know better. Then you’ll not fail to remember that there’s no longer any chance of your son being hung, which has been the fate of many a pretty man, either by mistake or because he deserved it, and that must be a comfort to you. I’ve nothing more to say at present.

“From your obedient servant,

“Jonathan Johnson,

“Boatswain of His British Majesty’s frigate Doris.”

I had hopes that the letter would afford infinite satisfaction to my home circle.

We ran back to Plymouth with our prisoners, and then receiving sealed orders, sailed for the westward. On the captain opening his orders we found that we were bound for the North American and West India Station.

One day, as Mr Johnson seemed in an especially good humour, I got Grey to come, and we begged hard that he would go on with his history.

“Ah yes, my true and veracious narrative,” he answered. “Ho! ho! ho!”

His ogre-like laugh sounded along the deck, and served as a gong to summon an audience around him, though only a favoured few ventured into his cabin.

“I was telling you about my maternal parent, the estimable Mrs Johnson. I was alluding to times before she assumed that appellation, or became my parent. I brought up my history to the period when she became first-lieutenant of the gallant Thunder bomb. She did not remain in that craft long, for the captain, officers, and crew, were turned over to a dashing, slashing, thirty-six gun frigate, the Firegobbler. It is extraordinary what a number of actions that frigate fought, and what other wonders she performed all owing to my mother, I believe you. At last, one day, not far off from the chops of the Channel, a large ship, under Spanish colours, was sighted. The Firegobbler gave chase, and a running fight ensued, during which a shot killed the captain, and of course my mother, who took command, followed up the enemy.

“Before the day was over, another Spanish line-of-battle ship hove in sight, and when the two closed each other, they hove-to, and waited for the Firegobbler, which wasn’t long in getting into action. Then, I believe you, she did give them a hammering, in such right good earnest, that, before the sun set, they criedpeccavi, and struck their flags. As I told you, the other day, she brought them both in triumph into Plymouth. Now, by all the rules of the service, she ought to have been promoted, you’ll allow; but, by some means or other, the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty found out that she was a woman,—perhaps some jealous fellow peached on her,—and, think of their ingratitude, not only wouldn’t they give her a commander’s rank, but they superseded her, and would by no manner of means allow her to remain in the ship. To my mind, those big-wigs up in London have no consciences. What encouragement is there for a spirited young woman to go and fight her country’s battles? None! that’s a fact! Miss Nailor had to go on shore. But she couldn’t bear a quiet life; so, slipping on seamen’s clothes again, she shipped aboard another frigate, but, of course, she had to go before the mast. That made little difference to her; she loved the sea for itself, and didn’t care where she was. For some time she got on very well; but she didn’t always remember that she was no longer a first-lieutenant—which was natural, poor thing! Well, one day, when off the coast of America, she quarrelled with the man who was first-lieutenant, and meeting him on shore, she put a pistol into his hand, and told him he must fight her. He was a spirited fellow, and said that he never refused that sort of invitation, and as it was in the chief street of a large city, they had plenty of seconds. Well, they fought, and she had the misfortune to shoot him through the heart. Most men would have died immediately, but he lived long enough to forgive her for what she’d done, and to say what a fine fellow he thought her. Of course, as it’s against the articles of war to shoot a first-lieutenant, she couldn’t go aboard the frigate again; and when a file of marines came to seize her, the people of the place carried her off, and wouldn’t give her up, and so the jollies had to return without her. Two parties were formed in the place. One said she ought to be given up, and the other, that she oughtn’t, and shouldn’t, and that they wouldn’t. It was one of the secret causes of the American revolution.

“Among those who sided with her was a Captain Johnson, a very fine man, master of a very fine ship, and as he happened to want a mate, he asked my mother if she would take the berth, not dreaming all the time that she was a woman. They had a good deal of talk about the matter, and as she had taken a fancy to him, she told him all her history. I have said that my father was a fine man. He was the tallest and smartest man I ever saw, and had the loudest voice, too, I believe you, or he wouldn’t have won the heart of my mother. She wasn’t a woman to knock under to an ordinary, everyday sort of man. He was so tall, that the barber had to stand on the table to shave him, and as he walked along the streets, he could hand sugar-plums to the children in the upper windows; and his voice was so loud, that he once made a stone-deaf woman jump off her chair, right up to the ceiling, with fright, when he raised it above the ordinary pitch to speak to her; and he was so strong, that he made nothing of lifting an ale cask to his lips, and drinking out of the bung-hole. He was the man to command a ship’s company! When he found any two of them quarrelling, he would lift one up in each hand, with outstretched arms, and he would then knock their two heads together, and go on bumping harder and harder till they promised to be friends.

“No two people could have been better matched than my parents, and they had a sincere respect for each other. They were above anything like a namby-pamby, soft sighing, do-sweetest, kiss-me style of love. My father made his offer from the deck of his ship, as she was standing out of harbour, and my mother answered him from the shore through a speaking-trumpet. The truth was, that when the owners heard that she was a woman, they didn’t approve of her going as mate; they thought that it would invalidate the insurance.

“The wind fell outside, so he dropped anchor and pulled on shore, and was married, and, of course, off she went to sea with him. A very useful wife, too, she made, for though she didn’t wear the breeches, she could take command of the ship better than any one else on board. Thus it was that I came to be born at sea. There was a terrific gale blowing, and the ship was running under bare poles during the time that important event in the world’s history occurred.

“‘The wind it whistled, the porpoise roll’d,The dolphins rear’d their backs of gold;And never was heard such an outcry wildAs welcomed to life the ocean-child.’

“‘The wind it whistled, the porpoise roll’d,The dolphins rear’d their backs of gold;And never was heard such an outcry wildAs welcomed to life the ocean-child.’

“I believe you, my hearties, that was a gale! I don’t believe the sea ever ran so high before, or has ever run so high since. We were fully half an hour going up the side of one sea, and nearly a quarter sliding down into the trough on the other—so I have been told: I cannot say that I remember the circumstance, though I do recollect things which happened a long time ago.

“I was a precocious child, let me tell you. I had as fine a set of teeth as ever cracked biscuit by the time I was six months old, and lived upon lobscouse and porter. I was weaned by that time, and I wasn’t two years old when I could go aloft like a monkey. It wouldn’t have done for me to have been like any every-day sort of baby.”

I was almost inclined to believe Mr Johnson’s assertions, for, as I looked at the huge red-nosed man before me, I could scarcely persuade myself that he had ever been a baby in long clothes.

“Speaking of monkeys,” continued Mr Johnson, winking his eye, “I once had a desperate fight with one, when I wasn’t much more than three years old. I was sitting on the main-truck, with my legs dangling down, as was my custom when I wanted a good allowance of fresh air. We had a monkey aboard—a mischievous chap,—and when he saw me, he swarmed up the mast, and, putting up his paw, snatched a biscuit out of my jacket-pocket. I gave him a slap on the head, and in return he bit my leg, and tried to pull me down. To be even with him, I jumped on his shoulders, and down we slipped together, till we reached the topmast cross-trees. There I got a rope, and, lashing him to the heel of the topgallant-mast, sang out to the hands in the top that they might see what I had done. You may be sure that they were very much astonished.

“I was a great favourite among the crew, and ran no slight chance of being spoilt. I could dance a hornpipe with any man on board; and as for singing a rollicking sea-song, there were few who could match me. I soon learned to hand reef, steer, and heave the lead, as well as any man on board. My mother was proud of me, and so was my father; and they had reason to be, and that’s the truth.

“At last it struck them that they ought to give me some education, to fit me to become an officer and a gentleman. I, however, was not fond of books, but I learned to read chiefly from the signboards over the shop fronts along the quays at the different ports to which we traded. Not that I required much instruction, for I picked up knowledge faster than most people could serve it out to me.

“I was one morning sent on shore to school, but the master thinking fit to cane me, I tucked him up under my arm, and walked off with him on board the ship, where I stowed him under hatches, and kept him there till he promised to treat me in future with more respect. After this little occurrence we were very good friends; but when the ship went to sea, he begged that I might on no account be left behind. That was but natural, for I hadn’t got into shore ways exactly.”

The cry, from the deck, of “All hands make sail!” interrupted Mr Johnson’s veracious narrative.

“A chase in sight,” he exclaimed; “and a prize she’ll prove, though we have to fight for her!”

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