Chapter Twenty Eight.

Chapter Twenty Eight.“Philosophy made easy” upon agrarian principles, the subject of some uneasiness to our hero—the first appearance, but not the last, of an important personage.The conversation was here interrupted by a mail from England which they had been expecting. Captain Wilson retired with his letters; the Governor remained equally occupied; and our hero received the first letter ever written to him by his father. It ran as follows:—“My Dear Son:—“I have many times taken up my pen with the intention of letting you know how things went on in this country. But as I can perceive around but one dark horizon of evil, I have as often laid it down again without venturing to make you unhappy with such bad intelligence.“The account of your death, and also of your unexpectedly being yet spared to us, were duly received, and I trust, I mourned and rejoiced on each occasion with all the moderation characteristic of a philosopher. In the first instance I consoled myself with the reflection that the world you had left was in a state of slavery and pressed down by the iron arm of despotism, and that to die was gain, not only in all the parson tells us, but also in our liberty; and, at the second intelligence, I moderated my joy for nearly about the same reasons, resolving, notwithstanding what Dr Middleton may say, to die as I have lived, a true philosopher.“The more I reflect the more am I convinced that there is nothing required to make this world happy but equality, and the rights of man being duly observed—in short, that everything and everybody should be reduced to one level. Do we not observe that it is the law of nature—do not brooks run into rivers—rivers into seas—mountains crumble down upon the plains?—are not the seasons contented to equalise the parts of the earth? Why does the sun run round the ecliptic, instead of the equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both sides of the world? Are we not all equally born in misery? does not death level us allaequo pede, as the poet hath? are we not all equally hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, and thus levelled by our natural wants? And such being the case, ought we not to have our equal share of good things in this world, to which we have an undoubted equal right? Can any argument be more solid or more level than this, whatever nonsense Dr Middleton may talk?“Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to see the sun of Justice arise, and disperse the manifold dark clouds which obscure the land—if I did not still hope, in my time, to see an equal distribution of property—an Agrarian law passed by the House of Commons, in which all should benefit alike—I would not care how soon I left this vale of tears, created by tyranny and injustice. At present, the same system is carried on; the nation is taxed for the benefit of the few, and it groans under oppression and despotism; but I still do think that there is, if I may fortunately express myself, a bright star in the west; and signs of the times which comfort me. Already we have had a good deal of incendiarism about the country, and some of the highest aristocracy have pledged themselves to raise the people above themselves, and have advised sedition and conspiracy; have shown to the debased and unenlightened multitude that their force is physically irresistible, and recommended them to make use of it, promising that if they hold in power, they will only use that power to the abolition of our farce of a constitution, of a church, and of a king; and that if the nation is to be governed at all, it shall only be governed by the many. This is cheering. Hail, patriot lords! all hail! I am in hopes yet the great work will be achieved, in spite of the laughs and sneers and shakes of the head which my arguments still meet with from that obstinate fellow Dr Middleton.“Your mother is in a quiet way; she has given over reading and working, and even her knitting, as useless; and she now sits all day long at the chimney corner twiddling her thumbs, and waiting, as she says, for the millennium. Poor thing! she is very foolish with her ideas upon this matter, but as usual I let her have her own way in every thing, copying the philosopher of old, who was tied to his Xantippe.“I trust, my dear son, that your principles have strengthened with your years and fortified with your growth, and that, if necessary, you will sacrifice all to obtain what in my opinion will prove to be the real millennium. Make all the converts you can, and believe me to be, your affectionate father and true guide:—“Nicodemus Easy.”Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, and then laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, and was surprised at himself when he found that he had so done. “I should like to argue the point,” thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the letter on the table, and went into Gascoigne’s room, displeased with his father and with himself. He asked Ned whether he had received any letters from England, and it being dinner-time, went back to dress. On his coming down into the receiving-room with Gascoigne, the Governor said to them:“As you two both speak Italian, you must take charge of a Sicilian officer who has come here with letters of introduction to me, and who dines here to-day.”Before dinner they were introduced to the party in question, a slight-made, well-looking young man, but still there was an expression in his countenance which was not agreeable. In compliance with the wishes of the Governor, Don Mathias, for so he was called, was placed between our two midshipmen, who immediately entered into conversation with him, being themselves anxious to make inquiries about their friends at Palermo. In the course of conversation Jack inquired of him whether he was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the Sicilian answered in the affirmative, and they talked about the different members of the family. Don Mathias, towards the close of the dinner, inquired of Jack by what means he had become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, in reply, narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had saved him from being murdered by two villains; after this reply the young officer appeared to be less inclined for conversation, but before the party broke up requested to have the acquaintance of our two midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, Gascoigne observed in a reflective way, “I have seen that face before, but where I cannot exactly say; but you know, Jack, what a memory of people I have, and I have seen him before, I am sure.”“I can’t recollect that ever I have,” replied our hero, “but I never knew any one who could recollect in that way as you do.”The conversation was then dropped between them, and Jack was for some time listening to the Governor and Captain Wilson, for the whole party were gone away, when Gascoigne, who had been in deep thought since he had made the observation to Jack, sprang up.“I have him at last!” cried he.“Have who?” demanded Captain Wilson.“That Sicilian officer—I could have sworn that I had seen him before.”“That Don Mathias?”“No, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is the very Don Silvio who was murdering Don Rebiera, when we came to his assistance and saved him.”“I do believe you are right, Gascoigne.”“I’m positive of it,” replied Gascoigne; “I never made a mistake in my life.”“Bring me those letters, Easy,” said the Governor, “and let us see what they say of him. Here it is—Don Mathias de Alayeres. You may be mistaken, Gascoigne; it’s a heavy charge you are making against this young man.”“Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I’d forfeit my commission if I had it here in my hand. Besides, I observed the change in his countenance when we told him it was Easy and I who had come to Don Rebiera’s assistance; and did you observe after that, Easy, that he hardly said a word?”“Very true,” replied Jack.“Well, well, we must see to this,” observed the Governor; “if so, this letter of introduction must be a forgery.”The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, while Easy was in Gascoigne’s room talking over their suspicions, letters from Palermo were brought up to him. They were in answer to those written by Jack on his arrival at Malta: a few lines from Don Rebiera, a small note from Agnes, and a voluminous detail from his friend Don Philip, who informed him of the good health of all parties and of their good-will towards him; of Agnes being as partial as ever; of his having spoken plainly, as he had promised Jack, to his father and mother relative to the mutual attachment; of their consent being given, and then withheld, because Father Thomas, their confessor, would not listen to the union of Agnes with a heretic; but, nevertheless, telling Jack this would be got over through the medium of his brother and himself, who were determined that their sister and he should not be made unhappy about such a trifle. But the latter part of the letter contained intelligence equally important, which was, that Don Silvio had again attempted the life of their father, and would have succeeded, had not Father Thomas, who happened to be there, thrown himself between them. That Don Silvio in his rage had actually stabbed the confessor, although the wound was not dangerous. That, in consequence of this, all further lenity was denied to him, and that the authorities were in search of him to award him the punishment due to murder and sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find him, and it was supposed that he had made his escape to Malta in one of the speronares.Such were the contents of the letter, which were immediately communicated to the Governor and Captain Wilson, upon their meeting at breakfast.“Very well, we must see to this,” observed the Governor, who then made his inquiries as to the other intelligence contained in the letters.Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was over, when they made their escape: a few moments afterwards Captain Wilson rose to go on board, and sent for them, but they were not to be found.“I understand it all, Wilson,” said the Governor; “leave them to me; go on board and make yourself quite easy.”In the meantime our two midshipmen had taken their hats and walked away to the parapet of the battery, where they would not be interrupted.“Now, Gascoigne,” observed Jack, “you guess what I’m about—I must shoot that rascal this very morning, and that’s why I came out with you.”“But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must shoot him, and not you; he is my property, for I found him out.”“We’ll argue that point,” replied Jack: “he has attempted the life of my is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, and therefore I have the best claim to him.”“I beg your pardon, Jack, he is mine, for I discovered him. Now let me put a case: suppose one man walking several yards before another, picks up a purse, what claim has the other to it? I found him, and not you.”“That’s all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse you picked up to be mine, then I have a right to it, although you found it; he is my bird by right, and not yours.”“But I have another observation to make, which is very important: he is a blood relation of Agnes, and if his blood is on your hands, however much he may deserve it, depend upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle to your union; think of that.”Jack paused in thought.“And let me induce you by another remark—you will confer on me a most particular favour.”“It will be the greatest I ever could,” replied Jack, “and you ought to be eternally indebted to me.”“I trust to make himeternallyindebted to me,” replied Gascoigne.Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon what their share of their prize-money may be, before a shot is fired—our two midshipmen appear in this instance to be doing the same.The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack went to the inn where Don Silvio had mentioned that he had taken up his quarters, and sending up his card, followed the waiter upstairs. The waiter opened the door, and presented the card.“Very well,” replied Don Silvio, “you can go down and show him up.”Jack, hearing these words, did not wait, but walked in, where he found Don Silvio very busy removing a hone upon which he had been whetting a sharp double-edged stiletto. The Sicilian walked up to him, offering his hand with apparent cordiality; but Jack with a look of defiance said, “Don Silvio, we know you; my object now is to demand, on the part of my friend, the satisfaction which you do not deserve, but which our indignation at your second attempt upon Don Rebiera induces us to offer; for if you escape from him you will have to do with me. On the whole, Don Silvio, you may think yourself fortunate, for it is better to die by the hands of a gentleman than by the gibbet.”Don Silvio turned deadly pale—his hand sought his stiletto in his bosom, but it was remaining on the table; at last he replied, “Be it so—I will meet you when and where you please, in an hour from this.”Jack mentioned the place of meeting, and then walked out of the room. He and Gascoigne then hastened to the quarters of an officer they were intimate with, and having provided themselves with the necessary fire-arms, were at the spot before the time. They waited for him till the exact time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance.“He’s off,” observed Gascoigne; “the villain has escaped us.”Half an hour over the time had passed, and still there was no sign of Gascoigne’s antagonist, but one of the Governor’s aides-de-camp was seen walking up to them.“Here’s Atkins,” observed Jack; “that’s unlucky, but he won’t interfere.”“Gentlemen,” said Atkins, taking off his hat with much solemnity, “the Governor particularly wishes to speak to you both.”“We can’t come just now—we’ll be there in half an hour.”“You must be there in three minutes, both of you. Excuse me, my orders are positive—and to see them duly executed I have a corporal and a file of men behind that wall—of course, if you walk with me quietly there will be no occasion to send for their assistance.”“This is confounded tyranny,” cried Jack. “Well may they call him King Tom.”“Yes,” replied Atkins, “and he governs herein rey absoluto—so come along.”Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to the government-house, where they found Sir Thomas in the veranda, which commanded a view of the harbour and offing.“Come here, young gentlemen,” said the Governor, in a severe tone; “do you see that vessel about two miles clear of the port? Don Silvio is in it, going back to Sicily under a guard. And now remember what I say as a maxim through life. Fight with gentlemen, if you must fight, but not with villains and murderers. Byconsentingto fight with ablackguard, you as much disparage your cloth and compromise your own characters, as by refusing to give satisfaction to agentleman. There, go away, for I’m angry with you, and don’t let me see you till dinner-time.”

The conversation was here interrupted by a mail from England which they had been expecting. Captain Wilson retired with his letters; the Governor remained equally occupied; and our hero received the first letter ever written to him by his father. It ran as follows:—

“My Dear Son:—

“I have many times taken up my pen with the intention of letting you know how things went on in this country. But as I can perceive around but one dark horizon of evil, I have as often laid it down again without venturing to make you unhappy with such bad intelligence.

“The account of your death, and also of your unexpectedly being yet spared to us, were duly received, and I trust, I mourned and rejoiced on each occasion with all the moderation characteristic of a philosopher. In the first instance I consoled myself with the reflection that the world you had left was in a state of slavery and pressed down by the iron arm of despotism, and that to die was gain, not only in all the parson tells us, but also in our liberty; and, at the second intelligence, I moderated my joy for nearly about the same reasons, resolving, notwithstanding what Dr Middleton may say, to die as I have lived, a true philosopher.

“The more I reflect the more am I convinced that there is nothing required to make this world happy but equality, and the rights of man being duly observed—in short, that everything and everybody should be reduced to one level. Do we not observe that it is the law of nature—do not brooks run into rivers—rivers into seas—mountains crumble down upon the plains?—are not the seasons contented to equalise the parts of the earth? Why does the sun run round the ecliptic, instead of the equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both sides of the world? Are we not all equally born in misery? does not death level us allaequo pede, as the poet hath? are we not all equally hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, and thus levelled by our natural wants? And such being the case, ought we not to have our equal share of good things in this world, to which we have an undoubted equal right? Can any argument be more solid or more level than this, whatever nonsense Dr Middleton may talk?

“Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to see the sun of Justice arise, and disperse the manifold dark clouds which obscure the land—if I did not still hope, in my time, to see an equal distribution of property—an Agrarian law passed by the House of Commons, in which all should benefit alike—I would not care how soon I left this vale of tears, created by tyranny and injustice. At present, the same system is carried on; the nation is taxed for the benefit of the few, and it groans under oppression and despotism; but I still do think that there is, if I may fortunately express myself, a bright star in the west; and signs of the times which comfort me. Already we have had a good deal of incendiarism about the country, and some of the highest aristocracy have pledged themselves to raise the people above themselves, and have advised sedition and conspiracy; have shown to the debased and unenlightened multitude that their force is physically irresistible, and recommended them to make use of it, promising that if they hold in power, they will only use that power to the abolition of our farce of a constitution, of a church, and of a king; and that if the nation is to be governed at all, it shall only be governed by the many. This is cheering. Hail, patriot lords! all hail! I am in hopes yet the great work will be achieved, in spite of the laughs and sneers and shakes of the head which my arguments still meet with from that obstinate fellow Dr Middleton.

“Your mother is in a quiet way; she has given over reading and working, and even her knitting, as useless; and she now sits all day long at the chimney corner twiddling her thumbs, and waiting, as she says, for the millennium. Poor thing! she is very foolish with her ideas upon this matter, but as usual I let her have her own way in every thing, copying the philosopher of old, who was tied to his Xantippe.

“I trust, my dear son, that your principles have strengthened with your years and fortified with your growth, and that, if necessary, you will sacrifice all to obtain what in my opinion will prove to be the real millennium. Make all the converts you can, and believe me to be, your affectionate father and true guide:—

“Nicodemus Easy.”

Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, and then laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, and was surprised at himself when he found that he had so done. “I should like to argue the point,” thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the letter on the table, and went into Gascoigne’s room, displeased with his father and with himself. He asked Ned whether he had received any letters from England, and it being dinner-time, went back to dress. On his coming down into the receiving-room with Gascoigne, the Governor said to them:

“As you two both speak Italian, you must take charge of a Sicilian officer who has come here with letters of introduction to me, and who dines here to-day.”

Before dinner they were introduced to the party in question, a slight-made, well-looking young man, but still there was an expression in his countenance which was not agreeable. In compliance with the wishes of the Governor, Don Mathias, for so he was called, was placed between our two midshipmen, who immediately entered into conversation with him, being themselves anxious to make inquiries about their friends at Palermo. In the course of conversation Jack inquired of him whether he was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the Sicilian answered in the affirmative, and they talked about the different members of the family. Don Mathias, towards the close of the dinner, inquired of Jack by what means he had become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, in reply, narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had saved him from being murdered by two villains; after this reply the young officer appeared to be less inclined for conversation, but before the party broke up requested to have the acquaintance of our two midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, Gascoigne observed in a reflective way, “I have seen that face before, but where I cannot exactly say; but you know, Jack, what a memory of people I have, and I have seen him before, I am sure.”

“I can’t recollect that ever I have,” replied our hero, “but I never knew any one who could recollect in that way as you do.”

The conversation was then dropped between them, and Jack was for some time listening to the Governor and Captain Wilson, for the whole party were gone away, when Gascoigne, who had been in deep thought since he had made the observation to Jack, sprang up.

“I have him at last!” cried he.

“Have who?” demanded Captain Wilson.

“That Sicilian officer—I could have sworn that I had seen him before.”

“That Don Mathias?”

“No, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is the very Don Silvio who was murdering Don Rebiera, when we came to his assistance and saved him.”

“I do believe you are right, Gascoigne.”

“I’m positive of it,” replied Gascoigne; “I never made a mistake in my life.”

“Bring me those letters, Easy,” said the Governor, “and let us see what they say of him. Here it is—Don Mathias de Alayeres. You may be mistaken, Gascoigne; it’s a heavy charge you are making against this young man.”

“Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I’d forfeit my commission if I had it here in my hand. Besides, I observed the change in his countenance when we told him it was Easy and I who had come to Don Rebiera’s assistance; and did you observe after that, Easy, that he hardly said a word?”

“Very true,” replied Jack.

“Well, well, we must see to this,” observed the Governor; “if so, this letter of introduction must be a forgery.”

The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, while Easy was in Gascoigne’s room talking over their suspicions, letters from Palermo were brought up to him. They were in answer to those written by Jack on his arrival at Malta: a few lines from Don Rebiera, a small note from Agnes, and a voluminous detail from his friend Don Philip, who informed him of the good health of all parties and of their good-will towards him; of Agnes being as partial as ever; of his having spoken plainly, as he had promised Jack, to his father and mother relative to the mutual attachment; of their consent being given, and then withheld, because Father Thomas, their confessor, would not listen to the union of Agnes with a heretic; but, nevertheless, telling Jack this would be got over through the medium of his brother and himself, who were determined that their sister and he should not be made unhappy about such a trifle. But the latter part of the letter contained intelligence equally important, which was, that Don Silvio had again attempted the life of their father, and would have succeeded, had not Father Thomas, who happened to be there, thrown himself between them. That Don Silvio in his rage had actually stabbed the confessor, although the wound was not dangerous. That, in consequence of this, all further lenity was denied to him, and that the authorities were in search of him to award him the punishment due to murder and sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find him, and it was supposed that he had made his escape to Malta in one of the speronares.

Such were the contents of the letter, which were immediately communicated to the Governor and Captain Wilson, upon their meeting at breakfast.

“Very well, we must see to this,” observed the Governor, who then made his inquiries as to the other intelligence contained in the letters.

Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was over, when they made their escape: a few moments afterwards Captain Wilson rose to go on board, and sent for them, but they were not to be found.

“I understand it all, Wilson,” said the Governor; “leave them to me; go on board and make yourself quite easy.”

In the meantime our two midshipmen had taken their hats and walked away to the parapet of the battery, where they would not be interrupted.

“Now, Gascoigne,” observed Jack, “you guess what I’m about—I must shoot that rascal this very morning, and that’s why I came out with you.”

“But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must shoot him, and not you; he is my property, for I found him out.”

“We’ll argue that point,” replied Jack: “he has attempted the life of my is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, and therefore I have the best claim to him.”

“I beg your pardon, Jack, he is mine, for I discovered him. Now let me put a case: suppose one man walking several yards before another, picks up a purse, what claim has the other to it? I found him, and not you.”

“That’s all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse you picked up to be mine, then I have a right to it, although you found it; he is my bird by right, and not yours.”

“But I have another observation to make, which is very important: he is a blood relation of Agnes, and if his blood is on your hands, however much he may deserve it, depend upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle to your union; think of that.”

Jack paused in thought.

“And let me induce you by another remark—you will confer on me a most particular favour.”

“It will be the greatest I ever could,” replied Jack, “and you ought to be eternally indebted to me.”

“I trust to make himeternallyindebted to me,” replied Gascoigne.

Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon what their share of their prize-money may be, before a shot is fired—our two midshipmen appear in this instance to be doing the same.

The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack went to the inn where Don Silvio had mentioned that he had taken up his quarters, and sending up his card, followed the waiter upstairs. The waiter opened the door, and presented the card.

“Very well,” replied Don Silvio, “you can go down and show him up.”

Jack, hearing these words, did not wait, but walked in, where he found Don Silvio very busy removing a hone upon which he had been whetting a sharp double-edged stiletto. The Sicilian walked up to him, offering his hand with apparent cordiality; but Jack with a look of defiance said, “Don Silvio, we know you; my object now is to demand, on the part of my friend, the satisfaction which you do not deserve, but which our indignation at your second attempt upon Don Rebiera induces us to offer; for if you escape from him you will have to do with me. On the whole, Don Silvio, you may think yourself fortunate, for it is better to die by the hands of a gentleman than by the gibbet.”

Don Silvio turned deadly pale—his hand sought his stiletto in his bosom, but it was remaining on the table; at last he replied, “Be it so—I will meet you when and where you please, in an hour from this.”

Jack mentioned the place of meeting, and then walked out of the room. He and Gascoigne then hastened to the quarters of an officer they were intimate with, and having provided themselves with the necessary fire-arms, were at the spot before the time. They waited for him till the exact time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance.

“He’s off,” observed Gascoigne; “the villain has escaped us.”

Half an hour over the time had passed, and still there was no sign of Gascoigne’s antagonist, but one of the Governor’s aides-de-camp was seen walking up to them.

“Here’s Atkins,” observed Jack; “that’s unlucky, but he won’t interfere.”

“Gentlemen,” said Atkins, taking off his hat with much solemnity, “the Governor particularly wishes to speak to you both.”

“We can’t come just now—we’ll be there in half an hour.”

“You must be there in three minutes, both of you. Excuse me, my orders are positive—and to see them duly executed I have a corporal and a file of men behind that wall—of course, if you walk with me quietly there will be no occasion to send for their assistance.”

“This is confounded tyranny,” cried Jack. “Well may they call him King Tom.”

“Yes,” replied Atkins, “and he governs herein rey absoluto—so come along.”

Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to the government-house, where they found Sir Thomas in the veranda, which commanded a view of the harbour and offing.

“Come here, young gentlemen,” said the Governor, in a severe tone; “do you see that vessel about two miles clear of the port? Don Silvio is in it, going back to Sicily under a guard. And now remember what I say as a maxim through life. Fight with gentlemen, if you must fight, but not with villains and murderers. Byconsentingto fight with ablackguard, you as much disparage your cloth and compromise your own characters, as by refusing to give satisfaction to agentleman. There, go away, for I’m angry with you, and don’t let me see you till dinner-time.”

Chapter Twenty Nine.In which our hero sees a little more service, and is better employed than in fighting Don Silvio.But before they met the Governor at his table, a sloop-of-war arrived from the fleet with despatches from the Commander-in-Chief. Those to Captain Wilson required him to make all possible haste in fitting, and then to proceed and cruise off Corsica, to fall in with a Russian frigate which was on that coast; if not there, to obtain intelligence, and to follow her wherever she might be.All was now bustle and activity on board of theAurora. Captain Wilson, with our hero and Gascoigne, quitted the Governor’s house and repaired on board, where they remained day and night. On the third day theAurorawas complete and ready for sea, and about noon sailed out of Valette harbour.In a week theAurorahad gained the coast of Corsica, and there was no need of sending look-out men to the mast-head, for one of the officers or midshipmen was there from daylight to dark. She ran up the coast to the northward without seeing the object of her pursuit, or obtaining any intelligence.Calms and light airs detained them for a few days, when a northerly breeze enabled them to run down the eastern side of the island. It was on the eighteenth day after they had quitted Malta that a large vessel was seen ahead about eighteen miles off. The men were then at breakfast.“A frigate, Captain Wilson, I’m sure of it,” said Mr Hawkins the chaplain, whose anxiety induced him to go to the mast-head.“How is she steering?”“The same way as we are.”TheAurorawas under all possible sail, and when the hands were piped to dinner, it was thought that they had neared the chase about two miles.“This will be a long chase; a stern chase always is,” observed Martin to Gascoigne.“Yes, I’m afraid so—but I’m more afraid of her escaping.”“That’s not unlikely either,” replied the mate.“You are one of Job’s Comforters, Martin,” replied Gascoigne.“Then I’m not so often disappointed,” replied the mate. “There are two points to be ascertained; the first is, whether we shall come up with the vessel or lose her—the next is, if we do come up with her, whether she is the vessel we are looking for.”“You seem very indifferent about it.”“Indeed I am not: I am the oldest passed midshipman in the ship, and the taking of the frigate will, if I live, give me my promotion, and if I’m killed, I shan’t want it. But I’ve been so often disappointed, that I now make sure of nothing until I have it.”“Well, for your sake, Martin, I will still hope that the vessel is the one we seek, that we shall not be killed, and that you will gain your promotion.”“I thank you, Easy—I wish I was one that dared hope as you do.”Poor Martin! he had long felt how bitter it was to meet disappointment upon disappointment. How true it is that hope deferred maketh the heart sick! and his anticipations of early days, the buoyant calculations of youth, had been one by one crushed, and now, having served his time nearly three times over, the reaction had become too painful, and, as he truly said, he dared not hope: still his temper was not soured but chastened.“She has hauled her wind, sir,” hailed the second-lieutenant from the topmast cross-trees.“What think you of that, Martin?” observed Jack.“Either that she is an English frigate, or that she is a vessel commanded by a very brave fellow, and well manned.”It was sunset before theAurorahad arrived within two miles of the vessel; the private signal had been thrown out, but had not been answered, either because it was too dark to make out the colours of the flags, or that these were unknown to an enemy. The stranger had hoisted the English colours, but that was no satisfactory proof of her being a friend; and just before dark she had put her head towards theAurora, who had now come stem down to her. The ship’s company of theAurorawere all at their quarters, as a few minutes would now decide whether they had to deal with a friend or a foe.There is no situation perhaps more difficult, and demanding so much caution, as the occasional meeting with a doubtful ship. On the one hand, it being necessary to be fully prepared and not allow the enemy the advantage which may be derived from your inaction; and on the other, the necessity of prudence, that you may not assault your friends and countrymen. Captain Wilson had hoisted the private night-signal, but here again it was difficult, from his sails intervening, for the other ship to make it out. Before the two frigates were within three cables length of each other, Captain Wilson, determined that there should be no mistake from any want of precaution on his part, hauled up his courses and brailed up his driver that the night-signal might be clearly seen.Lights were seen abaft on the quarter-deck of the other vessel, as if they were about to answer, but she continued to keep theAurorato leeward at about half a cable’s length, and as the foremost guns of each vessel were abreast of each other, hailed in English—“Ship ahoy; what ship’s that?”“His Majesty’s shipAurora,” replied Captain Wilson, who stood on the hammocks. “What ship’s that?”By this time the other frigate had passed half her length clear of the beam of theAurora, and at the same time that a pretended reply of “His Majesty’s ship—” was heard, a broadside from her guns, which had been trained aft on purpose, was poured into theAuroraand, at so short a distance, doing considerable execution. The crew of theAurora, hearing the hailing in English, and the vessel passing them apparently without firing, had imagined that she had been one of their own cruisers. The captains of the guns had dropped their lanyards in disappointment, and the silence which had been maintained as the two vessels met was just breaking up in various ways of lamentation at their bad luck, when the broadside was poured in, thundering in their ears, and the ripping and tearing of the beams and planks astonished their senses. Many were carried down below, but it was difficult to say whether indignation at the enemy’s ruse, or satisfaction at discovering that they were not called to quarters in vain, most predominated. At all events it was answered by three voluntary cheers, which drowned the cries of those who were being assisted to the cockpit.“Man the larboard-guns and about ship!” cried Captain Wilson, leaping off the hammocks. “Look out, my lads, and rake her in stays! We’ll pay him off for that foul play before we’ve done with him. Look out, my lads, and take good aim as she pays round.”TheAurorawas put about, and her broadside poured into the stern of the Russian frigate—for such she was. It was almost dark, but the enemy, who appeared as anxious as theAurorato come to action, hauled up her courses to await her coming up. In five minutes the two vessels were alongside exchanging murderous broadsides at little more than pistol-shot—running slowly in for the land, than not more than five miles distant. The skin-clad mountaineers of Corsica were aroused by the furious cannonading, watching the incessant flashes of the guns, and listening to their reverberating roar.After half an hour’s fierce combat, during which the fire of both vessels was kept up with undiminished vigour, Captain Wilson went down on the main deck, and himself separately pointed each gun after it was loaded; those amidships being direct for the main-channels of the enemy’s ship, while those abaft the beam were gradually trained more and more forward, and those before the beam more and more aft, so as to throw all their shot nearly into one focus, giving directions that they were all to be fired at once, at the word of command. The enemy, not aware of the cause of the delay, imagined that the fire of theAurorahad slackened, and loudly cheered. At the word given the broadside was poured in, and, dark as it was, the effects from it were evident. Two of the midship ports of the antagonist were blown into one, and her main-mast was seen to totter, and then to fall over the side. TheAurorathen set her courses, which had been hauled up, and, shooting ahead, took up a raking position while the Russian was still hampered with her wreck, and poured in grape and cannister from her upper deck carronades to impede their labours on deck, while she continued her destructive fire upon the hull of the enemy from the main-deck battery.The moon now burst out from a low bank of clouds, and enabled them to accomplish their work with more precision. In a quarter of an hour the Russian was totally dismasted, and Captain Wilson ordered half of his remaining ship’s company to repair the damages, which had been most severe, whilst the larboard men at quarters continued the fire from the main deck. The enemy continued to return the fire from four guns, two on each of her decks, which she could still make bear upon theAurora; but after some time even these ceased, either from the men having deserted them, or from their being dismounted. Observing that the fire from her antagonist had ceased, theAuroraalso discontinued, and the jolly-boat astern being still uninjured, the second lieutenant was deputed to pull alongside of the frigate to ascertain if she had struck.The beams of the bright moon silvered the rippling water as the boat shoved off; and Captain Wilson and his officers who were still unhurt, leant over the shattered sides of theAurora, waiting for a reply: suddenly the silence of the night was broken upon by a loud splash from the bows of the Russian frigate, then about three cables’ length distant.“What could that be?” cried Captain Wilson. “Her anchor’s down. Mr Jones, a lead over the side, and see what water we have.”Mr Jones had long been carried down below, severed in two with a round shot—but a man leaped into the chains, and lowering down the lead, sounded in seven fathoms.“Then I suspect he will give us more trouble yet,” observed Captain Wilson; and so indeed it proved, for the Russian captain, in reply to the second lieutenant, had told him in English, “that he would answer that question with his broadside,” and before the boat was dropped astern, he had warped round with the springs on his cable, and had recommenced his fire upon theAurora.Captain Wilson made sail upon his ship, and sailed round and round the anchored vessel, so as to give her two broadsides to her one, and from the slowness with which she worked at her springs upon her cables, it was evident that she must be now very weak-handed. Still the pertinacity and decided courage of the Russian captain convinced Captain Wilson that, in all probability, he would sink at his anchor before he would haul down his colours; and not only would he lose more of theAurora’smen, but also the Russian vessel, without he took a more decided step. Captain Wilson, therefore, resolved to try her by the board. Having poured in a raking fire, he stood off for a few moments, during which he called the officers and men on deck, and stated his intention. He then went about, and himself conning theAurora, ran her on board the Russian, pouring in his reserved broadside as the vessels came into collision, and heading his men as they leaped on the enemy’s decks.Although, as Captain Wilson had imagined, the Russian frigate had not many men to oppose to theAurora’s, the deck was obstinately defended, the voice and the arm of the Russian captain were to be heard and seen everywhere, and his men, encouraged by him, were cut down by numbers where they stood.Our hero, who had the good fortune to be still unhurt, was for a little while close to Captain Wilson when he boarded, and was about to oppose his unequal force against that of the Russian captain, when he was pulled back by the collar by Mr Hawkins, the chaplain, who rushed in advance with a sabre in his hand. The opponents were well matched, and it may be said that, with little interruption, a hand-to-hand conflict ensued, for the moon lighted up the scene of carnage, and they were well able to distinguish each other’s faces. At last, the chaplain’s sword broke; he rushed in, drove the hilt into his antagonist’s face, closed with him, and they both fell down the hatchway together. After this, the deck was gained, or rather cleared, by the crew of theAurora, for few could be said to have resisted, and in a minute or two the frigate was in their possession. The chaplain and the Russian captain were hoisted up, still clinging to each other, both senseless from the fall, but neither of them dead; although bleeding from several wounds.As soon as the main-deck had been cleared, Captain Wilson ordered the hatches to be put on, and left a party on board while he hastened to attend to the condition of his own ship and ship’s company.It was daylight before anything like order had been restored to the decks of theAurora; the water was still smooth, and instead of letting go her own anchor, she had hung on with a hawser to the prize, but her sails had been furled, her decks cleared, guns secured, and the buckets were dashing away the blood from her planks and the carriages of the guns, when the sun rose and shone upon them. The numerous wounded had, by this time, been put into their hammocks, although there were still one or two cases of amputation to be performed.The carpenter had repaired all shot-holes under or too near to the water-line, and then had proceeded to sound the well of the prize; but although her upper works had been dreadfully shattered, there was no reason to suppose that she had received any serious injury below, and therefore the hatches still remained on, although a few hands were put to the pumps to try if she made any water. It was not until theAurorapresented a more cheerful appearance that Captain Wilson went over to the other ship, whose deck, now that the light of heaven enabled them to witness all the horrors even to minuteness, presented a shocking spectacle of blood and carnage. Body after body was thrown over; the wounded were supplied with water and such assistance as could be rendered until the surgeons could attend them; the hatches were then taken off, and the remainder of her crew ordered on deck; about two hundred obeyed the summons, but the lower deck was as crowded with killed and wounded as was the upper. For the present the prisoners were handed over down into the forehold of theAurora, which had been prepared for their reception, and the work of separation of the dead from the living then underwent. After this such repairs as were immediately necessary were made, and a portion of theAurora’screw, under the orders of the second lieutenant, were sent on board to take charge of her. It was not till the evening of the day after this night-conflict that theAurorawas in a situation to make sail. All hands were then sent on board of theTrident, for such was the name of the Russian frigate, to fit her out as soon as possible. Before morning—for there was no relaxation from their fatigue, nor was there any wish for it—all was completed, and the two frigates, although in a shattered condition, were prepared to meet any common conflict with the elements. TheAuroramade sail with theTridentin tow; the hammocks were allowed to be taken down, and the watch below permitted to repose.In this murderous conflict theTridenthad more than two hundred men killed and wounded. TheAurora’sloss had not been so great, but still it was severe, having lost sixty-five men and officers. Among the fallen there were Mr Jones the master, the third lieutenant Mr Awkwright, and two midshipmen killed. Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant, severely wounded at the commencement of the action. Martin, the master’s mate, and Gascoigne, the first mortally, and the second badly, wounded. Our hero had also received a slight cutlass wound, which obliged him to wear his arm, for a short time, in a sling.Among the ship’s company who were wounded was Mesty: he had been hurt with a splinter before theTridentwas taken by the board, but had remained on deck, and had followed our hero, watching over him and protecting him as a father. He had done even more, for he had with Jack thrown himself before Captain Wilson, at a time that he had received such a blow with the flat of a sword as to stun him and bring him down on his knee. And Jack had taken good care that Captain Wilson should not be ignorant, as he really would have been, of this timely service on the part of Mesty, who certainly, although with a great deal ofsang-froidin his composition when in repose, was a fiend incarnate when his blood was up.“But you must have been with Mesty,” observed Captain Wilson, “when he did me the service.”“I was with him, sir,” replied Jack, with great modesty, “but was of very little service.”“How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?”“Oh, not very bad, sir—he wants a glass of grog.”“And Mr Martin?”Jack shook his head.“Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well.”“Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was very well to give him hope—but that he thought otherwise.”“You must manage him, Mr Easy; tell him that he is sure of his promotion.”“I have, sir, but he won’t believe it. He never will believe it till he has his commission signed. I really think that an acting order would do more than the doctor can.”“Well, Mr Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. Have you seen Mr Pottyfar? He, I am afraid, is very bad.”“Very bad, sir; and, they say, is worse every day, and yet his wound is healthy, and ought to be doing well.”Such was the conversation between Jack and his captain, as they sat at breakfast on the third morning after the action.The next day Easy took down an acting order for Martin, and put it into his hands. The mate read it over as he lay bandaged in his hammock.“It’s only an acting order, Jack,” said he; “it may not be confirmed.”Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be; but Martin replied that he was sure it never would.“No, no,” said the mate, “I knew very well that I never should be made. If it is not confirmed, I may live; but if it is, I am sure to die.”Every one that went to Martin’s hammock wished him joy of his promotion; but six days after the action poor Martin’s remains were consigned to the deep.The next person who followed him was Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant, who had contrived, wounded as he was, to reach a packet of the universal medicine, and had taken so many bottles before he was found out, that he was one morning found dead in his bed, with more than two dozen empty phials under his pillow, and by the side of his mattress. He was not buried with his hands in his pockets, but when sewed up in his hammock, they were, at all events, laid in the right position.

But before they met the Governor at his table, a sloop-of-war arrived from the fleet with despatches from the Commander-in-Chief. Those to Captain Wilson required him to make all possible haste in fitting, and then to proceed and cruise off Corsica, to fall in with a Russian frigate which was on that coast; if not there, to obtain intelligence, and to follow her wherever she might be.

All was now bustle and activity on board of theAurora. Captain Wilson, with our hero and Gascoigne, quitted the Governor’s house and repaired on board, where they remained day and night. On the third day theAurorawas complete and ready for sea, and about noon sailed out of Valette harbour.

In a week theAurorahad gained the coast of Corsica, and there was no need of sending look-out men to the mast-head, for one of the officers or midshipmen was there from daylight to dark. She ran up the coast to the northward without seeing the object of her pursuit, or obtaining any intelligence.

Calms and light airs detained them for a few days, when a northerly breeze enabled them to run down the eastern side of the island. It was on the eighteenth day after they had quitted Malta that a large vessel was seen ahead about eighteen miles off. The men were then at breakfast.

“A frigate, Captain Wilson, I’m sure of it,” said Mr Hawkins the chaplain, whose anxiety induced him to go to the mast-head.

“How is she steering?”

“The same way as we are.”

TheAurorawas under all possible sail, and when the hands were piped to dinner, it was thought that they had neared the chase about two miles.

“This will be a long chase; a stern chase always is,” observed Martin to Gascoigne.

“Yes, I’m afraid so—but I’m more afraid of her escaping.”

“That’s not unlikely either,” replied the mate.

“You are one of Job’s Comforters, Martin,” replied Gascoigne.

“Then I’m not so often disappointed,” replied the mate. “There are two points to be ascertained; the first is, whether we shall come up with the vessel or lose her—the next is, if we do come up with her, whether she is the vessel we are looking for.”

“You seem very indifferent about it.”

“Indeed I am not: I am the oldest passed midshipman in the ship, and the taking of the frigate will, if I live, give me my promotion, and if I’m killed, I shan’t want it. But I’ve been so often disappointed, that I now make sure of nothing until I have it.”

“Well, for your sake, Martin, I will still hope that the vessel is the one we seek, that we shall not be killed, and that you will gain your promotion.”

“I thank you, Easy—I wish I was one that dared hope as you do.”

Poor Martin! he had long felt how bitter it was to meet disappointment upon disappointment. How true it is that hope deferred maketh the heart sick! and his anticipations of early days, the buoyant calculations of youth, had been one by one crushed, and now, having served his time nearly three times over, the reaction had become too painful, and, as he truly said, he dared not hope: still his temper was not soured but chastened.

“She has hauled her wind, sir,” hailed the second-lieutenant from the topmast cross-trees.

“What think you of that, Martin?” observed Jack.

“Either that she is an English frigate, or that she is a vessel commanded by a very brave fellow, and well manned.”

It was sunset before theAurorahad arrived within two miles of the vessel; the private signal had been thrown out, but had not been answered, either because it was too dark to make out the colours of the flags, or that these were unknown to an enemy. The stranger had hoisted the English colours, but that was no satisfactory proof of her being a friend; and just before dark she had put her head towards theAurora, who had now come stem down to her. The ship’s company of theAurorawere all at their quarters, as a few minutes would now decide whether they had to deal with a friend or a foe.

There is no situation perhaps more difficult, and demanding so much caution, as the occasional meeting with a doubtful ship. On the one hand, it being necessary to be fully prepared and not allow the enemy the advantage which may be derived from your inaction; and on the other, the necessity of prudence, that you may not assault your friends and countrymen. Captain Wilson had hoisted the private night-signal, but here again it was difficult, from his sails intervening, for the other ship to make it out. Before the two frigates were within three cables length of each other, Captain Wilson, determined that there should be no mistake from any want of precaution on his part, hauled up his courses and brailed up his driver that the night-signal might be clearly seen.

Lights were seen abaft on the quarter-deck of the other vessel, as if they were about to answer, but she continued to keep theAurorato leeward at about half a cable’s length, and as the foremost guns of each vessel were abreast of each other, hailed in English—

“Ship ahoy; what ship’s that?”

“His Majesty’s shipAurora,” replied Captain Wilson, who stood on the hammocks. “What ship’s that?”

By this time the other frigate had passed half her length clear of the beam of theAurora, and at the same time that a pretended reply of “His Majesty’s ship—” was heard, a broadside from her guns, which had been trained aft on purpose, was poured into theAuroraand, at so short a distance, doing considerable execution. The crew of theAurora, hearing the hailing in English, and the vessel passing them apparently without firing, had imagined that she had been one of their own cruisers. The captains of the guns had dropped their lanyards in disappointment, and the silence which had been maintained as the two vessels met was just breaking up in various ways of lamentation at their bad luck, when the broadside was poured in, thundering in their ears, and the ripping and tearing of the beams and planks astonished their senses. Many were carried down below, but it was difficult to say whether indignation at the enemy’s ruse, or satisfaction at discovering that they were not called to quarters in vain, most predominated. At all events it was answered by three voluntary cheers, which drowned the cries of those who were being assisted to the cockpit.

“Man the larboard-guns and about ship!” cried Captain Wilson, leaping off the hammocks. “Look out, my lads, and rake her in stays! We’ll pay him off for that foul play before we’ve done with him. Look out, my lads, and take good aim as she pays round.”

TheAurorawas put about, and her broadside poured into the stern of the Russian frigate—for such she was. It was almost dark, but the enemy, who appeared as anxious as theAurorato come to action, hauled up her courses to await her coming up. In five minutes the two vessels were alongside exchanging murderous broadsides at little more than pistol-shot—running slowly in for the land, than not more than five miles distant. The skin-clad mountaineers of Corsica were aroused by the furious cannonading, watching the incessant flashes of the guns, and listening to their reverberating roar.

After half an hour’s fierce combat, during which the fire of both vessels was kept up with undiminished vigour, Captain Wilson went down on the main deck, and himself separately pointed each gun after it was loaded; those amidships being direct for the main-channels of the enemy’s ship, while those abaft the beam were gradually trained more and more forward, and those before the beam more and more aft, so as to throw all their shot nearly into one focus, giving directions that they were all to be fired at once, at the word of command. The enemy, not aware of the cause of the delay, imagined that the fire of theAurorahad slackened, and loudly cheered. At the word given the broadside was poured in, and, dark as it was, the effects from it were evident. Two of the midship ports of the antagonist were blown into one, and her main-mast was seen to totter, and then to fall over the side. TheAurorathen set her courses, which had been hauled up, and, shooting ahead, took up a raking position while the Russian was still hampered with her wreck, and poured in grape and cannister from her upper deck carronades to impede their labours on deck, while she continued her destructive fire upon the hull of the enemy from the main-deck battery.

The moon now burst out from a low bank of clouds, and enabled them to accomplish their work with more precision. In a quarter of an hour the Russian was totally dismasted, and Captain Wilson ordered half of his remaining ship’s company to repair the damages, which had been most severe, whilst the larboard men at quarters continued the fire from the main deck. The enemy continued to return the fire from four guns, two on each of her decks, which she could still make bear upon theAurora; but after some time even these ceased, either from the men having deserted them, or from their being dismounted. Observing that the fire from her antagonist had ceased, theAuroraalso discontinued, and the jolly-boat astern being still uninjured, the second lieutenant was deputed to pull alongside of the frigate to ascertain if she had struck.

The beams of the bright moon silvered the rippling water as the boat shoved off; and Captain Wilson and his officers who were still unhurt, leant over the shattered sides of theAurora, waiting for a reply: suddenly the silence of the night was broken upon by a loud splash from the bows of the Russian frigate, then about three cables’ length distant.

“What could that be?” cried Captain Wilson. “Her anchor’s down. Mr Jones, a lead over the side, and see what water we have.”

Mr Jones had long been carried down below, severed in two with a round shot—but a man leaped into the chains, and lowering down the lead, sounded in seven fathoms.

“Then I suspect he will give us more trouble yet,” observed Captain Wilson; and so indeed it proved, for the Russian captain, in reply to the second lieutenant, had told him in English, “that he would answer that question with his broadside,” and before the boat was dropped astern, he had warped round with the springs on his cable, and had recommenced his fire upon theAurora.

Captain Wilson made sail upon his ship, and sailed round and round the anchored vessel, so as to give her two broadsides to her one, and from the slowness with which she worked at her springs upon her cables, it was evident that she must be now very weak-handed. Still the pertinacity and decided courage of the Russian captain convinced Captain Wilson that, in all probability, he would sink at his anchor before he would haul down his colours; and not only would he lose more of theAurora’smen, but also the Russian vessel, without he took a more decided step. Captain Wilson, therefore, resolved to try her by the board. Having poured in a raking fire, he stood off for a few moments, during which he called the officers and men on deck, and stated his intention. He then went about, and himself conning theAurora, ran her on board the Russian, pouring in his reserved broadside as the vessels came into collision, and heading his men as they leaped on the enemy’s decks.

Although, as Captain Wilson had imagined, the Russian frigate had not many men to oppose to theAurora’s, the deck was obstinately defended, the voice and the arm of the Russian captain were to be heard and seen everywhere, and his men, encouraged by him, were cut down by numbers where they stood.

Our hero, who had the good fortune to be still unhurt, was for a little while close to Captain Wilson when he boarded, and was about to oppose his unequal force against that of the Russian captain, when he was pulled back by the collar by Mr Hawkins, the chaplain, who rushed in advance with a sabre in his hand. The opponents were well matched, and it may be said that, with little interruption, a hand-to-hand conflict ensued, for the moon lighted up the scene of carnage, and they were well able to distinguish each other’s faces. At last, the chaplain’s sword broke; he rushed in, drove the hilt into his antagonist’s face, closed with him, and they both fell down the hatchway together. After this, the deck was gained, or rather cleared, by the crew of theAurora, for few could be said to have resisted, and in a minute or two the frigate was in their possession. The chaplain and the Russian captain were hoisted up, still clinging to each other, both senseless from the fall, but neither of them dead; although bleeding from several wounds.

As soon as the main-deck had been cleared, Captain Wilson ordered the hatches to be put on, and left a party on board while he hastened to attend to the condition of his own ship and ship’s company.

It was daylight before anything like order had been restored to the decks of theAurora; the water was still smooth, and instead of letting go her own anchor, she had hung on with a hawser to the prize, but her sails had been furled, her decks cleared, guns secured, and the buckets were dashing away the blood from her planks and the carriages of the guns, when the sun rose and shone upon them. The numerous wounded had, by this time, been put into their hammocks, although there were still one or two cases of amputation to be performed.

The carpenter had repaired all shot-holes under or too near to the water-line, and then had proceeded to sound the well of the prize; but although her upper works had been dreadfully shattered, there was no reason to suppose that she had received any serious injury below, and therefore the hatches still remained on, although a few hands were put to the pumps to try if she made any water. It was not until theAurorapresented a more cheerful appearance that Captain Wilson went over to the other ship, whose deck, now that the light of heaven enabled them to witness all the horrors even to minuteness, presented a shocking spectacle of blood and carnage. Body after body was thrown over; the wounded were supplied with water and such assistance as could be rendered until the surgeons could attend them; the hatches were then taken off, and the remainder of her crew ordered on deck; about two hundred obeyed the summons, but the lower deck was as crowded with killed and wounded as was the upper. For the present the prisoners were handed over down into the forehold of theAurora, which had been prepared for their reception, and the work of separation of the dead from the living then underwent. After this such repairs as were immediately necessary were made, and a portion of theAurora’screw, under the orders of the second lieutenant, were sent on board to take charge of her. It was not till the evening of the day after this night-conflict that theAurorawas in a situation to make sail. All hands were then sent on board of theTrident, for such was the name of the Russian frigate, to fit her out as soon as possible. Before morning—for there was no relaxation from their fatigue, nor was there any wish for it—all was completed, and the two frigates, although in a shattered condition, were prepared to meet any common conflict with the elements. TheAuroramade sail with theTridentin tow; the hammocks were allowed to be taken down, and the watch below permitted to repose.

In this murderous conflict theTridenthad more than two hundred men killed and wounded. TheAurora’sloss had not been so great, but still it was severe, having lost sixty-five men and officers. Among the fallen there were Mr Jones the master, the third lieutenant Mr Awkwright, and two midshipmen killed. Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant, severely wounded at the commencement of the action. Martin, the master’s mate, and Gascoigne, the first mortally, and the second badly, wounded. Our hero had also received a slight cutlass wound, which obliged him to wear his arm, for a short time, in a sling.

Among the ship’s company who were wounded was Mesty: he had been hurt with a splinter before theTridentwas taken by the board, but had remained on deck, and had followed our hero, watching over him and protecting him as a father. He had done even more, for he had with Jack thrown himself before Captain Wilson, at a time that he had received such a blow with the flat of a sword as to stun him and bring him down on his knee. And Jack had taken good care that Captain Wilson should not be ignorant, as he really would have been, of this timely service on the part of Mesty, who certainly, although with a great deal ofsang-froidin his composition when in repose, was a fiend incarnate when his blood was up.

“But you must have been with Mesty,” observed Captain Wilson, “when he did me the service.”

“I was with him, sir,” replied Jack, with great modesty, “but was of very little service.”

“How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?”

“Oh, not very bad, sir—he wants a glass of grog.”

“And Mr Martin?”

Jack shook his head.

“Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well.”

“Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was very well to give him hope—but that he thought otherwise.”

“You must manage him, Mr Easy; tell him that he is sure of his promotion.”

“I have, sir, but he won’t believe it. He never will believe it till he has his commission signed. I really think that an acting order would do more than the doctor can.”

“Well, Mr Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. Have you seen Mr Pottyfar? He, I am afraid, is very bad.”

“Very bad, sir; and, they say, is worse every day, and yet his wound is healthy, and ought to be doing well.”

Such was the conversation between Jack and his captain, as they sat at breakfast on the third morning after the action.

The next day Easy took down an acting order for Martin, and put it into his hands. The mate read it over as he lay bandaged in his hammock.

“It’s only an acting order, Jack,” said he; “it may not be confirmed.”

Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be; but Martin replied that he was sure it never would.

“No, no,” said the mate, “I knew very well that I never should be made. If it is not confirmed, I may live; but if it is, I am sure to die.”

Every one that went to Martin’s hammock wished him joy of his promotion; but six days after the action poor Martin’s remains were consigned to the deep.

The next person who followed him was Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant, who had contrived, wounded as he was, to reach a packet of the universal medicine, and had taken so many bottles before he was found out, that he was one morning found dead in his bed, with more than two dozen empty phials under his pillow, and by the side of his mattress. He was not buried with his hands in his pockets, but when sewed up in his hammock, they were, at all events, laid in the right position.

Chapter Thirty.Modern philanthropy which, as usual, is the cause of much trouble and vexation.In three weeks theAurora, with her prize in tow, arrived at Malta. The wounded were sent to the hospital, and the gallant Russian captain recovered from his wounds about the same time as Mr Hawkins, the chaplain.Jack, who constantly called to see the chaplain, had a great deal to do to console him. He would shake his hands as he lay in his bed, exclaiming against himself. “Oh,” Would he say, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. That I, a man of God, as they term me, who ought to have been down with the surgeons, whispering comfort to the desponding, should have gone on deck (but I could not help it), and have mixed in such a scene of slaughter! What will become of me?”Jack attempted to console him by pointing out that not only chaplains but bishops have been known to fight in armour from time immemorial. But Mr Hawkins’s recovery was long doubtful, from the agitation of his mind. When he was able to walk, Jack introduced to him the Russian captain, who was also just out of his bed.“I am most happy to embrace so gallant an officer,” said the Russian, who recognised his antagonist, throwing his arms round the chaplain, and giving him a kiss on both cheeks. “What is his rank?” continued he, addressing himself to Jack, who replied, very quietly, “that he was the ship’s padre.”“The padre!” replied the captain, with surprise, as Hawkins turned away with confusion. “The padre—par exemple! Well, I always had a great respect for the church. Pray sir,” said he, turning to Easy, “do your padres always head your boarders?”“Always, sir,” replied Jack; “it’s a rule of the service—and the duty of a padre to show the men the way to heaven. It’s our ninety-ninth article of war.”“You are a fighting nation,” replied the Russian, bowing to Hawkins, and continuing his walk, not exactly pleased that he had been floored by a parson.Mr Hawkins continued very disconsolate for some time; he then invalided and applied himself to his duties on shore, where he would not be exposed to such temptations from his former habits.As theAurora, when she was last at Malta, had nearly exhausted the dockyard for her repairs, she was even longer fitting out this time, during which Captain Wilson’s despatches had been received by the admiral, and had been acknowledged by a brig sent to Malta. The admiral, in reply, after complimenting him upon his gallantry and success, desired that, as soon as he was ready, he should proceed to Palermo with communications of importance to the authorities, and having remained there for an answer, was again to return to Malta to pick up such of his men as might be fit to leave the hospital, and then join the Toulon fleet. This intelligence was soon known to our hero, who was in ecstasies at the idea of again seeing Agnes and her brothers. Once more theAurorasailed away from the high-crowned rocks of Valette, and with a fine breeze dashed through the deep blue waves.But towards the evening the breeze increased, and they were under double-reefed topsails. On the second day they made the coast of Sicily, not far from where Easy and Gascoigne had been driven on shore; the weather was then more moderate, and the sea had, to a great degree, subsided. They therefore stood in close to the coast, as they had not a leading wind to Palermo. As they stood in, the glasses, as usual, were directed to land; observing the villas with which the hills and valleys were studded, with their white fronts embowered in orange groves.“What is that, Gascoigne,” said Easy, “under that precipice?—it looks like a vessel.”Gascoigne turned his glass in the direction—“Yes, it is a vessel on the rocks: by her prow she looks like a galley.”“It is a galley, sir—one of the row galleys—I can make out her bank of oars,” observed the signal-man.This was reported to Captain Wilson, who also examined her.“She is on the rocks, certainly,” observed he; “and I think I see people on board. Keep her away a point, quarter-master.”TheAurorawas now steered right for the vessel, and in the course of an hour was not more than a mile from her. Their suppositions were correct—it was one of the Sicilian government galleys bilged on the rocks, and they now perceived that there were people on board of her, making signals with their shirts and pieces of linen.“They must be the galley-slaves; for I perceive that they do not one of them change their positions: the galley must have been abandoned by the officers and seamen, and the slaves left to perish.”“That’s very hard,” observed Jack to Gascoigne; “they were condemned to the galleys, but not to death.”“They will not have much mercy from the waves,” replied Gascoigne; “they will all be in kingdom come to-morrow morning, if the breeze comes more on the land. We have already come up two points this forenoon.”Although Captain Wilson did not join in this conversation, which he overheard as he stood on the forecastle gun, with his glass over the hammocks, it appears he was of the same opinion; but he demurred: he had to choose between allowing so many of his fellow-creatures to perish miserably, or to let loose upon society a set of miscreants, who would again enter a course of crime until they were recaptured, and by so doing probably displease the Sicilian authorities. After some little reflection he resolved that he would take his chance of the latter. TheAurorawas hove-to in stays, and the two cutters ordered to be lowered down, and the boat’s crew to be armed.“Mr Easy, do you take one cutter and the armourers; pull on board of the galley, release those people, and land them in small divisions. Mr Gascoigne, you will take the other to assist Mr Easy, and when he lands them in his boat, you will pull by his side ready to act, in case of any hostile attempt on the part of the scoundrels; for we must not expect gratitude: of course, land them at the nearest safe spot for debarkation.”In pursuance of these orders, our two midshipmen pulled away to the vessel. They found her fixed hard upon the rocks, which had pierced her slight timbers, and, as they had supposed, the respectable part of her crew, with the commander, had taken to the boats, leaving the galley-slaves to their fate. She pulled fifty oars, but had only thirty-six manned. These oars were forty feet long, and ran in from the thole-pin with a loom six feet long, each manned by four slaves, who were chained to their seat before it, by a running chain made fast by a padlock in amidships. A plank, of two feet wide, ran fore and aft the vessel between the two banks of oars, for the boatswain to apply the lash to those who did not sufficiently exert themselves.“Viva los Inglesos,” cried the galley-slaves, as Easy climbed up over the quarter of the vessel.“I say, Ned, did you ever see such a precious set of villains?” observed Easy, as he surveyed the faces of the men who were chained.“No,” replied Gascoigne; “and I think if the captain had seen them as we have, that he would have left them where they were.”“I don’t know—but however, our orders are positive. Armourer, knock off all the padlocks, beginning aft; when we have a cargo we will land them. How many are there?—twelve dozen; twelve dozen villains to let loose upon society. I have a great mind to go on board again and report my opinion to the captain—one hundred and forty-four villains, who all deserve hanging—for drowning is too good for them.”“Our orders are to liberate them, Jack.”“Yes; but I should like to argue this point with Captain Wilson.”“They’ll send after them fast enough, Jack, and they’ll all be in limbo again before long,” replied Gascoigne.“Well, I suppose we must obey orders; but it goes against my conscience to save such villainous-looking rascals. Armourer, hammer away.”The armourer, who, with the seamen, appeared very much of Jack’s opinion, and had not commenced his work, now struck off the padlocks, one by one, with his sledge-hammer. As soon as they were released the slaves were ordered into the cutter, and when it was sufficiently loaded Jack shoved off, followed by Gascoigne as guard, and landed them at the point about a cable’s length distant. It required six trips before they were all landed: the last cargo were on shore, and Easy was desiring the men to shove off, when one of the galleriens turned round, and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, “Addio signor, a reveder la.” Jack started, stared, and in the squalid, naked wretch who addressed him, he recognised Don Silvio!“I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,” said the miscreant, springing up the rocks, and mixing with the rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing at their preservers.“Ned,” observed Easy to Gascoigne, “we have let that rascal loose.”“More’s the pity,” replied Gascoigne; “but we have only obeyed orders.”“It can’t be helped, but I’ve a notion there will be some mischief out of this.”“We obeyed orders,” replied Gascoigne.“We’ve let the rascals loose not ten miles from Don Rebiera’s.”“Obeyed orders, Jack.”“With a whole gang to back him, if he goes there.”“Orders, Jack.”“Agnes at his mercy.”“Captain’s orders, Jack.”“I shall argue this point when I go on board,” replied Jack.“Too late, Jack.”“Yes,” replied Easy, sinking down on the stern sheets with a look of despair.“Give way, my lads, give way.”Jack returned on board and reported what he had done; also that Don Silvio was among those liberated; and he ventured to mention his fears of what might take place from their contiguity to the house of Don Rebiera. Captain Wilson bit his lips: he felt that his philanthropy had induced him to act without his usual prudence.“I have done a rash thing, Mr Easy, I am afraid. I should have taken them all on board and delivered them up to the authorities. I wish I had thought of that before. We must get to Palermo as fast as we can, and have the troops sent after these miscreants. Hands ’bout ship, fill the main-yard.”The wind had veered round, and theAurorawas now able to lay up clear of the island of Maritimo. The next morning she anchored in Palermo Roads—gave immediate notice to the authorities, who, wishing Captain Wilson’s philanthropy at the devil, immediately dispatched a large body of troops in quest of the liberated malefactors. Captain Wilson, feeling for Jack’s anxiety about his friends, called him over to him on deck, and gave him and Gascoigne permission to go on shore.“Will you allow me to take Mesty with me, sir, if you please?” said Jack.“Yes, Mr Easy: but recollect that, even with Mesty, you are no match for one hundred and fifty men, so be prudent. I send, you to relieve your anxiety, not to run into danger.”“Of course, sir,” replied Jack, touching his hat, and walking away quietly till he came to the hatch-way, when he darted down like a shot, and was immediately occupied with his preparations.In half an hour our two midshipmen, with Mesty, had landed, and proceeded to the inn where they had put up before: they were armed up to the teeth. Their first inquiries were for Don Philip and his brother.“Both on leave of absence,” replied the landlord, “and staying with Don Rebiera.”“That’s some comfort,” thought Jack. “Now we must get horses as fast as we can.—Mesty, can you ride?”“By all de power can I ride, Massa Easy; suppose you ride Kentucky horse, you ride anyting.”In half an hour four horses and a guide were procured, and at eight o’clock in the morning the party set off in the direction of Don Rebiera’s country-seat.They had not ridden more than six miles when they came up with one of the detachments sent out in pursuit of the liberated criminals. Our hero recognised the commanding officer as an old acquaintance, and imparting to him the release of Don Silvio, and his fears upon Don Rebiera’s account, begged him to direct his attention that way.“Corpo di Bacco—you are right, Signor Mid,” replied the officer, “but Don Philip is there, and his brother too, I believe. I will be there by ten o’clock to-morrow morning; we will march almost the whole night.”“They have no arms,” observed Easy.“No, but they will soon get them: they will go to some small town in a body, plunder it, and then seek the protection of the mountains. Your captain has given us a pretty job.”Jack exchanged a few more words, and then, excusing himself on account of his haste, put the spurs to his horse and regained his own party, who now proceeded at a rapid pace.“O Signor!” said the guide, “we shall kill the horses.”“I’ll pay for them,” said Jack.“Yes, but we shall kill them before we get there, Jack,” replied Gascoigne, “and have to walk the rest of the way.”“Very true, Ned; let’s pull up, and give them their wind.”“By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but my shirt stick to my ribs,” cried Mesty, whose black face was hung with dewdrops from their rapid course.“Never mind, Mesty.”It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived at the seat of Don Rebiera. Jack threw himself off his jaded steed, and hastened into the house, followed by Gascoigne. They found the whole family collected in the large sitting-room, quite ignorant of any danger threatening them, and equally astonished and pleased at the arrival of their old friends. Jack flew to Agnes, who screamed when she saw him, and felt so giddy afterwards that he was obliged to support her. Having seated her again, he was kindly greeted by the old people and the two young officers. After a few minutes dedicated to mutual inquiries, our hero stated the cause of their expeditious arrival.“Don Silvio with one hundred and fifty galleriens, let loose on the coast yesterday afternoon!” exclaimed Don Rebiera; “you are right, I only wonder they were not here last night. But I expect Pedro from the town; he has gone down with a load of wine: he will bring us intelligence.”“At all events, we must be prepared,” said Don Philip, “the troops you say will be here to-morrow morning.”“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the ladies in a breath.“How many can we muster?” said Gascoigne.“We will have five men here, or we shall have by the evening,” replied Don Philip—“all, I think, good men—my father, my brother and myself.”“We are three—four with the guide, whom I know nothing about.”“Twelve in all—not one too many; but I think that now we are prepared, if they attack, we can hold out till the morning.”“Had we not better send the ladies away?” said Jack.“Who is to escort them?” replied Don Philip; “we shall only weaken our force: besides, they may fall into the miscreants’ hands.”“Shall we all leave the house together? they can but plunder it,” observed Don Rebiera.“Still we may be intercepted by them, and our whole force will be nothing against so many,” observed Don Philip, “if we are without defence, whereas in the house we shall have an advantage.”“E vero,” replied Don Rebiera, thoughtfully; “then let us prepare, for depend upon it Don Silvio will not lose such an opportunity to wreak his vengeance. He will be here to-night: I only wonder he has not been here with his companions before. However, Pedro will arrive in two hours.”“We must now see what means we have of defence,” said Philip. “Come, brother—will you come, sir?”

In three weeks theAurora, with her prize in tow, arrived at Malta. The wounded were sent to the hospital, and the gallant Russian captain recovered from his wounds about the same time as Mr Hawkins, the chaplain.

Jack, who constantly called to see the chaplain, had a great deal to do to console him. He would shake his hands as he lay in his bed, exclaiming against himself. “Oh,” Would he say, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. That I, a man of God, as they term me, who ought to have been down with the surgeons, whispering comfort to the desponding, should have gone on deck (but I could not help it), and have mixed in such a scene of slaughter! What will become of me?”

Jack attempted to console him by pointing out that not only chaplains but bishops have been known to fight in armour from time immemorial. But Mr Hawkins’s recovery was long doubtful, from the agitation of his mind. When he was able to walk, Jack introduced to him the Russian captain, who was also just out of his bed.

“I am most happy to embrace so gallant an officer,” said the Russian, who recognised his antagonist, throwing his arms round the chaplain, and giving him a kiss on both cheeks. “What is his rank?” continued he, addressing himself to Jack, who replied, very quietly, “that he was the ship’s padre.”

“The padre!” replied the captain, with surprise, as Hawkins turned away with confusion. “The padre—par exemple! Well, I always had a great respect for the church. Pray sir,” said he, turning to Easy, “do your padres always head your boarders?”

“Always, sir,” replied Jack; “it’s a rule of the service—and the duty of a padre to show the men the way to heaven. It’s our ninety-ninth article of war.”

“You are a fighting nation,” replied the Russian, bowing to Hawkins, and continuing his walk, not exactly pleased that he had been floored by a parson.

Mr Hawkins continued very disconsolate for some time; he then invalided and applied himself to his duties on shore, where he would not be exposed to such temptations from his former habits.

As theAurora, when she was last at Malta, had nearly exhausted the dockyard for her repairs, she was even longer fitting out this time, during which Captain Wilson’s despatches had been received by the admiral, and had been acknowledged by a brig sent to Malta. The admiral, in reply, after complimenting him upon his gallantry and success, desired that, as soon as he was ready, he should proceed to Palermo with communications of importance to the authorities, and having remained there for an answer, was again to return to Malta to pick up such of his men as might be fit to leave the hospital, and then join the Toulon fleet. This intelligence was soon known to our hero, who was in ecstasies at the idea of again seeing Agnes and her brothers. Once more theAurorasailed away from the high-crowned rocks of Valette, and with a fine breeze dashed through the deep blue waves.

But towards the evening the breeze increased, and they were under double-reefed topsails. On the second day they made the coast of Sicily, not far from where Easy and Gascoigne had been driven on shore; the weather was then more moderate, and the sea had, to a great degree, subsided. They therefore stood in close to the coast, as they had not a leading wind to Palermo. As they stood in, the glasses, as usual, were directed to land; observing the villas with which the hills and valleys were studded, with their white fronts embowered in orange groves.

“What is that, Gascoigne,” said Easy, “under that precipice?—it looks like a vessel.”

Gascoigne turned his glass in the direction—“Yes, it is a vessel on the rocks: by her prow she looks like a galley.”

“It is a galley, sir—one of the row galleys—I can make out her bank of oars,” observed the signal-man.

This was reported to Captain Wilson, who also examined her.

“She is on the rocks, certainly,” observed he; “and I think I see people on board. Keep her away a point, quarter-master.”

TheAurorawas now steered right for the vessel, and in the course of an hour was not more than a mile from her. Their suppositions were correct—it was one of the Sicilian government galleys bilged on the rocks, and they now perceived that there were people on board of her, making signals with their shirts and pieces of linen.

“They must be the galley-slaves; for I perceive that they do not one of them change their positions: the galley must have been abandoned by the officers and seamen, and the slaves left to perish.”

“That’s very hard,” observed Jack to Gascoigne; “they were condemned to the galleys, but not to death.”

“They will not have much mercy from the waves,” replied Gascoigne; “they will all be in kingdom come to-morrow morning, if the breeze comes more on the land. We have already come up two points this forenoon.”

Although Captain Wilson did not join in this conversation, which he overheard as he stood on the forecastle gun, with his glass over the hammocks, it appears he was of the same opinion; but he demurred: he had to choose between allowing so many of his fellow-creatures to perish miserably, or to let loose upon society a set of miscreants, who would again enter a course of crime until they were recaptured, and by so doing probably displease the Sicilian authorities. After some little reflection he resolved that he would take his chance of the latter. TheAurorawas hove-to in stays, and the two cutters ordered to be lowered down, and the boat’s crew to be armed.

“Mr Easy, do you take one cutter and the armourers; pull on board of the galley, release those people, and land them in small divisions. Mr Gascoigne, you will take the other to assist Mr Easy, and when he lands them in his boat, you will pull by his side ready to act, in case of any hostile attempt on the part of the scoundrels; for we must not expect gratitude: of course, land them at the nearest safe spot for debarkation.”

In pursuance of these orders, our two midshipmen pulled away to the vessel. They found her fixed hard upon the rocks, which had pierced her slight timbers, and, as they had supposed, the respectable part of her crew, with the commander, had taken to the boats, leaving the galley-slaves to their fate. She pulled fifty oars, but had only thirty-six manned. These oars were forty feet long, and ran in from the thole-pin with a loom six feet long, each manned by four slaves, who were chained to their seat before it, by a running chain made fast by a padlock in amidships. A plank, of two feet wide, ran fore and aft the vessel between the two banks of oars, for the boatswain to apply the lash to those who did not sufficiently exert themselves.

“Viva los Inglesos,” cried the galley-slaves, as Easy climbed up over the quarter of the vessel.

“I say, Ned, did you ever see such a precious set of villains?” observed Easy, as he surveyed the faces of the men who were chained.

“No,” replied Gascoigne; “and I think if the captain had seen them as we have, that he would have left them where they were.”

“I don’t know—but however, our orders are positive. Armourer, knock off all the padlocks, beginning aft; when we have a cargo we will land them. How many are there?—twelve dozen; twelve dozen villains to let loose upon society. I have a great mind to go on board again and report my opinion to the captain—one hundred and forty-four villains, who all deserve hanging—for drowning is too good for them.”

“Our orders are to liberate them, Jack.”

“Yes; but I should like to argue this point with Captain Wilson.”

“They’ll send after them fast enough, Jack, and they’ll all be in limbo again before long,” replied Gascoigne.

“Well, I suppose we must obey orders; but it goes against my conscience to save such villainous-looking rascals. Armourer, hammer away.”

The armourer, who, with the seamen, appeared very much of Jack’s opinion, and had not commenced his work, now struck off the padlocks, one by one, with his sledge-hammer. As soon as they were released the slaves were ordered into the cutter, and when it was sufficiently loaded Jack shoved off, followed by Gascoigne as guard, and landed them at the point about a cable’s length distant. It required six trips before they were all landed: the last cargo were on shore, and Easy was desiring the men to shove off, when one of the galleriens turned round, and cried out to Jack in a mocking tone, “Addio signor, a reveder la.” Jack started, stared, and in the squalid, naked wretch who addressed him, he recognised Don Silvio!

“I will acquaint Don Rebiera of your arrival, signor,” said the miscreant, springing up the rocks, and mixing with the rest, who now commenced hooting and laughing at their preservers.

“Ned,” observed Easy to Gascoigne, “we have let that rascal loose.”

“More’s the pity,” replied Gascoigne; “but we have only obeyed orders.”

“It can’t be helped, but I’ve a notion there will be some mischief out of this.”

“We obeyed orders,” replied Gascoigne.

“We’ve let the rascals loose not ten miles from Don Rebiera’s.”

“Obeyed orders, Jack.”

“With a whole gang to back him, if he goes there.”

“Orders, Jack.”

“Agnes at his mercy.”

“Captain’s orders, Jack.”

“I shall argue this point when I go on board,” replied Jack.

“Too late, Jack.”

“Yes,” replied Easy, sinking down on the stern sheets with a look of despair.

“Give way, my lads, give way.”

Jack returned on board and reported what he had done; also that Don Silvio was among those liberated; and he ventured to mention his fears of what might take place from their contiguity to the house of Don Rebiera. Captain Wilson bit his lips: he felt that his philanthropy had induced him to act without his usual prudence.

“I have done a rash thing, Mr Easy, I am afraid. I should have taken them all on board and delivered them up to the authorities. I wish I had thought of that before. We must get to Palermo as fast as we can, and have the troops sent after these miscreants. Hands ’bout ship, fill the main-yard.”

The wind had veered round, and theAurorawas now able to lay up clear of the island of Maritimo. The next morning she anchored in Palermo Roads—gave immediate notice to the authorities, who, wishing Captain Wilson’s philanthropy at the devil, immediately dispatched a large body of troops in quest of the liberated malefactors. Captain Wilson, feeling for Jack’s anxiety about his friends, called him over to him on deck, and gave him and Gascoigne permission to go on shore.

“Will you allow me to take Mesty with me, sir, if you please?” said Jack.

“Yes, Mr Easy: but recollect that, even with Mesty, you are no match for one hundred and fifty men, so be prudent. I send, you to relieve your anxiety, not to run into danger.”

“Of course, sir,” replied Jack, touching his hat, and walking away quietly till he came to the hatch-way, when he darted down like a shot, and was immediately occupied with his preparations.

In half an hour our two midshipmen, with Mesty, had landed, and proceeded to the inn where they had put up before: they were armed up to the teeth. Their first inquiries were for Don Philip and his brother.

“Both on leave of absence,” replied the landlord, “and staying with Don Rebiera.”

“That’s some comfort,” thought Jack. “Now we must get horses as fast as we can.—Mesty, can you ride?”

“By all de power can I ride, Massa Easy; suppose you ride Kentucky horse, you ride anyting.”

In half an hour four horses and a guide were procured, and at eight o’clock in the morning the party set off in the direction of Don Rebiera’s country-seat.

They had not ridden more than six miles when they came up with one of the detachments sent out in pursuit of the liberated criminals. Our hero recognised the commanding officer as an old acquaintance, and imparting to him the release of Don Silvio, and his fears upon Don Rebiera’s account, begged him to direct his attention that way.

“Corpo di Bacco—you are right, Signor Mid,” replied the officer, “but Don Philip is there, and his brother too, I believe. I will be there by ten o’clock to-morrow morning; we will march almost the whole night.”

“They have no arms,” observed Easy.

“No, but they will soon get them: they will go to some small town in a body, plunder it, and then seek the protection of the mountains. Your captain has given us a pretty job.”

Jack exchanged a few more words, and then, excusing himself on account of his haste, put the spurs to his horse and regained his own party, who now proceeded at a rapid pace.

“O Signor!” said the guide, “we shall kill the horses.”

“I’ll pay for them,” said Jack.

“Yes, but we shall kill them before we get there, Jack,” replied Gascoigne, “and have to walk the rest of the way.”

“Very true, Ned; let’s pull up, and give them their wind.”

“By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but my shirt stick to my ribs,” cried Mesty, whose black face was hung with dewdrops from their rapid course.

“Never mind, Mesty.”

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived at the seat of Don Rebiera. Jack threw himself off his jaded steed, and hastened into the house, followed by Gascoigne. They found the whole family collected in the large sitting-room, quite ignorant of any danger threatening them, and equally astonished and pleased at the arrival of their old friends. Jack flew to Agnes, who screamed when she saw him, and felt so giddy afterwards that he was obliged to support her. Having seated her again, he was kindly greeted by the old people and the two young officers. After a few minutes dedicated to mutual inquiries, our hero stated the cause of their expeditious arrival.

“Don Silvio with one hundred and fifty galleriens, let loose on the coast yesterday afternoon!” exclaimed Don Rebiera; “you are right, I only wonder they were not here last night. But I expect Pedro from the town; he has gone down with a load of wine: he will bring us intelligence.”

“At all events, we must be prepared,” said Don Philip, “the troops you say will be here to-morrow morning.”

“Holy Virgin!” exclaimed the ladies in a breath.

“How many can we muster?” said Gascoigne.

“We will have five men here, or we shall have by the evening,” replied Don Philip—“all, I think, good men—my father, my brother and myself.”

“We are three—four with the guide, whom I know nothing about.”

“Twelve in all—not one too many; but I think that now we are prepared, if they attack, we can hold out till the morning.”

“Had we not better send the ladies away?” said Jack.

“Who is to escort them?” replied Don Philip; “we shall only weaken our force: besides, they may fall into the miscreants’ hands.”

“Shall we all leave the house together? they can but plunder it,” observed Don Rebiera.

“Still we may be intercepted by them, and our whole force will be nothing against so many,” observed Don Philip, “if we are without defence, whereas in the house we shall have an advantage.”

“E vero,” replied Don Rebiera, thoughtfully; “then let us prepare, for depend upon it Don Silvio will not lose such an opportunity to wreak his vengeance. He will be here to-night: I only wonder he has not been here with his companions before. However, Pedro will arrive in two hours.”

“We must now see what means we have of defence,” said Philip. “Come, brother—will you come, sir?”

Back to IndexNext