Chapter Twenty Three.

Chapter Twenty Three.“Recollect,” says the fellow, “you have thrown overboard a black tom cat!”In a quarter of an hour the pump sucked, and we all hastened down below to our grog and the completion of our yarn. As soon as we were all comfortably seated as before, Dick recommenced.“Well, we were abreast of Malta, when the weather, which had hitherto on the voyage been very fine, changed. The clouds hung down very heavy, and there was every symptom of a fierce gale; and sure enough a worse gale I never was in than came on that night—and such a sea!—the ship rolled gunnel under, for the gale was fair, but the sea ran so high and so fast that we expected to be pooped every minute. It was about midnight when the rain came on in torrents, and the wind blew fiercer than ever. I was on deck, and so was the first mate and another man at the helm, for we were flying right before it, and she was hard to steer.“‘We shall have it worse yet,’ said the captain.“‘Miaw!’ was the reply, so clear, so loud, we could not tell where it came from. I thought it came from the main-top.“‘Mercy on us! what was that?’ said the first mate, the light from the binnacle showing his face as pale as a sheet.“‘Miaw!’ was the reply from somewhere.“‘The black cat, by all that’s blue!’ cried the captain.“‘The Lord have mercy upon us, we’re all gone!’ said the mate, clasping his hands in terror. To clasp his hands, of course he let go the wheel; and the other man, who was equally frightened, had not strength to hold it. Away he went, right over the wheel, knocking down the mate on the other side; and the ship taking a heavy lurch, they both went into the scuppers together. The ship breached-to, and our mainmast and mizenmast went over the side.”“Do top that glim, Bill,” said one of the men, in a tremulous voice.Dick paused while the snuff was taken off the candle; and the water went tap, tap, tap against the bends, with a most melancholy sound. I really did feel rather queer myself.Dick continued. “Well, all hands were on deck immediately, and it was good two hours before we could clear the wreck, for the men were disheartened. They had heard the loudmiawwhen in the fore-peak, and declared that it was close to them; and the passenger and Jim came out, frightened out of their wits. They had heard themiaw, and said that it was from under the cabin table. At last we were clear of the wreck, and the wind roared louder than ever.“The captain was a stout-hearted fellow, and as the men were collected together under the bulwark, he said, ‘Well, this breeze will shorten our distance, at any rate, and if it holds we shall soon be at Smyrna.’“‘We shall never see Smyrna!’ replied the second mate, his teeth chattering.“‘No, never!’ cried the seamen.“The captain sent Jim down for his rum-bottle, and gave every man a stiff glass of liquor, and that made them feel more comfortable for a time; when there was a sort of lull, and again the loudmiawwas repeated.“‘There it is!’ cried the men; but they hardly had time to say so, when the ship was pooped with a tremendous sea washing away the stern and quarter boats, and sending all the men swimming forward. So loaded was the ship with water that she stopped, and appeared as if she was settling down. At last she rolled heavy to port and discharged it, and away we went before the wind, faster than ever. Well, there was some talk among the seamen of throwing poor Jim overboard to appease the ghost of the cat, for it was he who had thrown the cat overboard. But the captain heard what the men were saying, and he swore that he would knock the brains out of the first man who laid hold of the boy; and he sent Jim below out of harm’s way. Poor Jim! how bitterly he cried, poor boy, when he heard what was going on.“Well, it’s a long lane that has no turning, and no gale lasts for ever: the next day it moderated, and the day after the weather was quite fine, and the sea had gone down. We recovered our spirits, the more so as we heard no more of the cat; and having jury-rigged her aft, we steered our course with a light breeze. We were now but a short distance from Smyrna, and hoped to be there by the next day; but the second mate shook his head; he said, ‘The cat has not done with us, for it was ablack tomcat.’“The fourth day the captain came on deck, and said, ‘I heard a great washing of water in the run last night, as I thought; have you sounded the well lately?’“‘No,’ replied the first mate, ‘I left that to the carpenter.’“‘Well, then, ask him.’ Well, the carpenter had not sounded the well, as it appeared; and so he sounded it immediately, and found that we hadsix feet water in the hold.“‘I knowed we were doomed,’ said the second mate; ‘we’ll never get at port:’ and so thought the men; but the captain said:—“‘Why, the fact is, my lads, we must have sprung a leak in the gale, and no wonder, beating against the wreck so as we did when the masts went over the side. Come, rig the pumps, and we shall soon clear her. The tom cat has nothing to do with this, at all events.’“Now, you see, our bottom cargo consisted of two or three tier of crates of crockery, which would not spoil by being wet; but the upper part of the cargo was bales of dry goods and linen; so the captain was very anxious that they should work the pumps before the water got higher: the weather was very fine, the sea smooth, and the wind, although fair, was light. Well, the seamen were terrified, and thought they were lost; they asked for liquor, and refused to work at the pumps; they said it was no use, the ship was doomed. Well, the captain he got very angry; he went down into the cabin, loaded his double-barrelled gun, and swore that he would shoot the first man through the head who refused to work at the pumps. The men knew that he was in earnest, for he was a violent sort of fellow, and so they set to. We didn’t gain much upon her; I thought we did a little, but the men said no. The captain declared that we did gain considerably, but it was supposed that he only said so to encourage the people. Well, the captain ordered the mate to take up the hatches, that they might see the state of the cargo. This was done; the dry goods, as far as we could make out, were not injured, and the men pumped spell and spell until the evening, when the captain gave them a good allowance of grog, and an hour to rest themselves. It was a beautiful moonlight night: the sails were just asleep and no more; but the vessel was heavy, from the water in her, and we dragged slowly along. The captain, who had gone down below with the first mate, came up from the cabin, and said to the men, ‘Now, my lads, we’ll set to again;’ when suddenly there was a loud, melancholymiaw! which terrified us all. We looked from whence the sound appeared to come, and there, on the launch turned over amidship, we beheld the ghost of the black tom cat, so large, so black, with the broad moonlight shining on it; and so thin, it was the skeleton of the cat, only it looked as black as ever; its back was humped up and its tail curved; and, as it stood out in the broad moonlight, it did look twice as big as the original cat, which was the biggest I ever saw. Well, the men actually screamed; they ran aft, upsetting the captain and mate, and rolling over them and hiding their faces, with ‘Lord have mercy on us!’ and ‘God forgive our sins!’ and ‘Oh! we’re lost, we’re lost!’ and every sort of crying and groaning that could be thought of. At last the captain gets up from under them in a great rage and looks forward to see what was the matter, and there he sees the ghost of the tom cat standing just in the same place; and it gave another miserablemiaw! ‘Why,’ cried the captain (who had his grog on board, and was as brave as brass), ‘it is the cussed cat himself. Stop a moment.’ Down he goes to the cabin, reels up the hatchway again with his double-barrelled gun, and lets fly at it”—(here Dick lowered his voice to almost a whisper)—“the cat gave a shriek—and then—”Here, during the pause, Bill put out his finger and thumb to snuff the candle, but his hand shook—he snuffed it out, and we were all left in darkness. I can hardly describe the feeling which appeared to pervade the whole of our party. Every one was shuffling and crowding with their shoulders, but still no one moved from his place.“Well,” said Dick, the narrator, in a quiet subdued voice, “why don’t one of you go and fetch a light? Come, jump up, Bill, you topped it out.”“Ay, ay,” replied Bill, evidently shaking; “where’s the candle?”“Here,” said one of the boys, handing it to him.“Well, then, jump up yourself you young whelp, you’re younger than me.”“I didn’t put it out,” replied the boy, whining.“Up immediately, or I’ll break every rib in your body,” replied Bill.The boy, who was terribly frightened, got up at this threat, and began to ascend the ladder; he was about three steps up, when we heard from the deck a horriblemiaw! The boy gave a scream of terror, and fell down on his back among us all, smashing the glass and flattening the tin cans against the men’s legs, who halloed with pain. At last there was a dead silence again, and I could plainly hear the loud throbbing of more than one heart.“Come,” said Dick again, “what was the fool frightened about? Look for the candle, some of you.”At last Bill found it in his breast, broke in two and half melted away, and was proceeding for a light when the carpenter stepped to the hatch with his lantern, and said, “Why, you’re all in the dark there, shipmates! Here, take my lantern.”I may as well here observe that the carpenter had been listening to the story as he sat by the hatchway on deck, and it was he who had favoured us with themiawwhich had so frightened the boy. As soon as the lantern had been received and the candle relighted, Dick re-commenced.“Well, my lads, I said that the captain went down below, brought up his gun, and let fly at the cat, and then—well, and then—the cat gave aloud shriek, and falls down upon the deck. The captain walks forward to it, takes it up by the tail, brings it aft, and shies it among the men.“‘There, you fools,’ said he, ‘it is the cat himself; will you believe your own eyes?’“And sure enough, so it was; for, you see, when Jim tumbled overboard, it being then dark, and we so busy with Jim, we did not look after the cat, and so it must have crawled up the cable and run down into the hold while the hatches were off; and all that noise heard aft must have been the brute chasing the rats, I suppose.—Jim may have heard, but he could not have seen, the cat; that was all fancy and fright. You know how long a cat will live without much food, and so the animal was’ pretty quiet after it had killed all the rats. Then when the gale came on, and the upper part of the cargo fetched way a little, for it was loosely stowed, we suppose that it got jammed now and then with the rolling, and that made it miaw; and then, when we took off the hatches to look at the cargo, after we had sprung the leak, the cat, o’ course, came out, and a pretty skeleton it was, as you may suppose. Now do you understand the whole of it?”“Yes, that’s all clear,” replied Bill; “and it was no ghost, after all? But still the cat did do mischief, for if the mate had not been frightened by it, he wouldn’t have let go the wheel, and the masts would not have gone by the lee.”“That’s true enough, and he might have done more mischief still if the captain had not shot him, for the men would never have gone to the pumps again; but when they found out that it was nothing but the cat himself, then they set to, and before the next evening the vessel was clear, and only required pumping out every two hours, for the leak wasn’t great, after all. So there’s a ghost story for you, and I believe that all others will be found, like mine, to end in moonshine. Now, suppose we turn in, for we shall weigh at three o’clock in the morning.”We all tumbled into the standing berths in the fore-peak; I dreamt of black tom cats all night. The next morning we weighed with a fair wind; as before, I stood beside Bramble, who pointed out to me everything worth notice or memory as we passed, but at last the motion affected me so much that I could pay little attention, and I remained by his side as pale as a sheet. We rounded the North Foreland, and long before dark anchored in the Downs. Bramble went no farther with the vessel, the captain himself being a good pilot for the Channel. A Deal boat came alongside, we got into it, they landed us on the shingle beach, and I followed Bramble up to his abode.

In a quarter of an hour the pump sucked, and we all hastened down below to our grog and the completion of our yarn. As soon as we were all comfortably seated as before, Dick recommenced.

“Well, we were abreast of Malta, when the weather, which had hitherto on the voyage been very fine, changed. The clouds hung down very heavy, and there was every symptom of a fierce gale; and sure enough a worse gale I never was in than came on that night—and such a sea!—the ship rolled gunnel under, for the gale was fair, but the sea ran so high and so fast that we expected to be pooped every minute. It was about midnight when the rain came on in torrents, and the wind blew fiercer than ever. I was on deck, and so was the first mate and another man at the helm, for we were flying right before it, and she was hard to steer.

“‘We shall have it worse yet,’ said the captain.

“‘Miaw!’ was the reply, so clear, so loud, we could not tell where it came from. I thought it came from the main-top.

“‘Mercy on us! what was that?’ said the first mate, the light from the binnacle showing his face as pale as a sheet.

“‘Miaw!’ was the reply from somewhere.

“‘The black cat, by all that’s blue!’ cried the captain.

“‘The Lord have mercy upon us, we’re all gone!’ said the mate, clasping his hands in terror. To clasp his hands, of course he let go the wheel; and the other man, who was equally frightened, had not strength to hold it. Away he went, right over the wheel, knocking down the mate on the other side; and the ship taking a heavy lurch, they both went into the scuppers together. The ship breached-to, and our mainmast and mizenmast went over the side.”

“Do top that glim, Bill,” said one of the men, in a tremulous voice.

Dick paused while the snuff was taken off the candle; and the water went tap, tap, tap against the bends, with a most melancholy sound. I really did feel rather queer myself.

Dick continued. “Well, all hands were on deck immediately, and it was good two hours before we could clear the wreck, for the men were disheartened. They had heard the loudmiawwhen in the fore-peak, and declared that it was close to them; and the passenger and Jim came out, frightened out of their wits. They had heard themiaw, and said that it was from under the cabin table. At last we were clear of the wreck, and the wind roared louder than ever.

“The captain was a stout-hearted fellow, and as the men were collected together under the bulwark, he said, ‘Well, this breeze will shorten our distance, at any rate, and if it holds we shall soon be at Smyrna.’

“‘We shall never see Smyrna!’ replied the second mate, his teeth chattering.

“‘No, never!’ cried the seamen.

“The captain sent Jim down for his rum-bottle, and gave every man a stiff glass of liquor, and that made them feel more comfortable for a time; when there was a sort of lull, and again the loudmiawwas repeated.

“‘There it is!’ cried the men; but they hardly had time to say so, when the ship was pooped with a tremendous sea washing away the stern and quarter boats, and sending all the men swimming forward. So loaded was the ship with water that she stopped, and appeared as if she was settling down. At last she rolled heavy to port and discharged it, and away we went before the wind, faster than ever. Well, there was some talk among the seamen of throwing poor Jim overboard to appease the ghost of the cat, for it was he who had thrown the cat overboard. But the captain heard what the men were saying, and he swore that he would knock the brains out of the first man who laid hold of the boy; and he sent Jim below out of harm’s way. Poor Jim! how bitterly he cried, poor boy, when he heard what was going on.

“Well, it’s a long lane that has no turning, and no gale lasts for ever: the next day it moderated, and the day after the weather was quite fine, and the sea had gone down. We recovered our spirits, the more so as we heard no more of the cat; and having jury-rigged her aft, we steered our course with a light breeze. We were now but a short distance from Smyrna, and hoped to be there by the next day; but the second mate shook his head; he said, ‘The cat has not done with us, for it was ablack tomcat.’

“The fourth day the captain came on deck, and said, ‘I heard a great washing of water in the run last night, as I thought; have you sounded the well lately?’

“‘No,’ replied the first mate, ‘I left that to the carpenter.’

“‘Well, then, ask him.’ Well, the carpenter had not sounded the well, as it appeared; and so he sounded it immediately, and found that we hadsix feet water in the hold.

“‘I knowed we were doomed,’ said the second mate; ‘we’ll never get at port:’ and so thought the men; but the captain said:—

“‘Why, the fact is, my lads, we must have sprung a leak in the gale, and no wonder, beating against the wreck so as we did when the masts went over the side. Come, rig the pumps, and we shall soon clear her. The tom cat has nothing to do with this, at all events.’

“Now, you see, our bottom cargo consisted of two or three tier of crates of crockery, which would not spoil by being wet; but the upper part of the cargo was bales of dry goods and linen; so the captain was very anxious that they should work the pumps before the water got higher: the weather was very fine, the sea smooth, and the wind, although fair, was light. Well, the seamen were terrified, and thought they were lost; they asked for liquor, and refused to work at the pumps; they said it was no use, the ship was doomed. Well, the captain he got very angry; he went down into the cabin, loaded his double-barrelled gun, and swore that he would shoot the first man through the head who refused to work at the pumps. The men knew that he was in earnest, for he was a violent sort of fellow, and so they set to. We didn’t gain much upon her; I thought we did a little, but the men said no. The captain declared that we did gain considerably, but it was supposed that he only said so to encourage the people. Well, the captain ordered the mate to take up the hatches, that they might see the state of the cargo. This was done; the dry goods, as far as we could make out, were not injured, and the men pumped spell and spell until the evening, when the captain gave them a good allowance of grog, and an hour to rest themselves. It was a beautiful moonlight night: the sails were just asleep and no more; but the vessel was heavy, from the water in her, and we dragged slowly along. The captain, who had gone down below with the first mate, came up from the cabin, and said to the men, ‘Now, my lads, we’ll set to again;’ when suddenly there was a loud, melancholymiaw! which terrified us all. We looked from whence the sound appeared to come, and there, on the launch turned over amidship, we beheld the ghost of the black tom cat, so large, so black, with the broad moonlight shining on it; and so thin, it was the skeleton of the cat, only it looked as black as ever; its back was humped up and its tail curved; and, as it stood out in the broad moonlight, it did look twice as big as the original cat, which was the biggest I ever saw. Well, the men actually screamed; they ran aft, upsetting the captain and mate, and rolling over them and hiding their faces, with ‘Lord have mercy on us!’ and ‘God forgive our sins!’ and ‘Oh! we’re lost, we’re lost!’ and every sort of crying and groaning that could be thought of. At last the captain gets up from under them in a great rage and looks forward to see what was the matter, and there he sees the ghost of the tom cat standing just in the same place; and it gave another miserablemiaw! ‘Why,’ cried the captain (who had his grog on board, and was as brave as brass), ‘it is the cussed cat himself. Stop a moment.’ Down he goes to the cabin, reels up the hatchway again with his double-barrelled gun, and lets fly at it”—(here Dick lowered his voice to almost a whisper)—“the cat gave a shriek—and then—”

Here, during the pause, Bill put out his finger and thumb to snuff the candle, but his hand shook—he snuffed it out, and we were all left in darkness. I can hardly describe the feeling which appeared to pervade the whole of our party. Every one was shuffling and crowding with their shoulders, but still no one moved from his place.

“Well,” said Dick, the narrator, in a quiet subdued voice, “why don’t one of you go and fetch a light? Come, jump up, Bill, you topped it out.”

“Ay, ay,” replied Bill, evidently shaking; “where’s the candle?”

“Here,” said one of the boys, handing it to him.

“Well, then, jump up yourself you young whelp, you’re younger than me.”

“I didn’t put it out,” replied the boy, whining.

“Up immediately, or I’ll break every rib in your body,” replied Bill.

The boy, who was terribly frightened, got up at this threat, and began to ascend the ladder; he was about three steps up, when we heard from the deck a horriblemiaw! The boy gave a scream of terror, and fell down on his back among us all, smashing the glass and flattening the tin cans against the men’s legs, who halloed with pain. At last there was a dead silence again, and I could plainly hear the loud throbbing of more than one heart.

“Come,” said Dick again, “what was the fool frightened about? Look for the candle, some of you.”

At last Bill found it in his breast, broke in two and half melted away, and was proceeding for a light when the carpenter stepped to the hatch with his lantern, and said, “Why, you’re all in the dark there, shipmates! Here, take my lantern.”

I may as well here observe that the carpenter had been listening to the story as he sat by the hatchway on deck, and it was he who had favoured us with themiawwhich had so frightened the boy. As soon as the lantern had been received and the candle relighted, Dick re-commenced.

“Well, my lads, I said that the captain went down below, brought up his gun, and let fly at the cat, and then—well, and then—the cat gave aloud shriek, and falls down upon the deck. The captain walks forward to it, takes it up by the tail, brings it aft, and shies it among the men.

“‘There, you fools,’ said he, ‘it is the cat himself; will you believe your own eyes?’

“And sure enough, so it was; for, you see, when Jim tumbled overboard, it being then dark, and we so busy with Jim, we did not look after the cat, and so it must have crawled up the cable and run down into the hold while the hatches were off; and all that noise heard aft must have been the brute chasing the rats, I suppose.—Jim may have heard, but he could not have seen, the cat; that was all fancy and fright. You know how long a cat will live without much food, and so the animal was’ pretty quiet after it had killed all the rats. Then when the gale came on, and the upper part of the cargo fetched way a little, for it was loosely stowed, we suppose that it got jammed now and then with the rolling, and that made it miaw; and then, when we took off the hatches to look at the cargo, after we had sprung the leak, the cat, o’ course, came out, and a pretty skeleton it was, as you may suppose. Now do you understand the whole of it?”

“Yes, that’s all clear,” replied Bill; “and it was no ghost, after all? But still the cat did do mischief, for if the mate had not been frightened by it, he wouldn’t have let go the wheel, and the masts would not have gone by the lee.”

“That’s true enough, and he might have done more mischief still if the captain had not shot him, for the men would never have gone to the pumps again; but when they found out that it was nothing but the cat himself, then they set to, and before the next evening the vessel was clear, and only required pumping out every two hours, for the leak wasn’t great, after all. So there’s a ghost story for you, and I believe that all others will be found, like mine, to end in moonshine. Now, suppose we turn in, for we shall weigh at three o’clock in the morning.”

We all tumbled into the standing berths in the fore-peak; I dreamt of black tom cats all night. The next morning we weighed with a fair wind; as before, I stood beside Bramble, who pointed out to me everything worth notice or memory as we passed, but at last the motion affected me so much that I could pay little attention, and I remained by his side as pale as a sheet. We rounded the North Foreland, and long before dark anchored in the Downs. Bramble went no farther with the vessel, the captain himself being a good pilot for the Channel. A Deal boat came alongside, we got into it, they landed us on the shingle beach, and I followed Bramble up to his abode.

Chapter Twenty Four.Bramble’s method of education proves very effective—he also points out a position in which you may prefer your enemies to your friends.The house of Philip Bramble was situated on the farther side of a road which ran along the shore, just above the shingle beach. It was a large cottage on one floor, the street door entering at once into its only sitting-room. It was furnished as such tenements usually are, with a small dresser and shelves for crockery, and a table and chairs of cherry wood; on the broad mantelpiece, for the fireplace was large, were several brass candlesticks, very bright, ranged with foreign curiosities, and a few shells; half a dozen prints in frames ornamented the walls; and on large nails drove into the panels, wherever a space could be found, were hung coats, P-jackets, and other articles of dress, all ready for the pilot to change whenever he came on shore wet to the skin. Everything was neat and clean; the planks of the floor were white as snow, yet the floor itself was sanded with white sand, and there were one or two square wooden boxes, also filled with sand, for the use of those who smoked. When I add that, opposite to the fireplace, there was a set of drawers of walnut wood, with an escritoire at the top, upon the flat part of which were a few books neatly arranged, and over it an old fashioned looking-glass, divided at the sides near to the frame into sections, I believe that I have given a catalogue of the whole furniture. When I followed Bramble into the room, a little girl of about nine or ten years old ran into his arms, as he stooped down to receive her. She was a pretty child, with a very fair skin and rosy cheeks, her hair and eyes of a very dark brown, almost approaching to black; but she was not, in my opinion, near so pretty as my sister Virginia. As Bramble kissed her, she exclaimed, “Oh, father, I am so glad you are come home! Mrs Maddox has been in bed ever since you left; her leg is very bad indeed.”“Whew!” whistled, Bramble, “I’m sorry to hear that of the old lady; and how have you got on without her assistance?”“Why, don’t you think I’m very tidy, father?” said she, looking round the room.“Yes, Bessy, you are very tidy; and it’s a pleasure to come home to a tidy clean house. Here is a companion for you. I told you he was coming, and you know his name.”“It’s Tom Saunders, isn’t it, father?”“Yes, that’s his name, for want of a better—so I leave you to make friends, while I go up and see the poor old lady.”“You look cold and pale, are you not well?” was the first question of little Bessy.“I’m cold, and not very well,” replied I; “I have not been used to knocking about on board ship.”“Very true; I forgot you had never been at sea before. Come to the fire, then, and sit in father’s big chair.”“I never knew that your father had been married. I thought Peter Anderson said that he was a bachelor.”“And so he is,” replied Bessy. “I’m not his daughter, although I call him father.”“Indeed! then whose daughter are you? and who is the old lady upstairs?”“The old lady upstairs is the widow of the pilot with whom father served his time. Her husband was lost at sea, and she keeps father’s house. Father picked me up at sea, and has taken care of me ever since.”“Then you don’t remember your own parents?”“No, I recollect nothing till I found myself in this house. Father says I’m a Dutchman, because it was a Dutch ship or a Dutch boat which I was taken out of.”“And how long was that ago?”“Nine years ago. I am now, I believe, about ten years old.”Bessy then catechised me relative to my own family, and I had not answered all her questions when Bramble came downstairs.“Bessy, dear, we must have the doctor to look at that leg again. I’m afeard that it will never get well. Missus is too old to shake it off.”“Shall I go now, father?”“Yes, child, go now, for she’s in great pain with it; and Tom, you go with Bessy and take care of her. But, before you go, give me some ’baccy and the odds and ends.”As soon as Bessy had put the tobacco-pipes, some spirits, a rummer and water on the table, and the spittoon at his feet, she put on her bonnet, and off we set to the doctor’s house, about half a mile distant. I was soon on intimate terms with Bessy: there was something so frank and winning about her, such perfect honesty of character, that it was impossible not to like her. We delivered our message, returned home, and, being very tired, I was glad to go to bed. Bessy showed me my room, which was very comfortable, and as soon as I laid my head on the pillow I was fast asleep.I was awakened the next morning by a knocking at the door by little Bessy; it was broad daylight, and I dressed myself and went downstairs, where I found her very busy putting everything in order.“It was I knocked,” said little Bessy; “I thought you would like to come and help me.”“And so I will,” replied I; “what shall I do?”“Oh, there’s plenty to do now that Mrs Maddox is ill, and you and father are come back—almost too much for a little girl like me. Will you go to the pump and fetch the pails full of water, for they are too heavy for me?”I did as she wished. “Anything else, Bessy?” said I.“Oh, yes, plenty. You’re very good-natured, Tom, and I’m so glad you’re come.”Bessy and I were fully employed for nearly an hour in the front room and kitchen, clearing up and cleaning and preparing for breakfast. All was ready before Bramble came down and took a seat in his big chair, close to the breakfast-table.“All ready, father,” said little Bessy, going up to Bramble to be kissed. “Tom has been helping me.”“All’s right,” said Bramble; “bring the book, dear.”Bessy brought a large Bible, and read a chapter aloud, then closed it and put it away.“We can’t always do this, Tom,” observed Bramble, “when we’re knocking about in the Channel; all we can do is to read it when we can. Come now to breakfast.”When we had finished I assisted Bessy to put everything away, and then Bramble said to me, “Anderson tells me you’re a good scholar, Tom; but you must now learn what will be of use to me as well as to you. The first thing you must learn, and which you can do on shore, are the points of the compass, to know them at sight and tell them quickly; for you see it’s of great importance to a pilot to know exactly how a ship’s head is; and the men at the helm, although good seamen and steering well, are not so ready at answering as a pilot wishes, and very often stammer at it—sometimes make mistakes. Now, you see, when I’m piloting a vessel, if you stand at the binnacle, watch the compass, and answer me quickly how the ship’s head is, you’ll be of use to me in a very short time. Go up into my room, and under the bed you will find a compass; bring it down carefully, and I’ll give you a lesson at once.” I brought the compass to him, and Bramble made me write down the whole thirty-two points at full length upon a piece of paper. When I had done so, he told me I must learn them by heart as fast as I could.I studied them the whole of that day; and in the evening, finding myself perfect, I went up to Bramble and repeated them without one mistake.“All’s right,” said Bramble. “Now, Tom, give me the paper; if you know them to-night you ought to know them to-morrow morning. I’ll hear if you do, after breakfast.”I went to bed, was tapped up as before by Bessy, assisted her to clean everything, taking off her hands all the heaviest of the work; indeed, what I have narrated of the first day may be taken as a sample of my life on shore at Deal. After breakfast I repeated the points of the compass correctly.“Well, Tom, you have a good memory, that’s certain; all the better for you, for pilots carry everything in their heads, as you will find out. Now, then, look here.” Bramble took the glass off the top of the compass-box, lifted up the card, and then showed me the needle below, which pointed to the north. He then showed me the north point above, and then the other points, making me repeat them as he put his finger on them. As soon as I understood them, he would put the stem of his pipe to one and ask me which it was. When I was perfect with the points, he explained the half points and quarter points. In two days I had gained them all by heart.“And now,” says he, “we must try you. This iron skewer is the ship’s head, recollect, and I shall stick it into the table. When I do so, you must tell me what point of the compass stands to it, and then that will be the direction of the ship’s head. Do you understand? Practice makes perfect, and you must work at this all the time that you are ashore. When you know the compass well then I’ll teach you something else. Now, then, how’s her head, Tom?”“North-half-west,” said I, after a little time.“Yes, very true; but you see, Tom, that wouldn’t do aboard ship. That’s just the way most of the seamen would puzzle at it. I must have the answer in a moment, and that’s why you must practise.”In the evening, when Bramble was smoking his pipe, I was seated by him, and every minute he would change the place of the iron skewer, with. “How’s her head, Tom?”“We must get your ’prentice papers signed before we go afloat again,” said Bramble, “for they pick up boys as well as men for the King’s service, and you’re a stout boy for your age.”“Were you ever pressed yourself?” inquired I.“No, but I had a narrow chance once, and had not our captain been a smart fellow I and many more would have been serving the King at this present moment.”“Tell me how that was,” said I.“Well, as soon as Bessy has done rattling with the cups and saucers, I will.”“I’ve done now, father,” said Bessy, taking her seat on a stool close to Bramble’s feet.“Well, then, before I passed for pilot, just after the breaking out of the war, I took it into my head to try my chance at privateering. There was plenty to pick up at that time, and some of the Deal men had been very fortunate, so I went on board of a twelve-gun lugger, commanded by Captain Shank, fitted out in the river, with a crew of sixty men. The press was very hot at that time, and our men were kept at the crimps’ houses until all was ready, when we started, and got off clear into the Channel without being overhauled.“We had been out a fortnight, keeping well on the French coast, and had picked up two good prizes, when one morning, as the fog was cleared up with a sharp northerly wind, we found ourselves right under the lee of an English frigate, not a mile from us. There was a bubble of a sea, for the wind had been against the tide previous to its changing, and we were then about six or seven miles from the French coast, just between Boulogne and Cape Grisnez, lying to for the fog to clear away. As soon as we saw the frigate we knew that she would board us, and we were all in a terrible fright.” Here Bramble shifted the skewer and said, “How’s her head, Tom?”I replied, and he proceeded:—“The frigate hoisted her colours, and of course we did the same. She then fired a gun as a signal for us to remain, hove to, and we perceived her boats lowering down. ‘Now, my lads,’ said our captain, ‘if you don’t mind a shot or two, I think I will save you from impressment this time.’ We all declared that we would stand a hundred, rather than be taken on board of a man-of-war. ‘Very well,’ says he, ‘starboard a little, and keep her a little away, so as to let her go through the water; but keep the fore-sheet to windward, so that we may appear only to have fallen off.’ By this plan we gradually increased our distance from the frigate, and got more on her bow. All this while the boat was pulling towards us, rising and tossing on the sea, but still nearing us fast. As she came nearer to us we let the lugger come up in the wind again for a short time, that we might not appear to be dodging away, and then, when the bowman was almost ready to lay in his oar, away we let her go through the water, so that she was left astern again. They could not well perceive this on board of the frigate, although the officer in the boat was very savage, for at one time he had his bow oar in and his boat-hook out. At last the frigate, perceiving that we were apparently slipping away, put her helm up, and fired a shot across our bows. ‘Now’s your time, my boys,’ said the captain; ‘let draw the sheets, the breeze is strong. She must wait to pick up her boat, and that will give us a mile at least.’ Up went the helm, and we made all sail right for the French coast. How’s her head, Tom?”I replied, and Bramble resumed:—“The frigate ran down to her boat, and then rounded to, to hoist it up; the sea was heavy, and she was delayed a minute or two, although, to do them justice, they were very smart on board of her. As soon as the boat was up she made all sail, and came foaming after us, as if she were in as great rage as the captain and those on board of her. Every now and then she yawed to throw a shot at us from her bow-chasers; but that we didn’t mind, as the yawing checked her way, and it’s not easy to hit a low vessel like a lugger in a toppling sea. Well, very soon we were not four miles from the French coast, so we hauled down our English colours and hoisted French. The frigate gained on us very fast, but we continued to steer on, and she in pursuit, until we were within gun-shot of the batteries. What the Frenchmen thought we did not know, at all events they did not fire, and we steered right on as if we were chased, and the frigate followed after us, until we were within a mile and a half of the batteries, when the frigate thought proper to haul her wind; then the battery opened upon her, and we could see that she was hulled more than once, and, as she kept her wind along the shore, the other batteries opened upon her, and she got a good mauling. We saw her shift her fore-topsail yard as soon as she went about again, and we afterwards heard that she had several men hurt, which was a pity.”“And did not the batteries fire uponyou?”“No, for we kept the French colours up, and hove to within a mile of the coast. It was a lee-shore, and there was too much surf and sea for them to send off a boat and ascertain whether we were a French privateer or not; so there we lay till dusk, and then made sail again, and, being so close into the French shore, we picked up a good prize that very night. When the cruise was over, I was satisfied. I got my prize-money, and then, as I knew our own coast well, I passed for pilot, and have served as one ever since. How’s her head, Tom?”“South West, almost.”“South Westalmostwon’t do, Tom. It’s not quite South West, quarter-south; so you must say South West southerly. D’ye understand?”When Bessy knocked at my door the next morning, she cried out, laughing, “How’s her head, Tom?” and those words made me jump up like lightning.

The house of Philip Bramble was situated on the farther side of a road which ran along the shore, just above the shingle beach. It was a large cottage on one floor, the street door entering at once into its only sitting-room. It was furnished as such tenements usually are, with a small dresser and shelves for crockery, and a table and chairs of cherry wood; on the broad mantelpiece, for the fireplace was large, were several brass candlesticks, very bright, ranged with foreign curiosities, and a few shells; half a dozen prints in frames ornamented the walls; and on large nails drove into the panels, wherever a space could be found, were hung coats, P-jackets, and other articles of dress, all ready for the pilot to change whenever he came on shore wet to the skin. Everything was neat and clean; the planks of the floor were white as snow, yet the floor itself was sanded with white sand, and there were one or two square wooden boxes, also filled with sand, for the use of those who smoked. When I add that, opposite to the fireplace, there was a set of drawers of walnut wood, with an escritoire at the top, upon the flat part of which were a few books neatly arranged, and over it an old fashioned looking-glass, divided at the sides near to the frame into sections, I believe that I have given a catalogue of the whole furniture. When I followed Bramble into the room, a little girl of about nine or ten years old ran into his arms, as he stooped down to receive her. She was a pretty child, with a very fair skin and rosy cheeks, her hair and eyes of a very dark brown, almost approaching to black; but she was not, in my opinion, near so pretty as my sister Virginia. As Bramble kissed her, she exclaimed, “Oh, father, I am so glad you are come home! Mrs Maddox has been in bed ever since you left; her leg is very bad indeed.”

“Whew!” whistled, Bramble, “I’m sorry to hear that of the old lady; and how have you got on without her assistance?”

“Why, don’t you think I’m very tidy, father?” said she, looking round the room.

“Yes, Bessy, you are very tidy; and it’s a pleasure to come home to a tidy clean house. Here is a companion for you. I told you he was coming, and you know his name.”

“It’s Tom Saunders, isn’t it, father?”

“Yes, that’s his name, for want of a better—so I leave you to make friends, while I go up and see the poor old lady.”

“You look cold and pale, are you not well?” was the first question of little Bessy.

“I’m cold, and not very well,” replied I; “I have not been used to knocking about on board ship.”

“Very true; I forgot you had never been at sea before. Come to the fire, then, and sit in father’s big chair.”

“I never knew that your father had been married. I thought Peter Anderson said that he was a bachelor.”

“And so he is,” replied Bessy. “I’m not his daughter, although I call him father.”

“Indeed! then whose daughter are you? and who is the old lady upstairs?”

“The old lady upstairs is the widow of the pilot with whom father served his time. Her husband was lost at sea, and she keeps father’s house. Father picked me up at sea, and has taken care of me ever since.”

“Then you don’t remember your own parents?”

“No, I recollect nothing till I found myself in this house. Father says I’m a Dutchman, because it was a Dutch ship or a Dutch boat which I was taken out of.”

“And how long was that ago?”

“Nine years ago. I am now, I believe, about ten years old.”

Bessy then catechised me relative to my own family, and I had not answered all her questions when Bramble came downstairs.

“Bessy, dear, we must have the doctor to look at that leg again. I’m afeard that it will never get well. Missus is too old to shake it off.”

“Shall I go now, father?”

“Yes, child, go now, for she’s in great pain with it; and Tom, you go with Bessy and take care of her. But, before you go, give me some ’baccy and the odds and ends.”

As soon as Bessy had put the tobacco-pipes, some spirits, a rummer and water on the table, and the spittoon at his feet, she put on her bonnet, and off we set to the doctor’s house, about half a mile distant. I was soon on intimate terms with Bessy: there was something so frank and winning about her, such perfect honesty of character, that it was impossible not to like her. We delivered our message, returned home, and, being very tired, I was glad to go to bed. Bessy showed me my room, which was very comfortable, and as soon as I laid my head on the pillow I was fast asleep.

I was awakened the next morning by a knocking at the door by little Bessy; it was broad daylight, and I dressed myself and went downstairs, where I found her very busy putting everything in order.

“It was I knocked,” said little Bessy; “I thought you would like to come and help me.”

“And so I will,” replied I; “what shall I do?”

“Oh, there’s plenty to do now that Mrs Maddox is ill, and you and father are come back—almost too much for a little girl like me. Will you go to the pump and fetch the pails full of water, for they are too heavy for me?”

I did as she wished. “Anything else, Bessy?” said I.

“Oh, yes, plenty. You’re very good-natured, Tom, and I’m so glad you’re come.”

Bessy and I were fully employed for nearly an hour in the front room and kitchen, clearing up and cleaning and preparing for breakfast. All was ready before Bramble came down and took a seat in his big chair, close to the breakfast-table.

“All ready, father,” said little Bessy, going up to Bramble to be kissed. “Tom has been helping me.”

“All’s right,” said Bramble; “bring the book, dear.”

Bessy brought a large Bible, and read a chapter aloud, then closed it and put it away.

“We can’t always do this, Tom,” observed Bramble, “when we’re knocking about in the Channel; all we can do is to read it when we can. Come now to breakfast.”

When we had finished I assisted Bessy to put everything away, and then Bramble said to me, “Anderson tells me you’re a good scholar, Tom; but you must now learn what will be of use to me as well as to you. The first thing you must learn, and which you can do on shore, are the points of the compass, to know them at sight and tell them quickly; for you see it’s of great importance to a pilot to know exactly how a ship’s head is; and the men at the helm, although good seamen and steering well, are not so ready at answering as a pilot wishes, and very often stammer at it—sometimes make mistakes. Now, you see, when I’m piloting a vessel, if you stand at the binnacle, watch the compass, and answer me quickly how the ship’s head is, you’ll be of use to me in a very short time. Go up into my room, and under the bed you will find a compass; bring it down carefully, and I’ll give you a lesson at once.” I brought the compass to him, and Bramble made me write down the whole thirty-two points at full length upon a piece of paper. When I had done so, he told me I must learn them by heart as fast as I could.

I studied them the whole of that day; and in the evening, finding myself perfect, I went up to Bramble and repeated them without one mistake.

“All’s right,” said Bramble. “Now, Tom, give me the paper; if you know them to-night you ought to know them to-morrow morning. I’ll hear if you do, after breakfast.”

I went to bed, was tapped up as before by Bessy, assisted her to clean everything, taking off her hands all the heaviest of the work; indeed, what I have narrated of the first day may be taken as a sample of my life on shore at Deal. After breakfast I repeated the points of the compass correctly.

“Well, Tom, you have a good memory, that’s certain; all the better for you, for pilots carry everything in their heads, as you will find out. Now, then, look here.” Bramble took the glass off the top of the compass-box, lifted up the card, and then showed me the needle below, which pointed to the north. He then showed me the north point above, and then the other points, making me repeat them as he put his finger on them. As soon as I understood them, he would put the stem of his pipe to one and ask me which it was. When I was perfect with the points, he explained the half points and quarter points. In two days I had gained them all by heart.

“And now,” says he, “we must try you. This iron skewer is the ship’s head, recollect, and I shall stick it into the table. When I do so, you must tell me what point of the compass stands to it, and then that will be the direction of the ship’s head. Do you understand? Practice makes perfect, and you must work at this all the time that you are ashore. When you know the compass well then I’ll teach you something else. Now, then, how’s her head, Tom?”

“North-half-west,” said I, after a little time.

“Yes, very true; but you see, Tom, that wouldn’t do aboard ship. That’s just the way most of the seamen would puzzle at it. I must have the answer in a moment, and that’s why you must practise.”

In the evening, when Bramble was smoking his pipe, I was seated by him, and every minute he would change the place of the iron skewer, with. “How’s her head, Tom?”

“We must get your ’prentice papers signed before we go afloat again,” said Bramble, “for they pick up boys as well as men for the King’s service, and you’re a stout boy for your age.”

“Were you ever pressed yourself?” inquired I.

“No, but I had a narrow chance once, and had not our captain been a smart fellow I and many more would have been serving the King at this present moment.”

“Tell me how that was,” said I.

“Well, as soon as Bessy has done rattling with the cups and saucers, I will.”

“I’ve done now, father,” said Bessy, taking her seat on a stool close to Bramble’s feet.

“Well, then, before I passed for pilot, just after the breaking out of the war, I took it into my head to try my chance at privateering. There was plenty to pick up at that time, and some of the Deal men had been very fortunate, so I went on board of a twelve-gun lugger, commanded by Captain Shank, fitted out in the river, with a crew of sixty men. The press was very hot at that time, and our men were kept at the crimps’ houses until all was ready, when we started, and got off clear into the Channel without being overhauled.

“We had been out a fortnight, keeping well on the French coast, and had picked up two good prizes, when one morning, as the fog was cleared up with a sharp northerly wind, we found ourselves right under the lee of an English frigate, not a mile from us. There was a bubble of a sea, for the wind had been against the tide previous to its changing, and we were then about six or seven miles from the French coast, just between Boulogne and Cape Grisnez, lying to for the fog to clear away. As soon as we saw the frigate we knew that she would board us, and we were all in a terrible fright.” Here Bramble shifted the skewer and said, “How’s her head, Tom?”

I replied, and he proceeded:—

“The frigate hoisted her colours, and of course we did the same. She then fired a gun as a signal for us to remain, hove to, and we perceived her boats lowering down. ‘Now, my lads,’ said our captain, ‘if you don’t mind a shot or two, I think I will save you from impressment this time.’ We all declared that we would stand a hundred, rather than be taken on board of a man-of-war. ‘Very well,’ says he, ‘starboard a little, and keep her a little away, so as to let her go through the water; but keep the fore-sheet to windward, so that we may appear only to have fallen off.’ By this plan we gradually increased our distance from the frigate, and got more on her bow. All this while the boat was pulling towards us, rising and tossing on the sea, but still nearing us fast. As she came nearer to us we let the lugger come up in the wind again for a short time, that we might not appear to be dodging away, and then, when the bowman was almost ready to lay in his oar, away we let her go through the water, so that she was left astern again. They could not well perceive this on board of the frigate, although the officer in the boat was very savage, for at one time he had his bow oar in and his boat-hook out. At last the frigate, perceiving that we were apparently slipping away, put her helm up, and fired a shot across our bows. ‘Now’s your time, my boys,’ said the captain; ‘let draw the sheets, the breeze is strong. She must wait to pick up her boat, and that will give us a mile at least.’ Up went the helm, and we made all sail right for the French coast. How’s her head, Tom?”

I replied, and Bramble resumed:—

“The frigate ran down to her boat, and then rounded to, to hoist it up; the sea was heavy, and she was delayed a minute or two, although, to do them justice, they were very smart on board of her. As soon as the boat was up she made all sail, and came foaming after us, as if she were in as great rage as the captain and those on board of her. Every now and then she yawed to throw a shot at us from her bow-chasers; but that we didn’t mind, as the yawing checked her way, and it’s not easy to hit a low vessel like a lugger in a toppling sea. Well, very soon we were not four miles from the French coast, so we hauled down our English colours and hoisted French. The frigate gained on us very fast, but we continued to steer on, and she in pursuit, until we were within gun-shot of the batteries. What the Frenchmen thought we did not know, at all events they did not fire, and we steered right on as if we were chased, and the frigate followed after us, until we were within a mile and a half of the batteries, when the frigate thought proper to haul her wind; then the battery opened upon her, and we could see that she was hulled more than once, and, as she kept her wind along the shore, the other batteries opened upon her, and she got a good mauling. We saw her shift her fore-topsail yard as soon as she went about again, and we afterwards heard that she had several men hurt, which was a pity.”

“And did not the batteries fire uponyou?”

“No, for we kept the French colours up, and hove to within a mile of the coast. It was a lee-shore, and there was too much surf and sea for them to send off a boat and ascertain whether we were a French privateer or not; so there we lay till dusk, and then made sail again, and, being so close into the French shore, we picked up a good prize that very night. When the cruise was over, I was satisfied. I got my prize-money, and then, as I knew our own coast well, I passed for pilot, and have served as one ever since. How’s her head, Tom?”

“South West, almost.”

“South Westalmostwon’t do, Tom. It’s not quite South West, quarter-south; so you must say South West southerly. D’ye understand?”

When Bessy knocked at my door the next morning, she cried out, laughing, “How’s her head, Tom?” and those words made me jump up like lightning.

Chapter Twenty Five.In which Bramble points out to me that singing is part of the profession of a pilot.In about a fortnight from the time that Bramble commenced his tuition, I was quite perfect with the compass; his method certainly was very good, for by such reiterated catechising what you had to learn was graven on your memory. All day long the same system was pursued. Even if dinner was on the table, the compass was on a chair close by, and as I was putting my fork to my mouth, much to Bessy’s amusement, out would come the question, “How’s her head, Tom?” Bramble soon gained his point; I could answer like lightning. But whether I was by the fire indoors, or on the shingle beach, his system was ever the same: every time that Bramble opened his lips I gained some information; he was never wearying, and often very amusing.One morning we were out on the beach—we had been conversing with the other pilots, and examining the vessels in the offing with my glass—when he pointed out to me, it being low neap tide, that the Goodwin Sands were partially dry. “Tom,” continued he, “of all the dangers, not only of the Channel, but in the wide ocean, there is none to be compared with those sands:— the lives that have been lost on them, the vessels that have been wrecked, and the property that has been sucked into them, would be a dozen kings’ ransoms; for, you see, Tom, they are quicksands, and the vessel which goes on shore does not remain to be broken up, but in two tides she disappears, sinking down into the sands, which never give her or her cargo up again. There must be a mighty deal of wealth buried there, that is certain. They say that once they were a flourishing fertile island, belonging to an Earl Godwin, whose name they now bear; it may be so—the sea retreats from one place while it advances at another. Look at Romney Marshes, where so many thousands of sheep are now fed; they run up many miles inland; and yet formerly those very marshes were an arm of the sea, which vessels rode in deep water, and sea-fights, I am told, took place. Howsomever, when the sea took the Godwin island to itself, it made the best trap for vessels that old Neptune now possesses, and he may consider it as the most productive spot in his dominions. Lord help us! what a deal of gold and merchandise must there be buried below you yellow patch!”“Do you never save anything when vessels are run on shore there?”“When they only tail on, we occasionally get them off again; but when once fixed, there’s an end of it. Yes, we save life occasionally, but at great risk of our own. I saved little Bessy from a vessel ashore on these sands.”“Indeed! Pray tell me how it was.”“Why, you see, Tom, it was just at the breaking out of the war. It was in this very month of October, ’93, that I was out in a galley with some others, looking for vessels. I had just then left off privateering, and got my warrant as pilot (for you know I did serve my ’prenticeship before I went a-privateering, as I told you the other night). Well, it was a blowing night, and we were running in for the Downs, intending to beach the galley and sleep on shore, for we had been out five days, and only put a pilot on board of one vessel. We were just to windward of the Sands, out there, where I am now pointing: the sea was very rough, but the night was clear, and the moon shone bright, when we saw a brig running down before the wind, under foresail, and close-reefed topsails. ‘Why, Bill, as she steers she’ll be right between the Calipers,’ said I to the man sitting by me. ‘There’s no mistake about that,’ replied he: ‘let’s haul the fore-sheet to windward, and lay to, to hail him; he’s coming right down upon us.’ Well, we did so, and we hailed some time without any answer. At last a man looked over the gunnel, just as she was flying past us, and told us in Dutch to go to the devil. ‘I think you’ll go there if you don’t look sharp,’ replied Bill. ‘Come, my lads, we may as well follow, her, and see if we cannot prevent mischief.’ So we bore up after her, and hailed her several times, for we sailed very fast, and there was a scuffling on deck: I think that the captain was drunk. All this passed in less than five minutes; and then, as I knew would be the case, she struck on the sands, and with such force that all her masts went over the side immediately. Now, the sea rolls awfully over the shallow water of those sands, Tom. We had kept with her as far as we dared, and then hove-to about two cables’ lengths to windward of her, when she struck, for the ebb was still running strong under our lee, which only made the sea more cross and heavy. The waves made a clean breach over her, and we knew that she would go to pieces in less than half an hour; but we did not like to leave so many to perish without a trial to save them; so we kept away, so as to get abreast of them, and then lowered our sails and got out our oars. We pulled close to them, but it was impossible to board: we should have been stove to pieces and swamped immediately. The moon still shone bright, and we saw them as plain as we could wish,—and we made every attempt to save them, for they were all crowded together forward. Once the sea drove the boat so close that we touched her sides, and then a woman pressed before the men, and reached over the gunnel, extending her arms which held the child, while several others attempted to get in; but the return of the wave carried us back so quick from the vessel, that, as they attempted to jump in, they all went to the water, and never appeared again; but I had caught hold of the child, and laid it down in the stern-sheets. We made a second and third attempt, but in vain. At last the vessel broke up, as it were, all at once—there was one loud cry, and all was still, except the roaring and breaking waves which buried them. It wasn’t a scene to make us very lively, Tom: we hoisted the sail, and ran on to the beach in silence. I took the child in my arms—it had been snatched out of its warm bed, poor thing, and had nothing on but a calico night gown. I took it up to the cottage, which was then Maddox’s (I bought it afterwards of the widow with the money I made a-privateering), and I gave it in charge to Mrs Maddox. I did intend to have sent it to the workhouse, or something of that sort; but Mrs Maddox took a fancy to it, and so did I, and so I thought I would take care of it, and I christened it by the name of Betsy Godwin.”“You have no idea who she may be?”“Not a half one: her cotton gown and cap told nothing; the vessel was Dutch, that’s all I know. She may be the child of the Stadtholder or the child of the ship’s cook. What’s the matter?”“But did you notice any marks upon her person by which she might be reclaimed?”“Not I. I only axed Mrs Maddox whether it were a boy or a girl.”“How old was she then?”“Well, how can I tell? that’s not in my way; but the knowing ones in these matters said that she must be about eighteen months old, so we have taken that for adepartureas to her age. I love her now as if she were my own child, and so will you, Tom, like, a sister, when you know her. She calls me her father, and you may do the same, Tom, if you like, for I will be as good as a father to you, if you are as good a boy as you now seem to be. I like to be called father, somehow or another—it sounds pleasant to my ears. But come in now, I think you have compassed the compass, so you must learn something else.“There is another way, Tom,” said Bramble, as he seated himself in his large chair, “in which a smart ’prentice may be useful to his master, and it is of quite as much importance as the compass, which is in heaving the lead. You see, Tom, the exact soundings being known will often enable a pilot to run over the tail of a bank and save a tide; that is, when he knows that he can trust the man in the chains. Some seamen are very particular in giving exact soundings, but all are not; they care more for the song than they do for anything else, and though the song is very musical, yet it won’t get a ship off when she’s on shore. Now, two-thirds of the seamen who are sent in the chains will not give the soundings within half a fathom, and, moreover, they do not give them quick enough for the pilot in many cases; if, therefore, you learn to heave the lead well, be correct in your soundings and quick in giving them, you will become of great use to me. You understand, don’t you?”“Yes,” replied I.“Well, go up into my room, and hanging on the nail behind the door you will see a lead-line—bring it me down here.”I did so, and then Bramble explained to me how the fathoms were marked on the line, and how the soundings were given out.“You see,” said he, “wherever there is a mark with a piece of leather or bunting, whether it be white or red, it is called a mark; and if you had five fathoms of water, you would cry out by themarkfive; but at the other depths there are no marks, but so many knots tied as there are fathoms, as here at nine; and then you would say by thedeepnine. Now run the line through your hand, and see if you can repeat the marks and deeps as they pass.”I did so.“Very well. Now for the song, for there is a sort of tune to it.” Bramble then again passed the line through his hands, giving the song to each fathom, half-fathom, and quarter-fathom, and making me sing them after him, after which I had to repeat them by myself. The next day he took out the marks and knots from the whole line, and, giving me a two-feet rule to re-measure it, made me put them all in again. This I had to repeat three or four times. By this plan they were fully impressed on my memory; and as for the song, he made me sing it almost every half-hour for three or four days, Bessy generally repeating, in her clear voice, from the back kitchen or upstairs, “and a quarter seven—by the deep nine.”On the fourth day Bramble said, “Well, Tom, I think both you and Bessy may leave off singing now. You have yet to learn the most important part, which is toheavethe lead; but we must wait till we get on board of a vessel for that. Observe, Tom, it’s all very well singing when you’ve plenty of water, and I like it, for it sounds musical and pleasant to the ear; but in shallow water the pilot’s answer must be much shorter and quicker, as you will find out by-and-bye.”

In about a fortnight from the time that Bramble commenced his tuition, I was quite perfect with the compass; his method certainly was very good, for by such reiterated catechising what you had to learn was graven on your memory. All day long the same system was pursued. Even if dinner was on the table, the compass was on a chair close by, and as I was putting my fork to my mouth, much to Bessy’s amusement, out would come the question, “How’s her head, Tom?” Bramble soon gained his point; I could answer like lightning. But whether I was by the fire indoors, or on the shingle beach, his system was ever the same: every time that Bramble opened his lips I gained some information; he was never wearying, and often very amusing.

One morning we were out on the beach—we had been conversing with the other pilots, and examining the vessels in the offing with my glass—when he pointed out to me, it being low neap tide, that the Goodwin Sands were partially dry. “Tom,” continued he, “of all the dangers, not only of the Channel, but in the wide ocean, there is none to be compared with those sands:— the lives that have been lost on them, the vessels that have been wrecked, and the property that has been sucked into them, would be a dozen kings’ ransoms; for, you see, Tom, they are quicksands, and the vessel which goes on shore does not remain to be broken up, but in two tides she disappears, sinking down into the sands, which never give her or her cargo up again. There must be a mighty deal of wealth buried there, that is certain. They say that once they were a flourishing fertile island, belonging to an Earl Godwin, whose name they now bear; it may be so—the sea retreats from one place while it advances at another. Look at Romney Marshes, where so many thousands of sheep are now fed; they run up many miles inland; and yet formerly those very marshes were an arm of the sea, which vessels rode in deep water, and sea-fights, I am told, took place. Howsomever, when the sea took the Godwin island to itself, it made the best trap for vessels that old Neptune now possesses, and he may consider it as the most productive spot in his dominions. Lord help us! what a deal of gold and merchandise must there be buried below you yellow patch!”

“Do you never save anything when vessels are run on shore there?”

“When they only tail on, we occasionally get them off again; but when once fixed, there’s an end of it. Yes, we save life occasionally, but at great risk of our own. I saved little Bessy from a vessel ashore on these sands.”

“Indeed! Pray tell me how it was.”

“Why, you see, Tom, it was just at the breaking out of the war. It was in this very month of October, ’93, that I was out in a galley with some others, looking for vessels. I had just then left off privateering, and got my warrant as pilot (for you know I did serve my ’prenticeship before I went a-privateering, as I told you the other night). Well, it was a blowing night, and we were running in for the Downs, intending to beach the galley and sleep on shore, for we had been out five days, and only put a pilot on board of one vessel. We were just to windward of the Sands, out there, where I am now pointing: the sea was very rough, but the night was clear, and the moon shone bright, when we saw a brig running down before the wind, under foresail, and close-reefed topsails. ‘Why, Bill, as she steers she’ll be right between the Calipers,’ said I to the man sitting by me. ‘There’s no mistake about that,’ replied he: ‘let’s haul the fore-sheet to windward, and lay to, to hail him; he’s coming right down upon us.’ Well, we did so, and we hailed some time without any answer. At last a man looked over the gunnel, just as she was flying past us, and told us in Dutch to go to the devil. ‘I think you’ll go there if you don’t look sharp,’ replied Bill. ‘Come, my lads, we may as well follow, her, and see if we cannot prevent mischief.’ So we bore up after her, and hailed her several times, for we sailed very fast, and there was a scuffling on deck: I think that the captain was drunk. All this passed in less than five minutes; and then, as I knew would be the case, she struck on the sands, and with such force that all her masts went over the side immediately. Now, the sea rolls awfully over the shallow water of those sands, Tom. We had kept with her as far as we dared, and then hove-to about two cables’ lengths to windward of her, when she struck, for the ebb was still running strong under our lee, which only made the sea more cross and heavy. The waves made a clean breach over her, and we knew that she would go to pieces in less than half an hour; but we did not like to leave so many to perish without a trial to save them; so we kept away, so as to get abreast of them, and then lowered our sails and got out our oars. We pulled close to them, but it was impossible to board: we should have been stove to pieces and swamped immediately. The moon still shone bright, and we saw them as plain as we could wish,—and we made every attempt to save them, for they were all crowded together forward. Once the sea drove the boat so close that we touched her sides, and then a woman pressed before the men, and reached over the gunnel, extending her arms which held the child, while several others attempted to get in; but the return of the wave carried us back so quick from the vessel, that, as they attempted to jump in, they all went to the water, and never appeared again; but I had caught hold of the child, and laid it down in the stern-sheets. We made a second and third attempt, but in vain. At last the vessel broke up, as it were, all at once—there was one loud cry, and all was still, except the roaring and breaking waves which buried them. It wasn’t a scene to make us very lively, Tom: we hoisted the sail, and ran on to the beach in silence. I took the child in my arms—it had been snatched out of its warm bed, poor thing, and had nothing on but a calico night gown. I took it up to the cottage, which was then Maddox’s (I bought it afterwards of the widow with the money I made a-privateering), and I gave it in charge to Mrs Maddox. I did intend to have sent it to the workhouse, or something of that sort; but Mrs Maddox took a fancy to it, and so did I, and so I thought I would take care of it, and I christened it by the name of Betsy Godwin.”

“You have no idea who she may be?”

“Not a half one: her cotton gown and cap told nothing; the vessel was Dutch, that’s all I know. She may be the child of the Stadtholder or the child of the ship’s cook. What’s the matter?”

“But did you notice any marks upon her person by which she might be reclaimed?”

“Not I. I only axed Mrs Maddox whether it were a boy or a girl.”

“How old was she then?”

“Well, how can I tell? that’s not in my way; but the knowing ones in these matters said that she must be about eighteen months old, so we have taken that for adepartureas to her age. I love her now as if she were my own child, and so will you, Tom, like, a sister, when you know her. She calls me her father, and you may do the same, Tom, if you like, for I will be as good as a father to you, if you are as good a boy as you now seem to be. I like to be called father, somehow or another—it sounds pleasant to my ears. But come in now, I think you have compassed the compass, so you must learn something else.

“There is another way, Tom,” said Bramble, as he seated himself in his large chair, “in which a smart ’prentice may be useful to his master, and it is of quite as much importance as the compass, which is in heaving the lead. You see, Tom, the exact soundings being known will often enable a pilot to run over the tail of a bank and save a tide; that is, when he knows that he can trust the man in the chains. Some seamen are very particular in giving exact soundings, but all are not; they care more for the song than they do for anything else, and though the song is very musical, yet it won’t get a ship off when she’s on shore. Now, two-thirds of the seamen who are sent in the chains will not give the soundings within half a fathom, and, moreover, they do not give them quick enough for the pilot in many cases; if, therefore, you learn to heave the lead well, be correct in your soundings and quick in giving them, you will become of great use to me. You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes,” replied I.

“Well, go up into my room, and hanging on the nail behind the door you will see a lead-line—bring it me down here.”

I did so, and then Bramble explained to me how the fathoms were marked on the line, and how the soundings were given out.

“You see,” said he, “wherever there is a mark with a piece of leather or bunting, whether it be white or red, it is called a mark; and if you had five fathoms of water, you would cry out by themarkfive; but at the other depths there are no marks, but so many knots tied as there are fathoms, as here at nine; and then you would say by thedeepnine. Now run the line through your hand, and see if you can repeat the marks and deeps as they pass.”

I did so.

“Very well. Now for the song, for there is a sort of tune to it.” Bramble then again passed the line through his hands, giving the song to each fathom, half-fathom, and quarter-fathom, and making me sing them after him, after which I had to repeat them by myself. The next day he took out the marks and knots from the whole line, and, giving me a two-feet rule to re-measure it, made me put them all in again. This I had to repeat three or four times. By this plan they were fully impressed on my memory; and as for the song, he made me sing it almost every half-hour for three or four days, Bessy generally repeating, in her clear voice, from the back kitchen or upstairs, “and a quarter seven—by the deep nine.”

On the fourth day Bramble said, “Well, Tom, I think both you and Bessy may leave off singing now. You have yet to learn the most important part, which is toheavethe lead; but we must wait till we get on board of a vessel for that. Observe, Tom, it’s all very well singing when you’ve plenty of water, and I like it, for it sounds musical and pleasant to the ear; but in shallow water the pilot’s answer must be much shorter and quicker, as you will find out by-and-bye.”

Chapter Twenty Six.In which I go afloat, and obtain some knowledge of the English Channel.It may be as well here to remark that the system of pilotage is different now from what it used to be at the period of which I am writing. The Cinque Port pilots now carry vessels from the Downs to the river, and from the river to the Downs. Their pilotage extends no farther. Vessels seldom require pilots for the Channel, and do not take them unless they are bound to some port in the Channel with which they are unacquainted, and those pilots who ply in the Channel are termed Hoblers; but at the time I refer to, the regular pilots used to go out in their galleys to the chaps of the Channel, and take charge of vessels all the way up, which, by the new regulations, they do not do. The arrangements for pilotage have been much improved of late years, and those employed are better qualified.I had remained at Deal about three weeks when an outward-bound Indiaman anchored in the Downs: her pilot came on shore, and she made the signal for another. It was Bramble’s turn, a galley was launched, and we went on board.The ship was bound to Plymouth, from whence she was to sail with convoy to a certain latitude. The weather was now fine and frosty, and we made sail when the tide served. As soon as we were fairly out in the Channel, Bramble went with me into the main-chains, and showed me how to heave the lead. After several attempts, in which I sometimes would hit the spare topsail-yard upon which I stood, sometimes would nearly break my own head, and once contrived to throw the lead over the hammock-rails in board, I succeeded in getting it round over my head; and when I had once gained that point, I made fewer mistakes. In two days we arrived at Plymouth; and as Bramble kept me at it till my arms ached, nearly half the day, I could by that time heave the lead pretty fairly, that is to say, without danger to myself or other people. The day after we arrived at Plymouth we got into a pilot boat and went out in search of employment, which we soon found, and we continued chiefly taking vessels up to Portsmouth and down to Plymouth, or clear of soundings, for some time. During this time my practice at the lead was incessant, and I became very perfect. When I was not at the lead Bramble would make me stand at the binnacle and watch the compass, so that, by the time we arrived at Deal again, I was pretty competent in those two branches of my art, except that, having practised the lead mostly in deep water, I had not acquired accuracy and expedition in giving the soundings. But I learnt a great deal more of my profession; Bramble explaining to me the sails, rigging, and names and uses of the ropes, and the various manoeuvres practised, all of which he would catechise me in afterwards, to ascertain if I was perfect, and had remembered what he told me. I was, therefore, under excellent tuition. Whatever port we entered Bramble would point out the landmarks to me, state the distances from point to point, and the dangers to be avoided. These I could not so well retain perfectly, and required occasional reminding, but altogether I gave him satisfaction. It was on New Year’s Day, 1800, that we boarded a large homeward-bound Indiaman, which had just struck soundings. She was a thousand ton ship, with a rich cargo of tea on board, and full of passengers, besides more than one hundred invalids from the regiments out there, who had been sent home under the charge of two officers.What a difference there appeared to me to be between the Indiaman going out and this one coming home! the first so neat and clean in her decks, and this so crowded and so weatherworn by her long voyage. What with troops in old jackets, which had once been scarlet, Lascars with their curly black hair, and dark handsome features, yellow men, sickly women, and half-caste children, with their Hindoo Ayahs, tigers, lions, turtles, cows, sheep, goats, and pigs, on the booms and main deck, the vessel was in a strange motley of confusion.As soon as we were put on board, the captain, officers, and passengers crowded round to inquire the news. Bramble, according to pilot custom, had brought off one or two late Plymouth papers (one of which, I recollect, gave the account of the cutting out of the Hermione by Captain Hamilton); but the people on board were eight months behindhand at least as regarded what had passed. They had not even heard of Sir Sydney Smith’s defence of Acre against Bonaparte, or anything else which had subsequently occurred; so that as soon as Bramble had taken charge, and put the ship’s head the right course (for the wind was fair), there was no end to question and answer. And while Bramble was questioned by the captain and passengers, I was attacked by the midshipmen, or guinea-pigs as they are called. Having a fair wind, we ran right for the Downs, where we arrived on the morning of the second day. Here the purser of the ship went on shore with his despatches, and the ship anchored to await orders, by the next post, to go up the river.“Tom,” said Bramble, as the vessel anchored, “I cannot quit the ship, but you may, so just get on shore in one of the boats, and see how little Bessy is, and poor old Mrs Maddox’s leg; and, Tom, take our dirty linen on shore and bring off clean.”I was glad enough to obey his orders, for I was very anxious to see dear little Bessy again; so I dropped into a boat that was going on shore for fresh beef, taking with me two or three little presents for Bessy, out of the many which I had received when on board, for the officers and men were very kind to me, and had given me many things which they did not value, but which I did very much, as they were quite new to me.The custom officers at Deal were not very particular at that time.I was not searched, and arrived at the cottage, where I found Bessy sitting at her needle. She threw down her work and ran to me, and as I kissed her the tears ran down her cheeks.“Where is father, Tom? I’m so glad to see you; but where is father? I’ve been so frightened, the winter has been so rough.”“He’s on board of the Indiaman, but being in charge he cannot come on ashore, so he sent me.”“Oh! I’m so glad. You have been away so long, and we have had nothing but gales of wind; and do you know that Williams and Steers are both drowned?”“No, indeed, we know nothing; but father will be sorry to hear of it, for they were friends of his.”“Well, Tom, it’s not fair to leave a little girl like me alone here, for Mrs Maddox has kept her bed ever since you left. Her leg is better, but she has pains in her limbs, and groans so all night, and here I am left by myself, to hear her groan and the wind roar.”Here Bessy began to cry, and I to console her as well as I could, although I did feel that it was hard that such a child should be left so lonely. The presents I brought her made her wipe away her tears, and she was very soon as lively and joyous as ever.“I heard father say, Bessy” (I always called Bramble my father, as he had said I might), “that he had picked up something this winter, for he has had none but heavy vessels, and you know pilotage is paid by the draught of water.”“Well, he may have made money, but I’m sure we haven’t spent any to matter, for I have hardly been once a week to Mrs Maddox for money since you have gone. She eats hardly anything, and I can’t eat my meals when I’m alone down here. Will father come home after he has been up the river?”“Yes, Bessy, he said that we should take a spell on shore.”“Tom, don’t you think I might go on board and see him for half an hour?”“Yes, I don’t see why not; speak to Mrs Maddox.”Bessy ran upstairs, and came down with the required permission, provided a neighbour’s girl would remain in the house, and that she went under my escort. Her bonnet was soon on, and we obtained a passage in one of the Indiaman’s boats which was shoving off, for the water was quite smooth, and the ship’s boats could lie on the shingle without difficulty. The officer took Bessy under his boat cloak, and we were soon on board. Bramble was not on deck at the time, and when I went down to look for him, Bessy remained on the quarterdeck in admiration of all she saw. But Bramble was not below as I supposed—he had gone into the cuddy with the captain; and when he came out, his first knowledge of Bessy’s being on board was being embraced by the waist with her little arms.“Why, Bessy, my child,” said Bramble, just as I returned on deck. “This is Master Tom’s doing,” continued he, kissing her; “so you have come to see your father?”“Why, you would not come on shore to see me, father,” said Bessy, as Bramble took her up and kissed her again.“Well, Tom, have you brought the clean things?”“No, I must go on shore again with Bessy, father.”“Very true, so you must.”Bessy was taken much notice of by the captain and all on board. No wonder: her fair skin and clear transparent red and white were in such contrast with the bilious-looking passengers that she appeared as if she was not of the same race. She was much admired, and received many little presents; and when she left the ship, after staying on board an hour, she was much delighted with her trip, and still more so with the promise of Bramble that he would stay ashore for some time as soon as he came back from the river. I remained with her on shore till dusk, and then, having collected the clean linen, as we were expected to sail early the next morning, I returned on board the Indiaman.

It may be as well here to remark that the system of pilotage is different now from what it used to be at the period of which I am writing. The Cinque Port pilots now carry vessels from the Downs to the river, and from the river to the Downs. Their pilotage extends no farther. Vessels seldom require pilots for the Channel, and do not take them unless they are bound to some port in the Channel with which they are unacquainted, and those pilots who ply in the Channel are termed Hoblers; but at the time I refer to, the regular pilots used to go out in their galleys to the chaps of the Channel, and take charge of vessels all the way up, which, by the new regulations, they do not do. The arrangements for pilotage have been much improved of late years, and those employed are better qualified.

I had remained at Deal about three weeks when an outward-bound Indiaman anchored in the Downs: her pilot came on shore, and she made the signal for another. It was Bramble’s turn, a galley was launched, and we went on board.

The ship was bound to Plymouth, from whence she was to sail with convoy to a certain latitude. The weather was now fine and frosty, and we made sail when the tide served. As soon as we were fairly out in the Channel, Bramble went with me into the main-chains, and showed me how to heave the lead. After several attempts, in which I sometimes would hit the spare topsail-yard upon which I stood, sometimes would nearly break my own head, and once contrived to throw the lead over the hammock-rails in board, I succeeded in getting it round over my head; and when I had once gained that point, I made fewer mistakes. In two days we arrived at Plymouth; and as Bramble kept me at it till my arms ached, nearly half the day, I could by that time heave the lead pretty fairly, that is to say, without danger to myself or other people. The day after we arrived at Plymouth we got into a pilot boat and went out in search of employment, which we soon found, and we continued chiefly taking vessels up to Portsmouth and down to Plymouth, or clear of soundings, for some time. During this time my practice at the lead was incessant, and I became very perfect. When I was not at the lead Bramble would make me stand at the binnacle and watch the compass, so that, by the time we arrived at Deal again, I was pretty competent in those two branches of my art, except that, having practised the lead mostly in deep water, I had not acquired accuracy and expedition in giving the soundings. But I learnt a great deal more of my profession; Bramble explaining to me the sails, rigging, and names and uses of the ropes, and the various manoeuvres practised, all of which he would catechise me in afterwards, to ascertain if I was perfect, and had remembered what he told me. I was, therefore, under excellent tuition. Whatever port we entered Bramble would point out the landmarks to me, state the distances from point to point, and the dangers to be avoided. These I could not so well retain perfectly, and required occasional reminding, but altogether I gave him satisfaction. It was on New Year’s Day, 1800, that we boarded a large homeward-bound Indiaman, which had just struck soundings. She was a thousand ton ship, with a rich cargo of tea on board, and full of passengers, besides more than one hundred invalids from the regiments out there, who had been sent home under the charge of two officers.

What a difference there appeared to me to be between the Indiaman going out and this one coming home! the first so neat and clean in her decks, and this so crowded and so weatherworn by her long voyage. What with troops in old jackets, which had once been scarlet, Lascars with their curly black hair, and dark handsome features, yellow men, sickly women, and half-caste children, with their Hindoo Ayahs, tigers, lions, turtles, cows, sheep, goats, and pigs, on the booms and main deck, the vessel was in a strange motley of confusion.

As soon as we were put on board, the captain, officers, and passengers crowded round to inquire the news. Bramble, according to pilot custom, had brought off one or two late Plymouth papers (one of which, I recollect, gave the account of the cutting out of the Hermione by Captain Hamilton); but the people on board were eight months behindhand at least as regarded what had passed. They had not even heard of Sir Sydney Smith’s defence of Acre against Bonaparte, or anything else which had subsequently occurred; so that as soon as Bramble had taken charge, and put the ship’s head the right course (for the wind was fair), there was no end to question and answer. And while Bramble was questioned by the captain and passengers, I was attacked by the midshipmen, or guinea-pigs as they are called. Having a fair wind, we ran right for the Downs, where we arrived on the morning of the second day. Here the purser of the ship went on shore with his despatches, and the ship anchored to await orders, by the next post, to go up the river.

“Tom,” said Bramble, as the vessel anchored, “I cannot quit the ship, but you may, so just get on shore in one of the boats, and see how little Bessy is, and poor old Mrs Maddox’s leg; and, Tom, take our dirty linen on shore and bring off clean.”

I was glad enough to obey his orders, for I was very anxious to see dear little Bessy again; so I dropped into a boat that was going on shore for fresh beef, taking with me two or three little presents for Bessy, out of the many which I had received when on board, for the officers and men were very kind to me, and had given me many things which they did not value, but which I did very much, as they were quite new to me.

The custom officers at Deal were not very particular at that time.

I was not searched, and arrived at the cottage, where I found Bessy sitting at her needle. She threw down her work and ran to me, and as I kissed her the tears ran down her cheeks.

“Where is father, Tom? I’m so glad to see you; but where is father? I’ve been so frightened, the winter has been so rough.”

“He’s on board of the Indiaman, but being in charge he cannot come on ashore, so he sent me.”

“Oh! I’m so glad. You have been away so long, and we have had nothing but gales of wind; and do you know that Williams and Steers are both drowned?”

“No, indeed, we know nothing; but father will be sorry to hear of it, for they were friends of his.”

“Well, Tom, it’s not fair to leave a little girl like me alone here, for Mrs Maddox has kept her bed ever since you left. Her leg is better, but she has pains in her limbs, and groans so all night, and here I am left by myself, to hear her groan and the wind roar.”

Here Bessy began to cry, and I to console her as well as I could, although I did feel that it was hard that such a child should be left so lonely. The presents I brought her made her wipe away her tears, and she was very soon as lively and joyous as ever.

“I heard father say, Bessy” (I always called Bramble my father, as he had said I might), “that he had picked up something this winter, for he has had none but heavy vessels, and you know pilotage is paid by the draught of water.”

“Well, he may have made money, but I’m sure we haven’t spent any to matter, for I have hardly been once a week to Mrs Maddox for money since you have gone. She eats hardly anything, and I can’t eat my meals when I’m alone down here. Will father come home after he has been up the river?”

“Yes, Bessy, he said that we should take a spell on shore.”

“Tom, don’t you think I might go on board and see him for half an hour?”

“Yes, I don’t see why not; speak to Mrs Maddox.”

Bessy ran upstairs, and came down with the required permission, provided a neighbour’s girl would remain in the house, and that she went under my escort. Her bonnet was soon on, and we obtained a passage in one of the Indiaman’s boats which was shoving off, for the water was quite smooth, and the ship’s boats could lie on the shingle without difficulty. The officer took Bessy under his boat cloak, and we were soon on board. Bramble was not on deck at the time, and when I went down to look for him, Bessy remained on the quarterdeck in admiration of all she saw. But Bramble was not below as I supposed—he had gone into the cuddy with the captain; and when he came out, his first knowledge of Bessy’s being on board was being embraced by the waist with her little arms.

“Why, Bessy, my child,” said Bramble, just as I returned on deck. “This is Master Tom’s doing,” continued he, kissing her; “so you have come to see your father?”

“Why, you would not come on shore to see me, father,” said Bessy, as Bramble took her up and kissed her again.

“Well, Tom, have you brought the clean things?”

“No, I must go on shore again with Bessy, father.”

“Very true, so you must.”

Bessy was taken much notice of by the captain and all on board. No wonder: her fair skin and clear transparent red and white were in such contrast with the bilious-looking passengers that she appeared as if she was not of the same race. She was much admired, and received many little presents; and when she left the ship, after staying on board an hour, she was much delighted with her trip, and still more so with the promise of Bramble that he would stay ashore for some time as soon as he came back from the river. I remained with her on shore till dusk, and then, having collected the clean linen, as we were expected to sail early the next morning, I returned on board the Indiaman.

Chapter Twenty Seven.Showing the importance on board ship of a rope’s end well applied.The next morning, as we expected, the orders came down for the Indiaman to go round to the river. The wind was fair, but light; we hove up and made sail, stemming the last of the ebb. When the flood made, the wind died away, so that we made but little progress, much to the annoyance of those on board, who were naturally impatient to land after so tedious a voyage. Towards the evening it fell calm, and a fog-bank rose on the horizon to the eastward. There were still two hours of daylight, when, as I was sweeping the horizon with my glass, I discovered the three masts of a vessel with no sails set on them. As she was a long way off I went half-way up the main rigging to have a better view of her, and made her out to be a large lugger. I went down to the poop, where Bramble stood smoking a cheroot with some of the officers of the ship. “Father,” says I, “there’s a large lugger on our beam, with her sails lowered down. I caught her masts with the glass just now.”“Then she’s a French privateer, you may depend upon it,” replied Bramble, “and she means to try to take us by surprise to-night.”The officers went down and reported it to the captain: the glasses were fixed upon her, and there was little doubt as to what she was.“Lucky you discovered her, boy, for we might have been surprised, that’s a fact,” said the captain; “however, now she shall catch a Tartar.”“She’s waiting for the fog, captain,” said Bramble, “which will come rolling down with the shift of wind in about an hour or two, I expect; and then we must allow her another hour to get alongside of us. Depend upon it she has plenty of men, and intends to try to board us in the fog.”Everybody was now on thequi vive; the women were, as usual, frightened; the men passengers looked grave, the Lascars rather unsteady; but we had forty English seamen and a hundred invalid soldiers on board, who could all be depended upon. The guns were loaded and shotted, and the invalid soldiers were mustered; muskets and ammunition handed up; the bayonets fixed, unfixed again; and then they were ordered to remain on the booms with their accoutrements on and their muskets by their sides. The officers still kept their glasses on the lugger, until at last the fog came down and we could see her no more.The officers who commanded the invalids, after a consultation with the captain, at which Bramble assisted, told off their men into two parties, one of them being appointed to assist the seamen with their bayonets in repelling the boarders (should the attempt be made), and the other to fire upon them and into the deck of the vessel when she came alongside. The Lascars were stationed at the guns, in case they might be required; but no great dependence was placed upon their services.By the time that these arrangements had been made, the fog had reached the Indiaman, and we were at the same time taken aback with the easterly breeze which brought it down to us: being near to the land, we put the ship’s head off shore. The wind continued light and the water smooth, but the fog thickened every minute: at last we could hardly see as far as the foremast of the vessel.“He’ll be puzzled to find us, I think,” said the captain.“He’ll find us, never fear,” replied Bramble. “He has calculated the time of the fog reaching us, and he knows that we must lay our head off-shore—to be sure, we might give him the go-by if we bore up and ran back again to the Downs.”“I think I see myself bearing up and running away from a rascally French privateer,” said the captain. “Keep a sharp look-out there forward.”“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the chief officer.Half an hour more passed, and by our calculation the privateer should have been on board of us, but we could see nothing of her, although the fog had cleared up a little. The soldiers were now ordered to load their muskets. I was on the poop with Bramble, when, happening to turn and look aft (the very opposite direction from which the privateer was to be expected), I saw her three lug-sails looming in the mist, just on the quarter, not half a cable’s length from us. I jumped down to where the captain was standing, and said to him, “There she is, sir, close on our lee quarter.” The captain sprang on the poop, saw the vessel, and ordered the men to come aft in silence. The tramp of the soldiers’ feet was scarcely over when the lugger was alongside of us, her masts banging against our main and mizen chains as she rolled with the swell under our lee. The Frenchmen gave a cheer, which told us how very numerous they were: they climbed up the side and into the chains like cats, and in a few seconds all was noise, confusion, and smoke. It was impossible to know what the result was to be for about a minute, when the cheers from our own men announced that the assailants had been beaten back. But hardly had the cheering ceased on our side when another cheer was heard from the lugger, and the attempt to gain our decks was repeated. This time the Frenchmen fought more obstinately than before, and it was nearly five minutes before they were repelled. It was not yet dark (although the fog was thick), and you could make out their countenances pretty clear: a more wild reckless set of fellows I never beheld, and they certainly fought very gallantly, but they were driven back again; and once more were the cheers from the British seamen and soldiers mixed up with the execrations and shouts of the still contending, although retreating, Frenchmen.Just at this period of the conflict I was standing on the poop by Bramble, who had been watching the result, when he said, “Tom, come with me: do you jump into the main chains with a double part of the topsail halyards fall, and when the lugger’s mast strikes against the chains as she rolls into us, pass the tail round it underneath the rigging, and hand the end in to me.”We both leapt off the poop; he gave me the bight of the halyards. I crept out of the port into the chains and passed it round the lugger’s main-mast, as he told me, handing in the bight to him, which he belayed slack to the main-sheet kevel. At the time I perceived a man lying wounded or dead in the main chains, but I paid no attention to him until, as I was about to get on board, he attracted my attention by seizing my leg, and making his teeth meet in the small part of it, above the ankle. I could not help crying out, I was so taken by surprise with the pain; however, I kicked him off, and turning to look at him, I found it was a wounded Frenchman, who, perceiving what I was about, had paid me that compliment. As soon as I was on board I heard the captain say to Bramble, “Well, pilot, he has had enough of it.”“Yes, and he won’t escape, captain, for Tom has got him fast by the masthead, and they dare not climb up to cut themselves adrift. All that you have to do now is to let the soldiers fire on his decks until they run below, and then our men can board and take possession of her.”The captain, perceiving that the vessel was made fast, gave the necessary orders. The soldiers lined the hammock nettings and chains, and such a shower of musketry was poured into her decks that the Frenchmen were soon driven below, and our seamen then slipped down her rigging, boarded, and took possession of her. The prisoners having been ordered up and passed into the forehold, the wounded men were then looked after. We had eleven wounded, but none killed; the Frenchman had eight killed and seventeen wounded; among others, the captain, who had headed the second attempt to board. She was called thePucelle d’Orleans, of twelve guns and a hundred and twenty-five men.It was two or three hours before we were again aft to rights, and a party sent on board of the prize; and then there was again another kind of confusion, from the congratulations, drinking healths, the women coming up on deck, etcetera; however, the weather continued light, so it was of no consequence. That Frenchman bit very hard, and I limped for three or four days afterwards.“Well, Tom,” said Bramble, “I see you’ve got nerve, so all’s right. You had better go and lie down now, for you must be tired; I’ll call you in the morning.”Very glad was I to limp to bed. All night I dreamt of nothing but volleys of musketry, and boarding and reboarding, and being wounded in the leg, and then I would awake with the smart of the Frenchman’s teeth.The next morning when I came on deck, the captain thanked me for my services, and said that the lugger would have escaped had it not been for me. I replied that it was Bramble who prevented her escape, as I should not have thought of making her fast if I had not been told.“That’s all true enough,” replied the captain; “but how many of your age, having been told to do it, would have done it, Tom? I shall not forget you.”I went on the poop to Bramble, who, as usual, had his short pipe in his hand; and I certainly was pleased when I saw what a beautiful craft we had helped to capture. She sat like a swan on the water, and sailed round and round us with the greatest ease.In the afternoon we anchored at the Nore, and sent away all the prisoners to Sheerness. I must not forget to say how very kind and generous the passengers were to me. They made a great many presents, some of value, as I afterwards found out; and I was glad to receive them that I might give them to Virginia and those who had been friendly to me.The next morning we arrived off Greenwich, and Bramble told me to go on shore and remain with my father and mother until he came down, which he would do in a few days, and pay a visit to his old friend Anderson. I landed with all my contraband articles in the boat, but no one thought of stopping or searching the former “Poor Jack.” My insignificance was my protection; and I arrived safely at Fisher’s Alley with all my curiosities and prohibited effects. When I entered the house, I perceived that there was a third person sitting in company with my mother and Virginia; but Virginia sprang to me, and I threw down my bundles with which I was loaded, and pressed her in my arms. Although I had been absent but four months, she appeared to be very much grown, and in every way improved. As soon as I had released her, I offered my hand to my mother, who took it very coldly, and then observed, “Tom, you will besoungenteel; don’t you see there is a gentleman here?”“I beg his pardon, mother,” replied I; “but I could only see my sister just then.”“And I admire your feeling, Tom,” replied the party. “Mrs Saunders, you must not scold him for that. How do you do, Tom, and how do you like your profession?” continued he, holding out his hand.I took his hand, and looking at him I recognised him. “Oh, sir! you are the gentleman who was sitting in the room when we called upon Sir Hercules and her ladyship.”“I am so, Tom, and I promised Sir Hercules that I would have an eye to you all, and be of any use to you that I could. My name is Wilson, and I’m what the sailors call a shark, that is, I’m a lawyer.”“Well, you don’t appear as if you would bite, sir,” replied I, as I looked at his venerable and kind face.“No, no, we never frighten people by our looks. We don’t carry our teeth with us; but I have several rows of them, all upon shelves in my chambers, called the ‘Statutes at Large,’ and by other names.”He then entered into conversation with me, and I told him most of what had passed, of course not forgetting that the Indiaman we had brought up the river had captured a privateer. He sat about an hour, and then went away, desiring me to call upon him. I was not sorry when he went, as I wished to show my presents to Virginia, and give her those which she liked best. When Virginia had selected for herself, or rather I had forced upon her all she most admired, I gave a cut ivory card-case, a filigree needle-case, and a small red scarf to my mother, who, for the first time in her life, appeared pleased with me, and said that they were verygenteel, and she was much obliged to me. The remainder I put away in my room upstairs, intending to keep some for Bessy, and give the others to Mrs St. Felix, the doctor, and old Nanny.I then went to the hospital and found out my father, old Anderson, and Ben. I narrated to them much more circumstantially than I did to the old lawyer the particulars of the capture of the privateer. Anderson put a great many inquiries to me, as to my liking my profession, and also concerning little Bessy, whose history I communicated to him. After my father and Ben had left, he gave me a great deal of advice, all of which I trust that I treasured up.“I hear,” said he, “that Spicer has been talking a good deal about you, and inquiring very often when you were expected to return. Were you very intimate with that man?”I replied in the negative, and then narrated the whole history of the spy-glass, the erasure of the name by Mrs St. Felix, and the recognition of it by Spicer.“You did right to leave him in his error relative to where you received the glass from,” said Peter Anderson; “there is some mystery there which time may unravel, but do not say a word of it to any one, Tom. I am glad that you have told me, as in case you are away, and anything should occur, I shall know how to act.”I must acknowledge that I now walked proudly through the streets of Greenwich. I was no longer Poor Jack, but I was earning my livelihood in my profession. I had reason to be still prouder when, two days afterwards, Mr Wilson came to my mother’s with the newspaper in his hand in which there was a long account of the capture of the privateer, and the conduct of Bramble and of me spoken of in the highest terms. This he read aloud to my mother and Virginia. I watched my sister. The tears filled her eyes as she listened, and when Mr Wilson had done, her arms were round my neck, and her smiles were mixed with her tears, and sometimes she would laugh as she cried. Oh! how I loved her then, for I felt how dearly she loved me; even my mother appeared gratified, although she said nothing, but continued to repair the lace veil upon which she had been employed. That evening I went with Virginia to call upon Mrs St. Felix, taking with me the presents I had laid aside for her. She welcomed me as usual, and accepted what I brought for her without hesitation and with many thanks.“Well, Mr Tom,” said she, “I’ll just put away all your nice little remembrances, and then I’ll tell you that I’ve heard all about your behaviour in the fight with the privateer, and I’ve no doubt but that, if you continue to go on as you’ve begun, you will one day have a leg the less, as your father has before you.”“I hope not,” replied I; “two legs are better than one.”“Yes, when you want to run away, that’s true. I see now why you’re so anxious to save your legs.”“But, Mrs St. Felix, if it had not been for that good spy-glass you gave me, I never should have discovered the privateer, and we should not have been prepared for her.”“Well, that’s fortunate; it didn’t prove a glass too much, anyhow, or you’d have seen double. I suppose, then, all these pretty things are my share of the prize-money.”“No, they are no value, except to prove to you that Poor Jack has not forgotten your kindness, and never will.”“That I believe; and believing that, I suppose you have not forgotten old Nanny.”“No; but I have not seen her yet. I intend to go to-morrow; but I have something for the doctor. He is not at home, will you give it to him?”“Certainly: you know I am as good as a mother to him.”“I think the doctor would rather you’d be a wife to him.”“That’s a foolish idea that’s in many people’s heads, Tom, which I’ll thank you to contradict. I never intend to change my name.”“Don’t make too sure,” replied I; and I added at a venture (why, I know not, but I had formed the idea in my mind that St. Felix was not her proper name), “you may change it yet for your real name.”“Tom, Tom,” cried the widow, “what do you mean?”“Nothing,” replied I, “I was only joking.”“Well then, don’t talk such nonsense, or I shall send you out of the shop.”I had, however, it appeared, struck upon a chord which jarred, and all the spirits of Mrs St. Felix vanished at once. So Virginia and I wished her a good evening, and returned home.

The next morning, as we expected, the orders came down for the Indiaman to go round to the river. The wind was fair, but light; we hove up and made sail, stemming the last of the ebb. When the flood made, the wind died away, so that we made but little progress, much to the annoyance of those on board, who were naturally impatient to land after so tedious a voyage. Towards the evening it fell calm, and a fog-bank rose on the horizon to the eastward. There were still two hours of daylight, when, as I was sweeping the horizon with my glass, I discovered the three masts of a vessel with no sails set on them. As she was a long way off I went half-way up the main rigging to have a better view of her, and made her out to be a large lugger. I went down to the poop, where Bramble stood smoking a cheroot with some of the officers of the ship. “Father,” says I, “there’s a large lugger on our beam, with her sails lowered down. I caught her masts with the glass just now.”

“Then she’s a French privateer, you may depend upon it,” replied Bramble, “and she means to try to take us by surprise to-night.”

The officers went down and reported it to the captain: the glasses were fixed upon her, and there was little doubt as to what she was.

“Lucky you discovered her, boy, for we might have been surprised, that’s a fact,” said the captain; “however, now she shall catch a Tartar.”

“She’s waiting for the fog, captain,” said Bramble, “which will come rolling down with the shift of wind in about an hour or two, I expect; and then we must allow her another hour to get alongside of us. Depend upon it she has plenty of men, and intends to try to board us in the fog.”

Everybody was now on thequi vive; the women were, as usual, frightened; the men passengers looked grave, the Lascars rather unsteady; but we had forty English seamen and a hundred invalid soldiers on board, who could all be depended upon. The guns were loaded and shotted, and the invalid soldiers were mustered; muskets and ammunition handed up; the bayonets fixed, unfixed again; and then they were ordered to remain on the booms with their accoutrements on and their muskets by their sides. The officers still kept their glasses on the lugger, until at last the fog came down and we could see her no more.

The officers who commanded the invalids, after a consultation with the captain, at which Bramble assisted, told off their men into two parties, one of them being appointed to assist the seamen with their bayonets in repelling the boarders (should the attempt be made), and the other to fire upon them and into the deck of the vessel when she came alongside. The Lascars were stationed at the guns, in case they might be required; but no great dependence was placed upon their services.

By the time that these arrangements had been made, the fog had reached the Indiaman, and we were at the same time taken aback with the easterly breeze which brought it down to us: being near to the land, we put the ship’s head off shore. The wind continued light and the water smooth, but the fog thickened every minute: at last we could hardly see as far as the foremast of the vessel.

“He’ll be puzzled to find us, I think,” said the captain.

“He’ll find us, never fear,” replied Bramble. “He has calculated the time of the fog reaching us, and he knows that we must lay our head off-shore—to be sure, we might give him the go-by if we bore up and ran back again to the Downs.”

“I think I see myself bearing up and running away from a rascally French privateer,” said the captain. “Keep a sharp look-out there forward.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the chief officer.

Half an hour more passed, and by our calculation the privateer should have been on board of us, but we could see nothing of her, although the fog had cleared up a little. The soldiers were now ordered to load their muskets. I was on the poop with Bramble, when, happening to turn and look aft (the very opposite direction from which the privateer was to be expected), I saw her three lug-sails looming in the mist, just on the quarter, not half a cable’s length from us. I jumped down to where the captain was standing, and said to him, “There she is, sir, close on our lee quarter.” The captain sprang on the poop, saw the vessel, and ordered the men to come aft in silence. The tramp of the soldiers’ feet was scarcely over when the lugger was alongside of us, her masts banging against our main and mizen chains as she rolled with the swell under our lee. The Frenchmen gave a cheer, which told us how very numerous they were: they climbed up the side and into the chains like cats, and in a few seconds all was noise, confusion, and smoke. It was impossible to know what the result was to be for about a minute, when the cheers from our own men announced that the assailants had been beaten back. But hardly had the cheering ceased on our side when another cheer was heard from the lugger, and the attempt to gain our decks was repeated. This time the Frenchmen fought more obstinately than before, and it was nearly five minutes before they were repelled. It was not yet dark (although the fog was thick), and you could make out their countenances pretty clear: a more wild reckless set of fellows I never beheld, and they certainly fought very gallantly, but they were driven back again; and once more were the cheers from the British seamen and soldiers mixed up with the execrations and shouts of the still contending, although retreating, Frenchmen.

Just at this period of the conflict I was standing on the poop by Bramble, who had been watching the result, when he said, “Tom, come with me: do you jump into the main chains with a double part of the topsail halyards fall, and when the lugger’s mast strikes against the chains as she rolls into us, pass the tail round it underneath the rigging, and hand the end in to me.”

We both leapt off the poop; he gave me the bight of the halyards. I crept out of the port into the chains and passed it round the lugger’s main-mast, as he told me, handing in the bight to him, which he belayed slack to the main-sheet kevel. At the time I perceived a man lying wounded or dead in the main chains, but I paid no attention to him until, as I was about to get on board, he attracted my attention by seizing my leg, and making his teeth meet in the small part of it, above the ankle. I could not help crying out, I was so taken by surprise with the pain; however, I kicked him off, and turning to look at him, I found it was a wounded Frenchman, who, perceiving what I was about, had paid me that compliment. As soon as I was on board I heard the captain say to Bramble, “Well, pilot, he has had enough of it.”

“Yes, and he won’t escape, captain, for Tom has got him fast by the masthead, and they dare not climb up to cut themselves adrift. All that you have to do now is to let the soldiers fire on his decks until they run below, and then our men can board and take possession of her.”

The captain, perceiving that the vessel was made fast, gave the necessary orders. The soldiers lined the hammock nettings and chains, and such a shower of musketry was poured into her decks that the Frenchmen were soon driven below, and our seamen then slipped down her rigging, boarded, and took possession of her. The prisoners having been ordered up and passed into the forehold, the wounded men were then looked after. We had eleven wounded, but none killed; the Frenchman had eight killed and seventeen wounded; among others, the captain, who had headed the second attempt to board. She was called thePucelle d’Orleans, of twelve guns and a hundred and twenty-five men.

It was two or three hours before we were again aft to rights, and a party sent on board of the prize; and then there was again another kind of confusion, from the congratulations, drinking healths, the women coming up on deck, etcetera; however, the weather continued light, so it was of no consequence. That Frenchman bit very hard, and I limped for three or four days afterwards.

“Well, Tom,” said Bramble, “I see you’ve got nerve, so all’s right. You had better go and lie down now, for you must be tired; I’ll call you in the morning.”

Very glad was I to limp to bed. All night I dreamt of nothing but volleys of musketry, and boarding and reboarding, and being wounded in the leg, and then I would awake with the smart of the Frenchman’s teeth.

The next morning when I came on deck, the captain thanked me for my services, and said that the lugger would have escaped had it not been for me. I replied that it was Bramble who prevented her escape, as I should not have thought of making her fast if I had not been told.

“That’s all true enough,” replied the captain; “but how many of your age, having been told to do it, would have done it, Tom? I shall not forget you.”

I went on the poop to Bramble, who, as usual, had his short pipe in his hand; and I certainly was pleased when I saw what a beautiful craft we had helped to capture. She sat like a swan on the water, and sailed round and round us with the greatest ease.

In the afternoon we anchored at the Nore, and sent away all the prisoners to Sheerness. I must not forget to say how very kind and generous the passengers were to me. They made a great many presents, some of value, as I afterwards found out; and I was glad to receive them that I might give them to Virginia and those who had been friendly to me.

The next morning we arrived off Greenwich, and Bramble told me to go on shore and remain with my father and mother until he came down, which he would do in a few days, and pay a visit to his old friend Anderson. I landed with all my contraband articles in the boat, but no one thought of stopping or searching the former “Poor Jack.” My insignificance was my protection; and I arrived safely at Fisher’s Alley with all my curiosities and prohibited effects. When I entered the house, I perceived that there was a third person sitting in company with my mother and Virginia; but Virginia sprang to me, and I threw down my bundles with which I was loaded, and pressed her in my arms. Although I had been absent but four months, she appeared to be very much grown, and in every way improved. As soon as I had released her, I offered my hand to my mother, who took it very coldly, and then observed, “Tom, you will besoungenteel; don’t you see there is a gentleman here?”

“I beg his pardon, mother,” replied I; “but I could only see my sister just then.”

“And I admire your feeling, Tom,” replied the party. “Mrs Saunders, you must not scold him for that. How do you do, Tom, and how do you like your profession?” continued he, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and looking at him I recognised him. “Oh, sir! you are the gentleman who was sitting in the room when we called upon Sir Hercules and her ladyship.”

“I am so, Tom, and I promised Sir Hercules that I would have an eye to you all, and be of any use to you that I could. My name is Wilson, and I’m what the sailors call a shark, that is, I’m a lawyer.”

“Well, you don’t appear as if you would bite, sir,” replied I, as I looked at his venerable and kind face.

“No, no, we never frighten people by our looks. We don’t carry our teeth with us; but I have several rows of them, all upon shelves in my chambers, called the ‘Statutes at Large,’ and by other names.”

He then entered into conversation with me, and I told him most of what had passed, of course not forgetting that the Indiaman we had brought up the river had captured a privateer. He sat about an hour, and then went away, desiring me to call upon him. I was not sorry when he went, as I wished to show my presents to Virginia, and give her those which she liked best. When Virginia had selected for herself, or rather I had forced upon her all she most admired, I gave a cut ivory card-case, a filigree needle-case, and a small red scarf to my mother, who, for the first time in her life, appeared pleased with me, and said that they were verygenteel, and she was much obliged to me. The remainder I put away in my room upstairs, intending to keep some for Bessy, and give the others to Mrs St. Felix, the doctor, and old Nanny.

I then went to the hospital and found out my father, old Anderson, and Ben. I narrated to them much more circumstantially than I did to the old lawyer the particulars of the capture of the privateer. Anderson put a great many inquiries to me, as to my liking my profession, and also concerning little Bessy, whose history I communicated to him. After my father and Ben had left, he gave me a great deal of advice, all of which I trust that I treasured up.

“I hear,” said he, “that Spicer has been talking a good deal about you, and inquiring very often when you were expected to return. Were you very intimate with that man?”

I replied in the negative, and then narrated the whole history of the spy-glass, the erasure of the name by Mrs St. Felix, and the recognition of it by Spicer.

“You did right to leave him in his error relative to where you received the glass from,” said Peter Anderson; “there is some mystery there which time may unravel, but do not say a word of it to any one, Tom. I am glad that you have told me, as in case you are away, and anything should occur, I shall know how to act.”

I must acknowledge that I now walked proudly through the streets of Greenwich. I was no longer Poor Jack, but I was earning my livelihood in my profession. I had reason to be still prouder when, two days afterwards, Mr Wilson came to my mother’s with the newspaper in his hand in which there was a long account of the capture of the privateer, and the conduct of Bramble and of me spoken of in the highest terms. This he read aloud to my mother and Virginia. I watched my sister. The tears filled her eyes as she listened, and when Mr Wilson had done, her arms were round my neck, and her smiles were mixed with her tears, and sometimes she would laugh as she cried. Oh! how I loved her then, for I felt how dearly she loved me; even my mother appeared gratified, although she said nothing, but continued to repair the lace veil upon which she had been employed. That evening I went with Virginia to call upon Mrs St. Felix, taking with me the presents I had laid aside for her. She welcomed me as usual, and accepted what I brought for her without hesitation and with many thanks.

“Well, Mr Tom,” said she, “I’ll just put away all your nice little remembrances, and then I’ll tell you that I’ve heard all about your behaviour in the fight with the privateer, and I’ve no doubt but that, if you continue to go on as you’ve begun, you will one day have a leg the less, as your father has before you.”

“I hope not,” replied I; “two legs are better than one.”

“Yes, when you want to run away, that’s true. I see now why you’re so anxious to save your legs.”

“But, Mrs St. Felix, if it had not been for that good spy-glass you gave me, I never should have discovered the privateer, and we should not have been prepared for her.”

“Well, that’s fortunate; it didn’t prove a glass too much, anyhow, or you’d have seen double. I suppose, then, all these pretty things are my share of the prize-money.”

“No, they are no value, except to prove to you that Poor Jack has not forgotten your kindness, and never will.”

“That I believe; and believing that, I suppose you have not forgotten old Nanny.”

“No; but I have not seen her yet. I intend to go to-morrow; but I have something for the doctor. He is not at home, will you give it to him?”

“Certainly: you know I am as good as a mother to him.”

“I think the doctor would rather you’d be a wife to him.”

“That’s a foolish idea that’s in many people’s heads, Tom, which I’ll thank you to contradict. I never intend to change my name.”

“Don’t make too sure,” replied I; and I added at a venture (why, I know not, but I had formed the idea in my mind that St. Felix was not her proper name), “you may change it yet for your real name.”

“Tom, Tom,” cried the widow, “what do you mean?”

“Nothing,” replied I, “I was only joking.”

“Well then, don’t talk such nonsense, or I shall send you out of the shop.”

I had, however, it appeared, struck upon a chord which jarred, and all the spirits of Mrs St. Felix vanished at once. So Virginia and I wished her a good evening, and returned home.

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