Chapter Two.

Chapter Two.Madam Pauline, aided by Alice and several active-fingered maidens, laboured without cessation for several hours till they had prepared Roger’s kit as far as circumstances would allow. The Colonel had retired to his chamber, and Mr Willoughby had seen Master Handscombe to one which had been prepared for him. Roger and Stephen had fallen asleep in spite of their intention of sitting up all night to be ready for the morning, when suddenly a strong blast, which found its way through the window, blew out two of the lamps at which the maidens had been working. Madam Pauline ordered them to run and shut it. Scarcely had this been done, when another blast, sweeping round the house, shook it almost to its foundation, setting all the windows and doors rattling and creaking. Even Stephen and Roger were at length awakened. The wind howled and whistled and shrieked among the surrounding trees, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed, the rain came down in torrents.“Which way does the wind blow, think you?” asked Roger in an anxious tone.“From the south-west, I fear,” answered Stephen. “And if so, Captain Benbow will have reason to wish that he had got a good offing from the shore before it came on.”“Surely she’s a stout craft, and will stand a worse gale than this,” answered Roger.“I do not know what you would call a worse gale than this,” said Stephen. “It makes the house rock, and I should not be surprised to find many an old elm torn up by the roots.”“I wish that I had been on board to assist our brave friend and his crew,” said Roger.“You may have reason to be thankful that you are safe on shore,” remarked Stephen. “Such a gale as this is sufficient to drive even a stouter ship than theBenbowfrigate from her anchors; but we must wait patiently till the morning to ascertain the truth.”“Why should that be?” exclaimed Roger. “I am not afraid of the wind, and can find my way if it were twice as dark as it is.—Come along.”Stephen, however, who was not inclined to expose himself to the inclemency of the weather, proposed that they should wait till the morning.“No, no,” said Roger, rising and putting on his clothes; “if we are to be of any use we should go at once.”“Certainly, if such is the case,” said Stephen, also rising. “But I am afraid that we can render no assistance to the stout frigate if she is in peril.”“Let us go and see about it, at all events,” said Roger, who had finished dressing.They put on their thick overcoats; fortunately Stephen had left his some days before at the manor-house. They had hitherto awakened no one, and had just reached the side-door when they saw a light coming along the passage.“Who goes there?” asked a voice, which they recognised as that of Mr Willoughby. “Whither are you going, lads, on such a night as this?” he inquired.“We are greatly afraid that some misadventure may have befallen theBenbowfrigate, and are going to see, father. You will not say us no, I hope?”Mr Willoughby hesitated, but Roger pressed the point, and finally obtained leave, his father assisting them to close the door, to do which required no small amount of exertion. So great was the darkness, in spite of Roger’s knowledge of the road and the lantern he carried, the lads could not at times clearly see their way. The wind blew in their faces the branches waved to and fro, the tall trees bent, while ever and anon down came the rain in huge drops battering against them. Still they struggled on. Crossing the downs, they had still to make greater exertions, or further progress would have been impossible, but they were not to be daunted.“We must take care that we do not go suddenly over the edge of the cliff,” said Stephen, who was always cautious. “Even with the light of the lantern it is difficult to distinguish it.”“I shall see it clearly enough when we get there,” said Roger. “But I propose that we first visit Ben Rullock’s cottage, and get him and his boy to help us; he will know whereabouts the ship lies.”“But you do not think we can go off to the ship in his boat?” remarked Stephen.“No; my fear is that the ship may be driven in close to the shore, and that her crew may be unable to escape from her,” said Roger.He, knowing the locality well, even in the darkness, managed to hit the path which led down to the old fisherman’s cottage; he and his companion, however, had to walk cautiously, for it was narrow and winding, and a false step might have sent them over the cliff.On reaching the door they knocked loudly.“Ben Rullock, turn out! turn out! there is a ship in danger!” shouted Roger. But the dashing of the breakers on the shore, and the howling of the wind, produced so wild an uproar that his voice was not heard. Again and again he and Stephen shouted and knocked louder and louder.“Who’s there wanting me at this hour of the morning?” they at length heard a voice from within exclaim. Roger repeated what he had before said, and at length old Ben came to the door with a candle, which was immediately blown out.“A ship in danger, young master!” he exclaimed. “I have not heard her guns firing, or other signal of distress, and my ears are pretty sharp, even when I am asleep.”“We are anxious about theBenbowfrigate, as we are afraid that she may have been driven on shore.”“Her captain knows too well what he is about to allow her to do that,” answered old Ben. “He had not been aboard yesterday evening two minutes before he got under weigh, and must have gained a good offing before the gale came on.”“I heartily hope that such may be the case,” observed Stephen.“I am afraid that if he got under weigh he will not be coming back,” said Roger.“We shall soon know,” observed Ben. “Dawn is just breaking, and it will be daylight ere long.—Come in, young gentlemen, and in the meantime, for you are wet through, I will rouse up young Toby, and we will have a fire lighted to dry your wet duds.”The lads were glad enough to accept old Ben’s invitation, for though they had strained their eyes to the utmost no sign could they discover of theBenbowfrigate, but they fancied that the darkness, which is generally the greatest an hour before dawn, had concealed her from their sight. Toby, who turned out on being called, quickly lighted a fire with the driftwood, of which there was generally an abundant supply on the beach, and they sat before it for some time drying their wet clothes, its bright light preventing them from seeing how rapidly the dawn was advancing. At length Roger starting up exclaimed, “Why, it is nearly broad daylight: we shall be well able to see the ship where she lay at anchor.”“I doubt if you will see her there or anywhere else,” said old Ben, as he accompanied Roger and Stephen, who eagerly ran out of the cottage.Though the rain had ceased, the gale was blowing as hard as ever, while the spray which rose from the breakers dashing on the shore beneath their feet filled the air as they reached a point where, by shading their eyes with their hands, they could obtain a view over the whole bay. They eagerly looked out, but nowhere was theBenbowfrigate to be seen. Ben’s information was correct.It was evident that Captain Benbow, on perceiving the approach of bad weather, had immediately got under weigh to gain a good offing. In vain the lads gazed along the whole line of the horizon extending from the Bill of Portland to the Start—not a sail was visible.“Maybe she’s run in for shelter on the other side of Portland, or, still more likely, has stood on through the Needle passage to bring up inside the Isle of Wight,” observed Ben. “She will not be coming back here, you may depend on?”As there was nothing more to be done, Roger, greatly disappointed, returned with Stephen to the manor-house. He was very glad to find that the ship had escaped, but he was afraid that it might be long before she would return, and his hopes of going to sea on board her would be realised.The gale lasted scarcely the usual three days, when the weather became as fine as before, and Roger paid many a visit to the shore in the hopes of seeing theBenbowfrigate coming once more to an anchorage. Though many ships passed by, they were bound up or down Channel, and none came near the land.It was the first great disappointment Roger had ever had. Day after day went by, but still theBenbowfrigate did not make her appearance. Sometimes he hoped that he should receive a letter from her captain, telling him to come to some port farther west; where he might go on board, but no letter was received. The thought occurred to him that the vessel had been wrecked or had gone down during that dreadful night, but old Ben assured him that she had got under weigh while the wind was sufficiently to westward to enable her to weather Portland Bill and its dreaded Race, and that she was well out at sea before the worst of it commenced.“All a sailor wishes for is a stout ship and plenty of sea-room, you should know, Master Roger, and if he gets that he is content, as I have a notion Captain Benbow was on that night,” observed the old man.Roger often looked at his chest of clothes, and at length he did up those Stephen had brought him, and took them back to Langton Park, but his friend begged him to keep them.“You may want them still, I hope, and you will not refuse to oblige an old friend by accepting them,” he said.Meantime Mr Handscombe accompanied Mr Willoughby to pay a visit to Squire Battiscombe at Langton Park; his object he did not explain.“I have a notion that your worthy friend has some other object besides attending to his mercantile affairs in his visit to the west country,” observed the Colonel to his brother-in-law, who came back to the manor-house without his companion.“If you do not insist on knowing, it were as well that I should not tell you,” answered Mr Willoughby. “All I can say is that he is much touched by the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Shaftesbury, and others, and that he is a true Protestant and right honest man. He is bound for Bristol, from which place he promises to write to me, though it may be some time before I shall hear from him.”The Colonel was satisfied with this explanation; it did not occur to him that any evil consequences would arise from his receiving so respectable a personage as Mr Handscombe at his house.Roger was expecting another visit from Stephen, and perhaps Mistress Alice might have been looking forward with some pleasure to his coming, when a note was received from him saying that by his father’s express desire he was about to accompany Mr Handscombe to Bristol; that before the note would reach Roger he should already have set out. He regretted not having had time to pay a farewell visit, and begged to send his kind regards to Madam Pauline and Mistress Alice, as also to the Colonel and Mr Willoughby. “Mr Handscombe,” he continued, “undertakes to place me in a situation of trust, and my father thinks that it would be folly to decline so fine an opportunity of forwarding my interests in life. I promise you, Roger, that should I hear of any situation which you can fill with advantage, I will not fail to let you know, and I hope that your father and the Colonel will approve of your accepting it; you know that I mean what I say, and therefore do not look upon it as a mere make-believe promise.”This last paragraph somewhat consoled Roger for the regret he felt at the loss of his friend and companion.“I am sure he will do his best,” said Mistress Alice, who was always ready to praise Stephen; she, indeed, thought there were but few people like him in the world.“Yes, he is honest and truthful, two excellent qualities in a young man,” observed Madam Pauline.“Yes, that he is, and I shall not find any one like him in this part of the country,” said Roger.Stephen often said the same thing of his friend.Roger Willoughby had now plenty of time to attend to his studies; he continued working away steadily with his book of navigation, as well as with the few other works which he possessed, his uncle and father helping him to the best of their ability, but neither of them had had much time in their youth for study. He obtained rather more assistance from Master Holden, who was very willing to impart such knowledge as he possessed, albeit not of a description which Roger especially prized.Almost sooner than he expected, Roger received a note from Stephen Battiscombe, saying that his good fortune had been greater than he expected. He had got a situation in one of the principal mercantile houses in Bristol with which Mr Handscombe was connected, and that a post for which he considered Roger very well suited being vacant, he had applied and obtained it for him.“Lose no time in setting out,” he wrote, “for after a few weeks’ training we are to sail on board one of the ships belonging to the firm for the Levant.”Mr Willoughby and the Colonel were highly pleased with this. It seemed to open the way to Roger’s advancement, while he would be able to gratify his taste for the sea without being bound to it, as he would have been had he sailed with Captain Benbow. The question arose how he was to get to Bristol. The distance was considerable, upwards of sixty miles in a straight line, and much more when the turnings of the roads were calculated, which roads were in many places in a very bad condition. Roger himself, who was eager to set out, proposed performing the journey on a small horse or cob, with such luggage as could be carried in his valise and saddle-bags, while the remainder was to be sent by the stage-wagon from Lyme.“But, my dear boy, you might be attacked by highwaymen, and robbed and murdered on the road,” said his father.“I will try to beat off any highwaymen who may attack me, or gallop away from them,” answered Roger. “Besides, I doubt whether any gentlemen of the road would think it worth while to attack a boy like me; they generally fly at higher game. I have been talking to Tobias Platt, and he says that old Tony, though he has not done much work of late, will carry me well, and that if I do not push him too hard, I may do the journey in three days, or four at the most.”Old Tony was a cob which Mr Willoughby had ridden several years, but was now allowed to spend most of his days in the meadows. As no better mode of conveyance could be suggested, it was arranged that Roger should set out in a couple of days with his valise and saddle-bags, with a brace of pistols and a sword for his protection, in the use of which he had been well instructed by the Colonel. Old Tony in the meantime was fed on oats to prepare him for the journey. Just as Roger was about to set out, the Colonel received an intimation that his neighbour, Mr Battiscombe, would proceed the following day in the same direction, and he accordingly rode over to Langton to ask whether he would allow Roger to travel in his company.“With great pleasure,” he replied, “although, as I have several places to visit I may be longer about the journey than he would were he to go alone.”This, however, was of little consequence compared to the advantage it would be to Roger to travel with a gentleman who would, of course, have several servants in attendance.The morning arrived in which Roger Willoughby was to start from the home of his childhood to commence the active business of life. He was to sleep at Langton Park that he might start at daybreak the following morning with Mr Battiscombe.The Colonel accompanied him part of the way.“It is as well that you should make your appearance alone,” he observed. “It will show that you can take care of yourself, for your father and I have given you plenty of good advice, and all I have now to counsel you is to remember and follow it at the proper time. I have always found you to be honest and upright. Continue to be so. Fear God, and do your duty to man, and you will grow up all your father and I wish to see you. Now, fare thee well,” he added, pressing Roger’s hand. “If this proposed expedition to sea be carried out, you will witness strange sights and things of which you little dream at present, and you will come back, I hope, well able to amuse us two old men in our solitude with an account of your adventures.”The Colonel turned his horse’s head, and Roger rode forward on his nag to Langton Hall. The squire received him in the kindest way possible.“As I cannot take one of my sons, I am glad of your company, Roger, though it may delay your arrival at Bristol for some days,” he observed.“I thought that the journey could be performed in three days,” said Roger.“So it can under ordinary circumstances,” answered Mr Battiscombe, “but there may be interruptions, and we may have to tarry at the houses of friends; but I will talk to you more about that matter when we are on the road.”Roger was always treated as a friend by the family at Langton Hall, who thought of him more as the son of Mr Willoughby, who agreed with them in politics and religion, than as the nephew of the Cavalier Colonel Tregellen, with whom they differed on many points.At an early hour the following morning the whole family were astir to see the travellers start. Mr Battiscombe took with him a couple of stout serving-men, well mounted on strong horses. Farewells were uttered, and they set out. Leaving Axminster and Chard to the west, they proceeded northward along green lanes, the hedges on either side rich with flowers of varied tints. For some distance they met with few persons, for the labourers were out in the fields, and no travellers were journeying along those by-roads. The first day’s journey was but a short one, as Mr Battiscombe was unwilling to run the risk of knocking up his horses. As there was no inn on the road, they stopped at the house of a friend of his, holding the same religious and political opinions. As Roger took but little interest in the subjects they discussed over the decanters of beer which were placed on the table at supper, he was not sorry to be ordered off to bed.“If we do not make more progress than we have done to-day, it will be a long time before we get to Bristol,” he thought. “Had I been by myself, I could have made my nag go twice as far. However, we shall see how much we can accomplish to-morrow.”As on the previous day, they started at early dawn, that, as Mr Battiscombe said, “they might run no risk of having to travel by night.” They stopped at noon at a farm-house, with the owner of which Mr Battiscombe was well acquainted. The family were sitting down to dinner, and the travellers were warmly invited to enter and partake of the abundant though somewhat rough fare placed on the board. At one end of the table sat the sturdy farmer with his buxom wife and his sons and daughters; at the other were the farm-servants, with wooden bowls and platters before them, their knives the only implements they possessed to help themselves to food.“We are about to make holiday this afternoon Mr Battiscombe,” said the farmer. “The great Duke of Monmouth, with a party of friends, has ridden down from London to pay us west country folks a visit, and is on his way to stop at White Lackington House, where Mr George Speke awaits to welcome him. The country people from all quarters are turning out to do him honour, and we wish to show the affection we all feel for the champion of the Protestant faith.”“I had some intimation of this a few days ago, and so timed my journey to Bristol that I might be able to pay my respects to our brave Duke,” said Mr Battiscombe.As soon as dinner was over the farmer and his sons mounted their horses, and the whole party rode forward at a more rapid rate than Mr Battiscombe and Roger had gone on the previous day. As they reached the high-road which was between Ilchester and Ilminster, they saw numbers of people, some on horseback, some on foot, hurrying up from all directions, both men and women, among them several parties of young maidens dressed in white, and carrying baskets of flowers, the men generally in their gayest costumes. Presently the cry arose, “The Duke is coming!” when the young women hurried on and strewed the road with herbs and flowers, and as the Duke appeared, incessant shouts arose, “God bless King Charles and the Protestant Duke!” No one could look on him without admiring his fine figure, his handsome features, and graceful manner, as he bowed with his plumed hat, now to one side, now to the other. It was truly an exciting scene. Banks lined with people in their gayest dresses, trees covered with boys who had climbed up to obtain a better view of the spectacle, banners with various devices waving everywhere, while the people bawled themselves hoarse with shouting their joyous welcomes. Mr Battiscombe was among those who rode forward to salute the Duke and then to fall into his train, which was rapidly increasing. At last two thousand appeared in one body from the direction of Ilminster, more and more continuing to pour in, till their numbers must have swelled to twenty thousand at least. Mr Battiscombe met several friends and acquaintances, with whom he held conversation, and all were unanimous in speaking of the affability and condescension of the Duke. Thus for several miles they rode on, their numbers increasing, till they reached the confines of White Lackington Park. Mr Speke, the owner, who had been prepared for the Duke’s coming, rode out with a body of retainers to welcome his Grace; and that there might be no impediment to the entrance of the multitude who had arrived, he forthwith ordered several perches of the park paling to be taken down. In front of the house stood a group of Spanish chestnut-trees, famed for their size and beauty; beneath them were placed tables abundantly spread with all varieties of refreshment, of which the Duke with his immediate attendants were invited to partake.Mr Speke no sooner observed Mr Battiscombe than, beckoning to him, he introduced him to the Duke, with whom he had much conversation, while Roger was left by himself to watch the proceedings. The horsemen rode round and round that they might obtain a good view of the Duke, while those on foot pressed forward for the same purpose, and it was not without difficulty that they were prevented from approaching too near. No person, indeed, under royal rank had ever been received with the respect and honours now bestowed on the Duke. So well accustomed, however, was he to be thus treated, that he took everything as a matter of course; at the same time he expressed his gratitude to his noble entertainers for the honour they were doing him. He was leaning back talking to Mr Battiscombe, his hand hanging carelessly over the side of the chair, when from among the crowd a woman rushed forward, and eagerly seizing it, placed it on her head and face. The Duke, apparently much astonished, started up.“Why did you do that, good woman?” he asked.“That I might be cured of the king’s evil, for which I have in vain applied all the remedies the surgeons can prescribe,” she answered. “I have also travelled a score of miles that I might be touched by the seventh son of a seventh son, though all with no effect; but now I am assured that I shall recover.”“I pray that you may, good woman,” said the Duke, “though I know not how far the power of curing resides in me. What is your name?”“Elizabeth Parcet.”“Here,” said the Duke, producing a coin from his pocket, “this may help to console you should my touch fail to produce the desired effect.” The woman on this immediately retired, telling all those present that she felt sure she should ere long recover.The Duke slept that night at White Lackington House, to which Mr Speke invited Mr Battiscombe and Roger, who had thus a further opportunity of seeing the Duke. The next day the Duke set forth to visit Sir John Sydenham at Brampton House, where he was entertained with a splendid dinner. In the evening he went on to Barrington Court, the seat of Sir William Strode, who had prepared another sumptuous entertainment to do him honour. After dinner, attended by a multitude of people, he rode to Chard, at which town he was met and welcomed by a crowd of men, women, and children, all shouting their welcomes till their voices were hoarse. At night he slept at Ford Abbey, where he was treated to a very splendid supper by the owner, Mr Edmund Prideaux.Mr Battiscombe would willingly have accompanied His Grace during the rest of his progress, but he was compelled to proceed on his journey. He, however, received due notice of the movements of the Duke, who visited many other gentlemen of rank and influence throughout Somersetshire and other parts in the west. He received, too, notice of the perfect cure of Elizabeth Parcet, the document being signed by Henry Clark, minister of Crewkerne, two captains, a clergyman, and four others, which was forwarded to him before he reached Bristol.“This is wonderful!” he exclaimed as he showed it to Roger. “It proves one of two things, either that the Duke of Monmouth is the lawful son of Charles the Second, or that imagination must have had a powerful influence on the poor woman, for it is here stated that in two days she was perfectly well.”“Is it not possible that there may not be a third solution to the mystery?” asked Roger, who was clear-sighted and somewhat matter-of-fact. “There being a good many people who desire to have it supposed that the Duke is the rightful heir to the throne of England, it is possible that the paper was a bold forgery, drawn up for the purpose of influencing the populace. Either the woman may have been hired to play her part, and was not really a martyr to the king’s evil, or she may not be cured. It might be worth while to inquire whether Mr Clark, the minister of Crewkerne, ever put his signature to the paper, or if such a person exists; such, I suspect, would be the opinion my uncle would have formed on the subject.”“Thou art a thorough infidel, Roger!” exclaimed Mr Battiscombe in a half angry tone, though he confessed there was some probability in what Roger said.Be that as it may, the document produced the effect intended on the minds of many of the ignorant, not only in the West of England but in London, where it was circulated, and the Duke and his supporters were not persons generally inclined to contradict what was calculated to forward their objects.Instead of three or four days, more than a week had passed before Mr Battiscombe and Roger reached Bristol, where Stephen welcomed them at the lodgings he occupied, close to the mansion of the wealthy firm in whose service he was employed. Mr Handscombe was still there, though about to return to London. He was highly pleased at hearing of the reception the Duke had met with.“He has been sowing the seeds which will, I hope, produce ample fruit in good time,” he observed. “While his present Majesty lives, though at heart more Papist than Protestant, it may be well for him to remain quiet; but should James Duke of York come to the throne, it will be time for all who love our Protestant principles to rally round the standard of Monmouth.”Mr Battiscombe having soon transacted the business which had brought him to Bristol, took his departure to return south with Mr Handscombe.Roger set to work with the zeal which was one of his characteristics to master the details of the work he had undertaken, and soon won the approval and confidence of his employers.Bristol, though covering a much less extent of ground than at the present time, was then looked upon as a large city, but its beautiful churches were surrounded by a labyrinth of narrow lanes, through which a coach or cart could with difficulty pass along; goods were therefore conveyed about the town almost exclusively in trucks drawn by dogs. As even the chief merchants could not use carriages when they went abroad, they walked on foot, attended by servants in rich liveries. They were renowned also for their luxurious entertainments, when their guests were supplied with a beverage composed of the richest Spanish wines, known as “Bristol milk.” The merchants traded chiefly to the West Indies and the American plantations, as also to the coast of Africa and the Levant. It was in one of these princely firms that Stephen Battiscombe and Roger Willoughby were so fortunate as to find employment, and, thanks to the strong recommendation of Mr Handscombe, they were both placed in posts of trust.

Madam Pauline, aided by Alice and several active-fingered maidens, laboured without cessation for several hours till they had prepared Roger’s kit as far as circumstances would allow. The Colonel had retired to his chamber, and Mr Willoughby had seen Master Handscombe to one which had been prepared for him. Roger and Stephen had fallen asleep in spite of their intention of sitting up all night to be ready for the morning, when suddenly a strong blast, which found its way through the window, blew out two of the lamps at which the maidens had been working. Madam Pauline ordered them to run and shut it. Scarcely had this been done, when another blast, sweeping round the house, shook it almost to its foundation, setting all the windows and doors rattling and creaking. Even Stephen and Roger were at length awakened. The wind howled and whistled and shrieked among the surrounding trees, the thunder roared, the lightning flashed, the rain came down in torrents.

“Which way does the wind blow, think you?” asked Roger in an anxious tone.

“From the south-west, I fear,” answered Stephen. “And if so, Captain Benbow will have reason to wish that he had got a good offing from the shore before it came on.”

“Surely she’s a stout craft, and will stand a worse gale than this,” answered Roger.

“I do not know what you would call a worse gale than this,” said Stephen. “It makes the house rock, and I should not be surprised to find many an old elm torn up by the roots.”

“I wish that I had been on board to assist our brave friend and his crew,” said Roger.

“You may have reason to be thankful that you are safe on shore,” remarked Stephen. “Such a gale as this is sufficient to drive even a stouter ship than theBenbowfrigate from her anchors; but we must wait patiently till the morning to ascertain the truth.”

“Why should that be?” exclaimed Roger. “I am not afraid of the wind, and can find my way if it were twice as dark as it is.—Come along.”

Stephen, however, who was not inclined to expose himself to the inclemency of the weather, proposed that they should wait till the morning.

“No, no,” said Roger, rising and putting on his clothes; “if we are to be of any use we should go at once.”

“Certainly, if such is the case,” said Stephen, also rising. “But I am afraid that we can render no assistance to the stout frigate if she is in peril.”

“Let us go and see about it, at all events,” said Roger, who had finished dressing.

They put on their thick overcoats; fortunately Stephen had left his some days before at the manor-house. They had hitherto awakened no one, and had just reached the side-door when they saw a light coming along the passage.

“Who goes there?” asked a voice, which they recognised as that of Mr Willoughby. “Whither are you going, lads, on such a night as this?” he inquired.

“We are greatly afraid that some misadventure may have befallen theBenbowfrigate, and are going to see, father. You will not say us no, I hope?”

Mr Willoughby hesitated, but Roger pressed the point, and finally obtained leave, his father assisting them to close the door, to do which required no small amount of exertion. So great was the darkness, in spite of Roger’s knowledge of the road and the lantern he carried, the lads could not at times clearly see their way. The wind blew in their faces the branches waved to and fro, the tall trees bent, while ever and anon down came the rain in huge drops battering against them. Still they struggled on. Crossing the downs, they had still to make greater exertions, or further progress would have been impossible, but they were not to be daunted.

“We must take care that we do not go suddenly over the edge of the cliff,” said Stephen, who was always cautious. “Even with the light of the lantern it is difficult to distinguish it.”

“I shall see it clearly enough when we get there,” said Roger. “But I propose that we first visit Ben Rullock’s cottage, and get him and his boy to help us; he will know whereabouts the ship lies.”

“But you do not think we can go off to the ship in his boat?” remarked Stephen.

“No; my fear is that the ship may be driven in close to the shore, and that her crew may be unable to escape from her,” said Roger.

He, knowing the locality well, even in the darkness, managed to hit the path which led down to the old fisherman’s cottage; he and his companion, however, had to walk cautiously, for it was narrow and winding, and a false step might have sent them over the cliff.

On reaching the door they knocked loudly.

“Ben Rullock, turn out! turn out! there is a ship in danger!” shouted Roger. But the dashing of the breakers on the shore, and the howling of the wind, produced so wild an uproar that his voice was not heard. Again and again he and Stephen shouted and knocked louder and louder.

“Who’s there wanting me at this hour of the morning?” they at length heard a voice from within exclaim. Roger repeated what he had before said, and at length old Ben came to the door with a candle, which was immediately blown out.

“A ship in danger, young master!” he exclaimed. “I have not heard her guns firing, or other signal of distress, and my ears are pretty sharp, even when I am asleep.”

“We are anxious about theBenbowfrigate, as we are afraid that she may have been driven on shore.”

“Her captain knows too well what he is about to allow her to do that,” answered old Ben. “He had not been aboard yesterday evening two minutes before he got under weigh, and must have gained a good offing before the gale came on.”

“I heartily hope that such may be the case,” observed Stephen.

“I am afraid that if he got under weigh he will not be coming back,” said Roger.

“We shall soon know,” observed Ben. “Dawn is just breaking, and it will be daylight ere long.—Come in, young gentlemen, and in the meantime, for you are wet through, I will rouse up young Toby, and we will have a fire lighted to dry your wet duds.”

The lads were glad enough to accept old Ben’s invitation, for though they had strained their eyes to the utmost no sign could they discover of theBenbowfrigate, but they fancied that the darkness, which is generally the greatest an hour before dawn, had concealed her from their sight. Toby, who turned out on being called, quickly lighted a fire with the driftwood, of which there was generally an abundant supply on the beach, and they sat before it for some time drying their wet clothes, its bright light preventing them from seeing how rapidly the dawn was advancing. At length Roger starting up exclaimed, “Why, it is nearly broad daylight: we shall be well able to see the ship where she lay at anchor.”

“I doubt if you will see her there or anywhere else,” said old Ben, as he accompanied Roger and Stephen, who eagerly ran out of the cottage.

Though the rain had ceased, the gale was blowing as hard as ever, while the spray which rose from the breakers dashing on the shore beneath their feet filled the air as they reached a point where, by shading their eyes with their hands, they could obtain a view over the whole bay. They eagerly looked out, but nowhere was theBenbowfrigate to be seen. Ben’s information was correct.

It was evident that Captain Benbow, on perceiving the approach of bad weather, had immediately got under weigh to gain a good offing. In vain the lads gazed along the whole line of the horizon extending from the Bill of Portland to the Start—not a sail was visible.

“Maybe she’s run in for shelter on the other side of Portland, or, still more likely, has stood on through the Needle passage to bring up inside the Isle of Wight,” observed Ben. “She will not be coming back here, you may depend on?”

As there was nothing more to be done, Roger, greatly disappointed, returned with Stephen to the manor-house. He was very glad to find that the ship had escaped, but he was afraid that it might be long before she would return, and his hopes of going to sea on board her would be realised.

The gale lasted scarcely the usual three days, when the weather became as fine as before, and Roger paid many a visit to the shore in the hopes of seeing theBenbowfrigate coming once more to an anchorage. Though many ships passed by, they were bound up or down Channel, and none came near the land.

It was the first great disappointment Roger had ever had. Day after day went by, but still theBenbowfrigate did not make her appearance. Sometimes he hoped that he should receive a letter from her captain, telling him to come to some port farther west; where he might go on board, but no letter was received. The thought occurred to him that the vessel had been wrecked or had gone down during that dreadful night, but old Ben assured him that she had got under weigh while the wind was sufficiently to westward to enable her to weather Portland Bill and its dreaded Race, and that she was well out at sea before the worst of it commenced.

“All a sailor wishes for is a stout ship and plenty of sea-room, you should know, Master Roger, and if he gets that he is content, as I have a notion Captain Benbow was on that night,” observed the old man.

Roger often looked at his chest of clothes, and at length he did up those Stephen had brought him, and took them back to Langton Park, but his friend begged him to keep them.

“You may want them still, I hope, and you will not refuse to oblige an old friend by accepting them,” he said.

Meantime Mr Handscombe accompanied Mr Willoughby to pay a visit to Squire Battiscombe at Langton Park; his object he did not explain.

“I have a notion that your worthy friend has some other object besides attending to his mercantile affairs in his visit to the west country,” observed the Colonel to his brother-in-law, who came back to the manor-house without his companion.

“If you do not insist on knowing, it were as well that I should not tell you,” answered Mr Willoughby. “All I can say is that he is much touched by the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Shaftesbury, and others, and that he is a true Protestant and right honest man. He is bound for Bristol, from which place he promises to write to me, though it may be some time before I shall hear from him.”

The Colonel was satisfied with this explanation; it did not occur to him that any evil consequences would arise from his receiving so respectable a personage as Mr Handscombe at his house.

Roger was expecting another visit from Stephen, and perhaps Mistress Alice might have been looking forward with some pleasure to his coming, when a note was received from him saying that by his father’s express desire he was about to accompany Mr Handscombe to Bristol; that before the note would reach Roger he should already have set out. He regretted not having had time to pay a farewell visit, and begged to send his kind regards to Madam Pauline and Mistress Alice, as also to the Colonel and Mr Willoughby. “Mr Handscombe,” he continued, “undertakes to place me in a situation of trust, and my father thinks that it would be folly to decline so fine an opportunity of forwarding my interests in life. I promise you, Roger, that should I hear of any situation which you can fill with advantage, I will not fail to let you know, and I hope that your father and the Colonel will approve of your accepting it; you know that I mean what I say, and therefore do not look upon it as a mere make-believe promise.”

This last paragraph somewhat consoled Roger for the regret he felt at the loss of his friend and companion.

“I am sure he will do his best,” said Mistress Alice, who was always ready to praise Stephen; she, indeed, thought there were but few people like him in the world.

“Yes, he is honest and truthful, two excellent qualities in a young man,” observed Madam Pauline.

“Yes, that he is, and I shall not find any one like him in this part of the country,” said Roger.

Stephen often said the same thing of his friend.

Roger Willoughby had now plenty of time to attend to his studies; he continued working away steadily with his book of navigation, as well as with the few other works which he possessed, his uncle and father helping him to the best of their ability, but neither of them had had much time in their youth for study. He obtained rather more assistance from Master Holden, who was very willing to impart such knowledge as he possessed, albeit not of a description which Roger especially prized.

Almost sooner than he expected, Roger received a note from Stephen Battiscombe, saying that his good fortune had been greater than he expected. He had got a situation in one of the principal mercantile houses in Bristol with which Mr Handscombe was connected, and that a post for which he considered Roger very well suited being vacant, he had applied and obtained it for him.

“Lose no time in setting out,” he wrote, “for after a few weeks’ training we are to sail on board one of the ships belonging to the firm for the Levant.”

Mr Willoughby and the Colonel were highly pleased with this. It seemed to open the way to Roger’s advancement, while he would be able to gratify his taste for the sea without being bound to it, as he would have been had he sailed with Captain Benbow. The question arose how he was to get to Bristol. The distance was considerable, upwards of sixty miles in a straight line, and much more when the turnings of the roads were calculated, which roads were in many places in a very bad condition. Roger himself, who was eager to set out, proposed performing the journey on a small horse or cob, with such luggage as could be carried in his valise and saddle-bags, while the remainder was to be sent by the stage-wagon from Lyme.

“But, my dear boy, you might be attacked by highwaymen, and robbed and murdered on the road,” said his father.

“I will try to beat off any highwaymen who may attack me, or gallop away from them,” answered Roger. “Besides, I doubt whether any gentlemen of the road would think it worth while to attack a boy like me; they generally fly at higher game. I have been talking to Tobias Platt, and he says that old Tony, though he has not done much work of late, will carry me well, and that if I do not push him too hard, I may do the journey in three days, or four at the most.”

Old Tony was a cob which Mr Willoughby had ridden several years, but was now allowed to spend most of his days in the meadows. As no better mode of conveyance could be suggested, it was arranged that Roger should set out in a couple of days with his valise and saddle-bags, with a brace of pistols and a sword for his protection, in the use of which he had been well instructed by the Colonel. Old Tony in the meantime was fed on oats to prepare him for the journey. Just as Roger was about to set out, the Colonel received an intimation that his neighbour, Mr Battiscombe, would proceed the following day in the same direction, and he accordingly rode over to Langton to ask whether he would allow Roger to travel in his company.

“With great pleasure,” he replied, “although, as I have several places to visit I may be longer about the journey than he would were he to go alone.”

This, however, was of little consequence compared to the advantage it would be to Roger to travel with a gentleman who would, of course, have several servants in attendance.

The morning arrived in which Roger Willoughby was to start from the home of his childhood to commence the active business of life. He was to sleep at Langton Park that he might start at daybreak the following morning with Mr Battiscombe.

The Colonel accompanied him part of the way.

“It is as well that you should make your appearance alone,” he observed. “It will show that you can take care of yourself, for your father and I have given you plenty of good advice, and all I have now to counsel you is to remember and follow it at the proper time. I have always found you to be honest and upright. Continue to be so. Fear God, and do your duty to man, and you will grow up all your father and I wish to see you. Now, fare thee well,” he added, pressing Roger’s hand. “If this proposed expedition to sea be carried out, you will witness strange sights and things of which you little dream at present, and you will come back, I hope, well able to amuse us two old men in our solitude with an account of your adventures.”

The Colonel turned his horse’s head, and Roger rode forward on his nag to Langton Hall. The squire received him in the kindest way possible.

“As I cannot take one of my sons, I am glad of your company, Roger, though it may delay your arrival at Bristol for some days,” he observed.

“I thought that the journey could be performed in three days,” said Roger.

“So it can under ordinary circumstances,” answered Mr Battiscombe, “but there may be interruptions, and we may have to tarry at the houses of friends; but I will talk to you more about that matter when we are on the road.”

Roger was always treated as a friend by the family at Langton Hall, who thought of him more as the son of Mr Willoughby, who agreed with them in politics and religion, than as the nephew of the Cavalier Colonel Tregellen, with whom they differed on many points.

At an early hour the following morning the whole family were astir to see the travellers start. Mr Battiscombe took with him a couple of stout serving-men, well mounted on strong horses. Farewells were uttered, and they set out. Leaving Axminster and Chard to the west, they proceeded northward along green lanes, the hedges on either side rich with flowers of varied tints. For some distance they met with few persons, for the labourers were out in the fields, and no travellers were journeying along those by-roads. The first day’s journey was but a short one, as Mr Battiscombe was unwilling to run the risk of knocking up his horses. As there was no inn on the road, they stopped at the house of a friend of his, holding the same religious and political opinions. As Roger took but little interest in the subjects they discussed over the decanters of beer which were placed on the table at supper, he was not sorry to be ordered off to bed.

“If we do not make more progress than we have done to-day, it will be a long time before we get to Bristol,” he thought. “Had I been by myself, I could have made my nag go twice as far. However, we shall see how much we can accomplish to-morrow.”

As on the previous day, they started at early dawn, that, as Mr Battiscombe said, “they might run no risk of having to travel by night.” They stopped at noon at a farm-house, with the owner of which Mr Battiscombe was well acquainted. The family were sitting down to dinner, and the travellers were warmly invited to enter and partake of the abundant though somewhat rough fare placed on the board. At one end of the table sat the sturdy farmer with his buxom wife and his sons and daughters; at the other were the farm-servants, with wooden bowls and platters before them, their knives the only implements they possessed to help themselves to food.

“We are about to make holiday this afternoon Mr Battiscombe,” said the farmer. “The great Duke of Monmouth, with a party of friends, has ridden down from London to pay us west country folks a visit, and is on his way to stop at White Lackington House, where Mr George Speke awaits to welcome him. The country people from all quarters are turning out to do him honour, and we wish to show the affection we all feel for the champion of the Protestant faith.”

“I had some intimation of this a few days ago, and so timed my journey to Bristol that I might be able to pay my respects to our brave Duke,” said Mr Battiscombe.

As soon as dinner was over the farmer and his sons mounted their horses, and the whole party rode forward at a more rapid rate than Mr Battiscombe and Roger had gone on the previous day. As they reached the high-road which was between Ilchester and Ilminster, they saw numbers of people, some on horseback, some on foot, hurrying up from all directions, both men and women, among them several parties of young maidens dressed in white, and carrying baskets of flowers, the men generally in their gayest costumes. Presently the cry arose, “The Duke is coming!” when the young women hurried on and strewed the road with herbs and flowers, and as the Duke appeared, incessant shouts arose, “God bless King Charles and the Protestant Duke!” No one could look on him without admiring his fine figure, his handsome features, and graceful manner, as he bowed with his plumed hat, now to one side, now to the other. It was truly an exciting scene. Banks lined with people in their gayest dresses, trees covered with boys who had climbed up to obtain a better view of the spectacle, banners with various devices waving everywhere, while the people bawled themselves hoarse with shouting their joyous welcomes. Mr Battiscombe was among those who rode forward to salute the Duke and then to fall into his train, which was rapidly increasing. At last two thousand appeared in one body from the direction of Ilminster, more and more continuing to pour in, till their numbers must have swelled to twenty thousand at least. Mr Battiscombe met several friends and acquaintances, with whom he held conversation, and all were unanimous in speaking of the affability and condescension of the Duke. Thus for several miles they rode on, their numbers increasing, till they reached the confines of White Lackington Park. Mr Speke, the owner, who had been prepared for the Duke’s coming, rode out with a body of retainers to welcome his Grace; and that there might be no impediment to the entrance of the multitude who had arrived, he forthwith ordered several perches of the park paling to be taken down. In front of the house stood a group of Spanish chestnut-trees, famed for their size and beauty; beneath them were placed tables abundantly spread with all varieties of refreshment, of which the Duke with his immediate attendants were invited to partake.

Mr Speke no sooner observed Mr Battiscombe than, beckoning to him, he introduced him to the Duke, with whom he had much conversation, while Roger was left by himself to watch the proceedings. The horsemen rode round and round that they might obtain a good view of the Duke, while those on foot pressed forward for the same purpose, and it was not without difficulty that they were prevented from approaching too near. No person, indeed, under royal rank had ever been received with the respect and honours now bestowed on the Duke. So well accustomed, however, was he to be thus treated, that he took everything as a matter of course; at the same time he expressed his gratitude to his noble entertainers for the honour they were doing him. He was leaning back talking to Mr Battiscombe, his hand hanging carelessly over the side of the chair, when from among the crowd a woman rushed forward, and eagerly seizing it, placed it on her head and face. The Duke, apparently much astonished, started up.

“Why did you do that, good woman?” he asked.

“That I might be cured of the king’s evil, for which I have in vain applied all the remedies the surgeons can prescribe,” she answered. “I have also travelled a score of miles that I might be touched by the seventh son of a seventh son, though all with no effect; but now I am assured that I shall recover.”

“I pray that you may, good woman,” said the Duke, “though I know not how far the power of curing resides in me. What is your name?”

“Elizabeth Parcet.”

“Here,” said the Duke, producing a coin from his pocket, “this may help to console you should my touch fail to produce the desired effect.” The woman on this immediately retired, telling all those present that she felt sure she should ere long recover.

The Duke slept that night at White Lackington House, to which Mr Speke invited Mr Battiscombe and Roger, who had thus a further opportunity of seeing the Duke. The next day the Duke set forth to visit Sir John Sydenham at Brampton House, where he was entertained with a splendid dinner. In the evening he went on to Barrington Court, the seat of Sir William Strode, who had prepared another sumptuous entertainment to do him honour. After dinner, attended by a multitude of people, he rode to Chard, at which town he was met and welcomed by a crowd of men, women, and children, all shouting their welcomes till their voices were hoarse. At night he slept at Ford Abbey, where he was treated to a very splendid supper by the owner, Mr Edmund Prideaux.

Mr Battiscombe would willingly have accompanied His Grace during the rest of his progress, but he was compelled to proceed on his journey. He, however, received due notice of the movements of the Duke, who visited many other gentlemen of rank and influence throughout Somersetshire and other parts in the west. He received, too, notice of the perfect cure of Elizabeth Parcet, the document being signed by Henry Clark, minister of Crewkerne, two captains, a clergyman, and four others, which was forwarded to him before he reached Bristol.

“This is wonderful!” he exclaimed as he showed it to Roger. “It proves one of two things, either that the Duke of Monmouth is the lawful son of Charles the Second, or that imagination must have had a powerful influence on the poor woman, for it is here stated that in two days she was perfectly well.”

“Is it not possible that there may not be a third solution to the mystery?” asked Roger, who was clear-sighted and somewhat matter-of-fact. “There being a good many people who desire to have it supposed that the Duke is the rightful heir to the throne of England, it is possible that the paper was a bold forgery, drawn up for the purpose of influencing the populace. Either the woman may have been hired to play her part, and was not really a martyr to the king’s evil, or she may not be cured. It might be worth while to inquire whether Mr Clark, the minister of Crewkerne, ever put his signature to the paper, or if such a person exists; such, I suspect, would be the opinion my uncle would have formed on the subject.”

“Thou art a thorough infidel, Roger!” exclaimed Mr Battiscombe in a half angry tone, though he confessed there was some probability in what Roger said.

Be that as it may, the document produced the effect intended on the minds of many of the ignorant, not only in the West of England but in London, where it was circulated, and the Duke and his supporters were not persons generally inclined to contradict what was calculated to forward their objects.

Instead of three or four days, more than a week had passed before Mr Battiscombe and Roger reached Bristol, where Stephen welcomed them at the lodgings he occupied, close to the mansion of the wealthy firm in whose service he was employed. Mr Handscombe was still there, though about to return to London. He was highly pleased at hearing of the reception the Duke had met with.

“He has been sowing the seeds which will, I hope, produce ample fruit in good time,” he observed. “While his present Majesty lives, though at heart more Papist than Protestant, it may be well for him to remain quiet; but should James Duke of York come to the throne, it will be time for all who love our Protestant principles to rally round the standard of Monmouth.”

Mr Battiscombe having soon transacted the business which had brought him to Bristol, took his departure to return south with Mr Handscombe.

Roger set to work with the zeal which was one of his characteristics to master the details of the work he had undertaken, and soon won the approval and confidence of his employers.

Bristol, though covering a much less extent of ground than at the present time, was then looked upon as a large city, but its beautiful churches were surrounded by a labyrinth of narrow lanes, through which a coach or cart could with difficulty pass along; goods were therefore conveyed about the town almost exclusively in trucks drawn by dogs. As even the chief merchants could not use carriages when they went abroad, they walked on foot, attended by servants in rich liveries. They were renowned also for their luxurious entertainments, when their guests were supplied with a beverage composed of the richest Spanish wines, known as “Bristol milk.” The merchants traded chiefly to the West Indies and the American plantations, as also to the coast of Africa and the Levant. It was in one of these princely firms that Stephen Battiscombe and Roger Willoughby were so fortunate as to find employment, and, thanks to the strong recommendation of Mr Handscombe, they were both placed in posts of trust.

Chapter Three.Several months had passed away, during which Stephen Battiscombe and Roger Willoughby had performed their duties in the counting-house at Bristol much to the satisfaction of their employers. Roger had not abandoned his wish of going to sea, though he was too wise to give up his present situation till a good opportunity should offer. He had, while passing along the quay, observed a house with a large wooden quadrant over the door, and on inquiry he found that a certain master-mariner, Captain Trickett, who gave lessons in astronomy and navigation, resided there. He made bold to enter, and explaining his wish to master the subjects the captain taught, soon entered into an arrangement to attend three evenings a week.“I promise you, lad, before the winter is over, to turn you out as good a navigator as Sir Francis Drake, Master John Hawkins, or any other sea-captain you may be pleased to name,” said the old captain. “Give your mind to it, that is the first requisite; it is of little use for an instructor to put information in one ear which pops out at the other as soon as it is received.”Captain Trickett was an enthusiast in his art, had been pilot in his youth to several expeditions which had gone forth from England to explore foreign regions, and had many strange accounts to give of the buccaneers and logwood cutters in the Caribbean Sea, where he himself had spent some time. Roger made considerable progress in his studies, and at length persuaded Stephen Battiscombe to accompany him.“It would not be lost time if you also were to take some lessons and were to try to master the subject; it is very interesting, and perchance some day, if you have to sail on business to foreign lands, you may find the knowledge you acquire of use,” said Roger. “Captain Trickett tells me that he has known instances where the officers of a ship have died, and no one on board remained capable of taking her into port.”Thus instigated, Stephen, who had a very good head for mathematics, readily attended the instruction of Captain Trickett, and following the Captain’s advice by giving his mind to the subject, soon acquired as much knowledge as Roger himself. On holidays, when the sun was up in the sky, the Captain delighted to accompany his pupils to some open space, where, with the aid of a false horizon, he could teach them practically how to take an observation or to “shoot the sun,” as he called it. The mode in which the two lads were employing themselves came to the ears of the principals of the firm, who much approved of their diligence and industry.“Would that we had others like you!” said Mr Kempson. “Our difficulty is to find men who combine knowledge of business with that of seamanship and navigation. After a few voyages, if Captain Trickett does not speak of you in too laudatory terms, you will be able to take charge of a ship to sail either to the West Indies or to the North American plantations, or to the coast of Africa, or to the Levant. We will take care, in the meantime, that you have opportunities of exercising your skill.”Roger and Stephen thanked the worthy merchant for the approval he had bestowed on them, and promised to continue as diligent as heretofore.Roger often went down to the river to inquire what vessels had arrived, in the hopes of meeting with Captain Benbow, who he felt sure would receive him on board his ship, but theBenbowfrigate did not make her appearance. He heard, however, that she had been met with bound for the Thames, so that he had the satisfaction of knowing that she had escaped the gale which caught her off the Dorsetshire coast. He was told, indeed, that she always traded between London and foreign ports, and that there was very little probability of her putting into Bristol, unless she should obtain a cargo from any merchants connected with that port, which was not likely, as they always reserved their freights for Bristol vessels.“I must hope for some other chance of meeting him,” said Roger to Stephen as they were walking home. “I do not think he can have forgotten me, and he appeared to be a man who, having made a promise, would certainly keep to it, so that if I could fall in with his ship I should not hesitate to go on board and ask him to take me.”“You are very well off where you are,” remarked Stephen, “and I would advise you to stick to the desk till you have gained a thorough knowledge of mercantile affairs. You may then have an opportunity of turning them to good account, whereas at present you scarcely know enough to be of much use to you.”Roger could not but acknowledge that this was the case, and he wisely determined to quell his impatience and to go on as he had begun.They both occasionally received letters from home, which seldom, however, contained much matter of interest except to themselves. More frequently news came from London of important public matters. They heard of the Rye-house Plot, of the fall of Shaftesbury and of his escape to Holland, the execution of Russell and Sydney, the death of Essex by his own hand in the Tower, to escape the fate awaiting him. Roger took but little interest in politics; Stephen, on the contrary, was always eager to read theNews-Letterwhen it arrived from the capital. He mourned over the banishment of the Duke of Monmouth, who, after the discovery of the Rye-house Plot, though forgiven by the King, thought it prudent to retire to Holland; and he was indignant at hearing of the way the Duke of York was ruling Scotland, of the odious laws he had passed, and of the barbarous punishments he caused to be inflicted, often himself being present when prisoners were subjected to torture. It was said that he watched the agony of the sufferers as if it afforded him intense satisfaction.“His tyrannical proceedings show clearly how he intends to govern England. Should he succeed to the throne of England, he must never be allowed to mount it,” exclaimed Stephen. “He will not be content till he has crushed out our civil and religious liberties, which the best blood of our country has been shed to obtain. Would that when the gallant Duke of Monmouth came to the west, the thousands who greeted him had banded together and marched to London to insist on the exclusion of the Duke of York and the nomination of Monmouth as heir to his father.”“Such a proceeding could scarcely have succeeded without bloodshed,” observed Roger.“Better to have shed a few streamlets then than the rivers which may have to flow should the tyrant gain the throne,” answered Stephen.The opinions of Stephen Battiscombe were held by a good many others, although, like wise men, when they could not benefit the cause they did not utter them in public. Bristol having had fighting enough in former years, they did not again wish to see war brought to her gates. Stephen might at present safely entertain his opinions, but there seemed no chance just then of his having an opportunity of practically acting on them.The summer had commenced, when one morning Mr Kempson sent for Stephen.“You know, Battiscombe, that we have a new vessel, theDolphin, fitting out in the river, and judging from the intelligence you have shown and your aptitude for business that you will be well suited for the office, we propose sending you out as supercargo, and as young Roger Willoughby has given us satisfaction, we think of letting him go as cabin-boy that he may assist you. Are you willing to undertake the office?”“With all my heart,” answered Stephen; “and I can answer for Willoughby, who will, I know, be delighted, for he has long wished to go to sea.”“We will consider that matter settled, then,” said Mr Kempson. “Here is a list of the cargo we intend shipping, and you and Willoughby will go on board to-morrow morning, and note each case and bale as it is lowered into the hold. You will also be supplied with samples of all the goods, so that you will be well acquainted with the articles under your charge. I will give you further directions by and by. In the meantime you can see about young Willoughby’s outfit and your own, and tell Mr Tape the tailor to send in the account to us.”Stephen was highly pleased with the complimentary way the senior partner spoke to him, and he was about to leave the room eager to tell Roger the good news, when a strongly-built black-bearded man entered.“Stay, Battiscombe,” said the senior partner; “I will take this opportunity of introducing you to Captain Roberts, who commands theDolphin, as you will be shipmates for some months, or longer.”“Happy to make the young gentleman’s acquaintance,” said the Captain, putting out his hand and giving Stephen a grip which nearly wrung his fingers off; “hope we shall get on well together. I came up here, Mr Kempson, to say that the ship is ready to take in cargo as soon as you are ready to ship it.”“We may say to-morrow, then, and Mr Battiscombe, with young Willoughby to assist him, will go on board and take charge of the cargo.”As the Captain had some further business to transact with Mr Kempson, Stephen took his leave, and hurried out to tell Roger, who was just leaving the counting-house for the day.“What, are we really to be off soon!” exclaimed the latter. “I can scarcely believe the good news you tell me. I little thought when I got off my high stool, that it was the last time I was to mount it, for I suppose that theDolphinwill sail as soon as the cargo is received on board.”“Little doubt about that,” said Stephen. “The sooner we see to getting our outfits the better.”“I have brought a good store of things from home,” said Roger.“You have outgrown a good lot of them, I should think,” remarked Stephen; “and we will at once pay a visit to Mr Tape, who will know more or less what you require.”“But how are they to be paid for?” asked Roger.“Mr Kempson will settle that,” said Stephen.“He is very kind and generous, and I am grateful to him,” said Roger.They at once carried out their intentions.The following morning by daybreak they went on board theDolphin. As none of the cargo had arrived, they had time to look over the ship, and to take a glance round the cabin which was to be their home for some months to come. It was fitted up with several berths, besides a state cabin intended for the Captain’s use. There were arms of various sorts, such as musketoons, pistols, pikes, and hangers, fixed against the after-bulkhead, and there was a table in the centre, surrounded by strong wooden chairs. There was not much in the way of ornament, everything seemed intended for use.While they were there the Captain, who had come on board, entered the cabin. “Glad to see you so soon, young gentlemen,” he observed; “it is the early bird that gets the worm,” as they say. “I thought that we should very likely have to wait for you, but now when the cargo comes down we may begin stowing away at once.”In a short time a number of trucks arrived on the wharf, bringing bales and packages, which the crew began hoisting on board with the help of a crane and whips. The process was a somewhat long one compared to the rapid way in which vessels are laden at the present day. Stephen and Roger had plenty of time to note each bale, package, and cask before it was lowered into the hold, it being Roger’s business to see where each was stowed, so that they might be got at when required. They worked on diligently, knocking off only for a short time to dine, so that in the afternoon, when Mr Kempson came down, they had made good progress. He commended them accordingly. Roger, as he looked at the pile of goods, wondered how room could be found for them on board, yet after all the cases had been stowed away in the capacious hold, there was plenty of room left for more. In three days, however, the cargo was complete, the hatches were put on and fastened down, and Captain Roberts announced that he was ready for sea. Stephen and Roger had but little time to get their things, to run round and bid their friends farewell; their last visit was to Captain Trickett.“Farewell, my boys, and a prosperous voyage to you!” he said, as he shook their hands warmly. “You may meet with adventures, some not as pleasant as you would desire, but stick to your duty, never say die, and hope for the best.”That evening theDolphinbegan to drop down the river with the tide. She was a fine vessel, not so large, Roger thought, as theBenbowfrigate, but she had three masts, with a long mizzen-yard, on which a triangular sail was set. She was deep-waisted, with a high poop, and topgallant forecastle, from beneath each of which two guns were so placed that should boarders gain the deck, they would be quickly shot down. She had, besides, eight guns pointing out at the sides, and was able to defend herself against any ordinary enemies; indeed, in those days when pirates and buccaneers abounded, it was necessary for merchant vessels which had rich freights to guard to be well-armed, especially when they sailed alone, without convoy of a man-of-war. As the wind was from the northward, as soon as they got clear of the Severn all sail was hoisted, and they stood down the British Channel, and Roger walked the deck with no little satisfaction at finding himself at length on board ship. The following day they were out of sight of land. When Roger saw the Captain and his mates bring up their quadrants on deck just before noon to make an observation, he brought up his, and began in a methodical way to make preparations for taking one also.“What, youngster, have you been at sea before?” asked the Captain.“No, sir, but I have studied navigation, and I want to put my knowledge into practice.”“Well, now is the time; let us see how you do it.”Roger “shot the sun” in very good style; not only did that, but rapidly worked out the calculation on a small piece of paper, and it exactly agreed with that taken by the Captain, who looked well pleased, but it differed from that of one of the mates, who had made a mistake.“You will do, my boy,” said Captain Roberts. “I will try you with other observations by and by. Where did you get your knowledge?” Roger told him. “What, from old Trickett? No wonder you are correct; there is not a better navigator in Bristol.”Next day Stephen brought out his quadrant and did justice to his instructor, he also receiving a due amount of praise from the Captain. The mates looked rather jealous at the two youngsters, who had never before been to sea, who took observations as well as they could. Before theDolphinhad got half-way across the Bay of Biscay it fell calm, and she lay laving her sides in the smooth water, as the swell, which is seldom wanting there, passed under her keel. For many hours she did not move her position; the big mizzen, which had been flapping with reports like thunder, was furled; the other sails were brailed up. Roger, who was always of a social disposition, took the opportunity of having a talk with some of the crew. Among them was a black, who, although still very young, being scarcely more than a boy, had met with many strange adventures,—among others, he had been made prisoner by the Moors. He could talk Arabic, he said, as well as English, which was not, by the by, very correctly. He was called Jack Jumbo on board, but he preferred being called Felix, a name, he told Roger, some gentlemen had given him because he was always a merry fellow. He hinted that he had been a prince in his own country, but he had been carried away at an early age; he did not know much about it. Roger took a great liking to him, for from his intelligence and good disposition he was a better companion than the rough seamen who formed the crew of theDolphin. The only other person who need be named was Sam Stokes, an old sailor who had fought under Blake and Admiral Penn, had made half a dozen voyages to Virginia and the West India Islands, besides to many others in different parts of the world. He was rough enough to look at, being the colour of mahogany, his countenance wrinkled and furrowed by strong winds and hot suns. He was quiet in his manners, seemed kind-hearted, with plenty of sense under his bald head and its fringe of grizzled hair. He was an excellent seaman, and took a pleasure in instructing Roger, who always went to him when he wanted information. He would tell him not only how to do a thing, but the why and the wherefore each thing was done, so that Roger made rapid progress under his tuition. Of the mates and boatswain little need be said; they were tolerable seamen, but the first two were but poor navigators, and the boatswain could not take an observation or work a day’s work, being unable to read or write, though he was the best seaman of the three. The crew were rough-and-ready fellows, were tolerably obedient when they were well treated and liquor was kept out of their way; but if anything was done to displease them, they were ready to grumble and try to right themselves after their own fashion. The two mates and the boatswain, who constituted the officers of the ship, were somewhat jealous of Stephen and Roger, whom they considered unduly favoured by the owners. Neither of them, however, took any notice of this. Roger’s great object had been from the first to master all the details of seamanship. From morning till night he was at work getting the seamen to show him how to knot and splice, to steer and reef; whenever sail was to be made or taken in he was always on the yard, and as active as any one, so that he soon gained the respect of the seamen. It was a great advantage to him and Stephen to have fine weather for so long a period, though they made but slow progress on their voyage, but it enabled them to gain experience far more easily than they would have done had the sea been rough and the ship tumbling about. Owing to light and contrary winds, five weeks had passed before theDolphingot into the latitude of the Straits, nearly a hundred miles to the westward of them.“When, Captain Roberts, think you, shall we be into the Mediterranean?” asked Stephen, who had been examining the chart.“That must depend on the way the wind blows,” answered the Captain. “It has been out of temper with us for a precious long time, and I cannot say when it is likely to get into a better humour.”The Captain was right not to be too sanguine; before an hour had passed the wind shifted to the east-north-east. TheDolphin, close-hauled under larboard tack, stood towards the African coast.“What about Algerine corsairs, the Sallee rovers?” asked Roger.“If we fall in with any of the gentry, as our business is to trade not to fight, we must run if we can; but if they come up with us, we must show what British pluck can do, and beat them off,” said the Captain.“As little honour is to be gained, we may hope not to encounter any of the gentlemen,” said Stephen.TheDolphinhad been standing on to the south-east, a course which would take her some way to the southward of the Straits. Captain Roberts said he hoped that a tack or two would enable him to fetch the Straits, and once through them, that they should get a fair wind up the Mediterranean. Evening was approaching when the look-out from aloft shouted, “A sail on the weather-bow.”“What does she look like?” asked the Captain.“She’s a large craft, standing to the south-west, under all sail.”The stranger’s course would bring her directly down upon theDolphin. Captain Roberts was provided with a telescope, an instrument not long introduced at sea, which many merchant vessels did not possess. Taking it with him, for he was not willing to intrust to the hands of any one else, he went aloft, steadying it against the mast; while he stood in the maintop, he took a long gaze at the stranger. Returning on deck, he immediately ordered the ship to be kept away, so as to bring her before the wind. All sail which she could possibly carry was set, some hanging down from the yards, rigged across the bowsprit to the very water, while stud-sails were rigged out on the foremast, and the sheet of the huge mizzen was eased off, and the sail bulged out with the freshening breeze.“What do you think of the stranger, sir?” asked Stephen of the Captain.“I deem her to be an Algerine, one of those piratical craft we were but just now speaking of. She’s a large ship, more than twice our size, and probably carries heavy guns, and four or five times as many men as we do; we might beat her off, and if she comes up to us, that is what we must try to do, but it will be wiser to keep ahead of her. We shall soon see which is the fastest craft, and what chance we have of running out of her sight. We have the advantage of night coming on, and during the darkness we must alter our course so as to give her the slip.” All hands were on deck at their stations, ready to shorten sail should it be necessary. Many an eye was turned towards the stranger to ascertain if she was getting nearer.“What do you think about it, Sam?” asked Roger of the old sailor.“Yonder craft is light, and we are heavily laden, though I will allow that theDolphinslips along at a good rate; but there is no doubt that she is gaining on us, though a stern chase is a long one. We may keep ahead of her for some hours to come, always provided we do not carry anything away.”“But if she does come up with us, what shall we have to do?” asked Roger.“Beat her off, of course, though we have only eight guns, and may be she carries twenty or more; we must work ours twice as fast as she does hers. I know those Algerine cut-throats of yore; and if they are met bravely, they quickly show the white feather. It is only when the Christians cry out ‘Peccavi!’ and seem inclined to give in, that they become wonderfully brave, and shout and shriek and wave their scimitars. I was with the brave Captain Harman, aboard the twenty-six-gun shipGuernsey, with a crew of a hundred and ten men all told, when we fell in up the Straits with an Algerine man-of-war, carrying fifty guns and five hundred men, called theWhite Horse. She stood down upon us, under all sail, having the weather-gauge, and as soon as she got within gunshot began blazing away. Several times she attempted to board, but we drove back her cut-throat crew, though the rest of her people were blazing away at us with musketry from her poop and forecastle. I believe we should have taken her, but our captain received three musket balls in his body, and was nearly knocked over by a gunshot; still he would not go below, and remained on deck till he sank from loss of blood. Our first lieutenant then took the command, and we continued engaging for another hour or more, till we had lost nine killed and three times as many wounded, for no one ever thought of giving in—that meant having our throats cut or being carried off into slavery; but at last the Algerine hauled off. Our rigging was too much cut about to allow us to follow, so she got away with the loss of not far short of a third of her crew, I suspect, from the number we saw hove overboard. Our brave captain died three days afterwards from the effects of his wounds, and the first lieutenant was promoted, as he deserved to be. Now, it is my belief that if we do not capture yonder craft, should she attack us, we may beat her off just as we did theWhite Horse.”Old Sam told this story in a loud voice, so that his shipmates might hear and be encouraged to resist to the last.Captain Roberts walked the poop, every now and then taking a glance at the stranger through his telescope. Stephen and Roger joined him there. He looked calm and determined.“If I can, I intend to avoid fighting,” he said; “but if we are attacked, I know I can rely on you two, as I have seen what stuff you are made of. You will do your best to keep the crew at their guns; and should anything happen to me, you will fight the ship as long as there is a shot in the locker or a charge of powder remains. I wish I had more confidence in my mates; but I am afraid that they have not the hearts of chickens, though they are good seamen, for I have been trying to make them understand that it is safer to fight than to yield, for if we give in, one and all of us will be knocked on the head or carried into slavery, so that it will be far better to let the ship sink under us than to strike our colours.”Stephen and Roger fully agreed with the Captain, and promised to do their best to keep their men at the guns. At length the sun went down, his last rays shining on the lofty canvas of the stranger, now about two miles astern; still theDolphinmight keep ahead. Darkness came on, but with the darkness the chance of escaping increased. At length the dim outline of their pursuer alone could be seen against the sky. Those on board theDolphinwell knew that while she was visible to them, they must also be seen by her, and that it would be useless to attempt altering their course. They therefore kept on as before. The Captain kept his eye upon her, hoping that some change of the atmosphere might occur to hide her from sight, but that dark phantom-like form grew more and more distinct.“My lads,” cried the Captain, “before another half-hour has passed she will be up with us. Have your matches ready, and fire as soon as I give the word; do not wait for further orders, but load as fast as you can, and blaze away at her hull. The Moors, if I mistake not, will soon have had enough of it; they are not fond of attacking vessels when they meet with opposition.”Roger felt his heart beat quick when shortly after this he saw the ship’s white-spread sails, towering towards the sky, come ranging up on their quarter.“Down with the helm,” cried the Captain. “Now, lads, fire!” TheDolphinsent a raking broadside aboard the Algerine, and the helm being immediately put up again, she stood on her former course. Shrieks and cries and groans came from the deck of the enemy, followed immediately by a broadside intended to rake theDolphin. Though several shot came on board, no one was hurt. Captain Roberts knew, however, that he could not expect to execute the same manoeuvre with the like success. In a short time the Algerine was close abreast of her. All theDolphin’sguns had been run over to the same side, and were now fired as rapidly as the crew could load and run them out. The enemy, however, were not idle, and their shot came crashing aboard; first one man was shot down, then another, still the British crew cheered, and kept blazing away. This sort of work had been going on for some time, when the Captain shouted, “Look out, lads! Boarders; repel boarders!” And the Algerine was seen ranging up so as to fall alongside, her rigging crowded with figures, arms and weapons waving, showing their eagerness for the fight. In another minute there came a loud crash, and a number of her crew, led by their captain. Most of them were cut down, others driven overboard, or back into their ship, the grappling-irons were cast loose, while theDolphinrushed forward on her former course. Still her after-guns were plied vigorously, though the enemy, again ranging up abreast, fired her broadsides in return. As far as Roger could perceive, the mates behaved well, assisting the men to work the guns. The Captain continued to cheer them on, and presently Roger, who was standing not far off, blazing away with his musket, saw him stagger, hurried to his assistance barely in time to save him before he fell on the deck.“Are you hurt, sir?” he asked.“I am afraid somewhat badly. Do not let the men know it. Help me to the bulwarks, where I can hold on.”He called Stephen, who was also loading and firing as fast as he could, to come and help him. The Captain continued, wounded as he was, to cheer on the men. Several more broadsides were exchanged, the bullets all the time flying about like hail, when the pirate’s bows were seen to be turning from them. Presently she hauled her wind, and stood away to the southward. The British crew on this raised a hearty cheer as they sent a few last shot flying after her. Scarcely had the shout died away than the brave Captain sank down on the deck.“We must carry him below and see to his wounds,” said Stephen, and Roger called Sam Stokes and another man to their assistance.“Tell the mate to stand on till he loses sight of the pirate, and then haul to the northward,” whispered the Captain in a faint voice. He could say no more. As soon as he was placed in his berth, Stephen and Roger did their best to doctor him, but they were unaccustomed to surgical operations.“Let me see what I can do,” said Sam. “I have had half-a-dozen bullets in my body during my time, and seen hundreds of men wounded, so I ought to have a little notion.” So he set to work in a methodical way to discover what had become of the bullet which had entered the Captain’s side. He managed to find it, and, what was of great consequence, the cloth which had been carried in at the same time, and got them out, then stopped the blood and bound up the wound.“Cannot say how he will do, but I have done my best, and can do no more,” observed old Sam as he left the cabin to look after some of his wounded messmates.Three men had been killed and five wounded out of the crew, which greatly reduced their strength. The first mate, who now took command, hauled up to the northward, as the Captain had directed him. As theDolphinhad been running for so many hours out of her course, she was considerably to the southward of the Straits, though the mate asserted that they would be able to fetch the entrance of the Straits if the wind held the following day. Nothing more was seen of the Algerine during the night, and hopes were entertained that she would not again attempt to molest them. The Captain, notwithstanding that the bullet had been extracted, continued in a very weak state, and almost unconscious. Stephen and Roger, not trusting to the mate’s navigation, got out the chart, marked down the course they had run to the best of their knowledge, and the next morning took an observation, which placed theDolphinconsiderably to the southward. Whereon the mate asserted that she was much nearer the coast, in fact she had been sailing almost parallel with it for a considerable distance, and soon after noon he put the ship about and steered due east.“I think, sir, that to sight the rock of Gibraltar we should be steering north-east,” observed Stephen, pointing to the chart.“Ho, ho, young man, you fancy that you understand navigation better than I do,” said the mate. “Just keep your remarks to yourself till I request you to make them.”Stephen could say no more, but he and Roger agreed, when the first mate went below, they would try to get the second to alter the ship’s course. The first mate seemed to suspect their intentions, for he remained on deck, and when the wind drew more from the east which it did shortly after noon, kept the ship away to the south-east.“The fellow will be running us on shore, or we shall be falling in with some Sallee rovers, for we cannot be far off their coast by this time,” said Stephen. “I think we had better have a talk with Sam Stokes, and hear his opinion.”Sam, although no navigator, was perfectly inclined to agree with them.“If the Captain was himself, we might get orders to put you under arrest, for it might be a serious affair if we did so and fell in with a man-of-war; we should be accused of mutiny and intending to turn pirates,” observed Sam.Roger, however, was strongly of opinion that they ought to make the mate again tack to the northward. They again spoke to him on the subject, and warned him of the danger he was running. He laughed scornfully, and again told them to mind their own business, asserting that they had nothing whatever to do with the navigation of the ship. On this they applied to the second mate and boatswain, and did their best to alarm them. They were still speaking on the subject, and had some hope of success, when the first mate came up and inquired what they were talking about.“This is mutiny, downright mutiny!” he exclaimed, and without more ado he ordered the second mate and boatswain to lash their arms behind them and carry them into the cabin.“I do not wish to be hard with you, but I will not have my authority disputed, and you youngsters will remain there till I can prove to you that I am right and you are wrong.”Though they protested loudly at this treatment, the mate would not listen to them; they had therefore to submit. In the evening Jumbo brought supper to them, but he said that he was ordered not to hold any conversation, but to come away again as soon as he had placed the supper before them.“But how is the ship going; what course is she steering?” asked Stephen.“Bery well as far as me make out,” answered Jumbo. “Sometimes steer east-south-east, sometimes south-east.”“Well, tell the men that that course will carry us on shore before daylight to-morrow morning,” said Stephen.“Me tink dey break dis nigger’s head if he stop talking,” said Jumbo, hurrying away in a great fright.As their arms had been released, as soon as they had had their supper, being pretty well tired with the exertions which they had made the previous night, they lay down, and in spite of the danger they considered the ship was in.After some time Roger woke, and going to the door of the cabin, found to his surprise that Jumbo had not locked it. Anxious to know how the ship was steering, he went up on deck, hoping not to be perceived by either of the mates. Getting a glimpse at the compass, he found that the ship was still steering south-east, and that the wind had become very light; the boatswain had charge of the deck. He knew by examining the sailing directions that strong currents set in towards the coast thereabouts, and should the wind shift to the westward, he even fancied, as he looked over the bulwarks, that he could see the distant land. He accordingly went back to Stephen, and rousing him up, asked him to come on deck. Stephen immediately hurried up with him.“If the wind shifts to the westward, it will not be long before we are on the shore,” said Stephen boldly to the boatswain.“Who told you?” asked the boatswain in a somewhat anxious tone.“My own sense,” answered Stephen.Scarcely had he spoken than the wind, which had dropped almost to a calm, shifted suddenly to the westward, and began to blow with considerable force.“All hands shorten sail,” shouted the boatswain, and the crew came tumbling up from below. The mates turned out of their berths, and the first mate looked with much astonishment at the state of affairs. The mate now saw that the ship’s head must be put to the northward, and under diminished canvas he endeavoured to haul off shore. The wind blew harder and harder. Not half-an-hour had elapsed when a loud grating sound was heard.“Down with the helm!” shouted the mate. It was too late; the ship would not come about, but drove on till she stuck hard and fast with her broadside to the sea. Stephen and Roger hurried into the cabin to secure some important papers, also to see what could be done for the poor Captain, should the ship go to pieces. They had fancied him unconscious, but he had been aroused by the sound of the ship striking, the meaning of which he knew too well.“Battiscombe,” he said, “help me on deck. I know what has happened, and that mate of mine has been the cause of it. I must see what can be done.”Though he was very weak they did as he directed them. His appearance tended to restore order.“Men,” he said, in as loud a voice as he could speak, “your lives depend upon obeying my directions. Battiscombe, you and Willoughby lower a boat, and carry a line ashore with you. Take Stokes and Jumbo with you. The rest of us must remain and try to get the ship afloat.”They did as he told them. The boat being lowered, they carried a long rope so as to form a communication with the shore, that should the worst come, those who remained on board might have a chance of gaining it. They had got within fifty fathoms, when a roller came in and capsized the boat, and sent them all struggling into the water. Stephen, who was a good swimmer, struck out, calling to Roger and the rest to follow him, and in a few seconds his feet touched the sand. He scrambled out, but on looking round, what was his horror not to discover Roger! He saw Sam Stokes and Jumbo strike out for the land. He gazed for a moment towards where the boat had been capsized, when he saw a head and arms rise amid the surf. Darting forward, he breasted the waves, and soon caught hold of the person he had seen. It was Roger, who, on being hauled on shore, quickly came to himself. Together they managed to rescue the seamen, but the boat was knocked to pieces, and the end of the rope lost. They could now neither return nor help those on board to reach the shore. The wind was increasing, clouds covered the sky, and they lost sight of the vessel in the thick spray and darkness. Roger proposed lighting a fire as a signal to those on board, but no driftwood could be discovered, and the fierce gale would soon have scattered the ashes had they made the attempt. They shouted at the top of their voices.“It is no use in exhausting your strength,” observed old Sam. “In the teeth of this hurricane our voices cannot travel half the distance to the wreck.”Finding at length that they could do nothing on the beach, they sought for shelter under the lee of a sandhill, where, being exhausted by their exertions, they soon fell asleep.

Several months had passed away, during which Stephen Battiscombe and Roger Willoughby had performed their duties in the counting-house at Bristol much to the satisfaction of their employers. Roger had not abandoned his wish of going to sea, though he was too wise to give up his present situation till a good opportunity should offer. He had, while passing along the quay, observed a house with a large wooden quadrant over the door, and on inquiry he found that a certain master-mariner, Captain Trickett, who gave lessons in astronomy and navigation, resided there. He made bold to enter, and explaining his wish to master the subjects the captain taught, soon entered into an arrangement to attend three evenings a week.

“I promise you, lad, before the winter is over, to turn you out as good a navigator as Sir Francis Drake, Master John Hawkins, or any other sea-captain you may be pleased to name,” said the old captain. “Give your mind to it, that is the first requisite; it is of little use for an instructor to put information in one ear which pops out at the other as soon as it is received.”

Captain Trickett was an enthusiast in his art, had been pilot in his youth to several expeditions which had gone forth from England to explore foreign regions, and had many strange accounts to give of the buccaneers and logwood cutters in the Caribbean Sea, where he himself had spent some time. Roger made considerable progress in his studies, and at length persuaded Stephen Battiscombe to accompany him.

“It would not be lost time if you also were to take some lessons and were to try to master the subject; it is very interesting, and perchance some day, if you have to sail on business to foreign lands, you may find the knowledge you acquire of use,” said Roger. “Captain Trickett tells me that he has known instances where the officers of a ship have died, and no one on board remained capable of taking her into port.”

Thus instigated, Stephen, who had a very good head for mathematics, readily attended the instruction of Captain Trickett, and following the Captain’s advice by giving his mind to the subject, soon acquired as much knowledge as Roger himself. On holidays, when the sun was up in the sky, the Captain delighted to accompany his pupils to some open space, where, with the aid of a false horizon, he could teach them practically how to take an observation or to “shoot the sun,” as he called it. The mode in which the two lads were employing themselves came to the ears of the principals of the firm, who much approved of their diligence and industry.

“Would that we had others like you!” said Mr Kempson. “Our difficulty is to find men who combine knowledge of business with that of seamanship and navigation. After a few voyages, if Captain Trickett does not speak of you in too laudatory terms, you will be able to take charge of a ship to sail either to the West Indies or to the North American plantations, or to the coast of Africa, or to the Levant. We will take care, in the meantime, that you have opportunities of exercising your skill.”

Roger and Stephen thanked the worthy merchant for the approval he had bestowed on them, and promised to continue as diligent as heretofore.

Roger often went down to the river to inquire what vessels had arrived, in the hopes of meeting with Captain Benbow, who he felt sure would receive him on board his ship, but theBenbowfrigate did not make her appearance. He heard, however, that she had been met with bound for the Thames, so that he had the satisfaction of knowing that she had escaped the gale which caught her off the Dorsetshire coast. He was told, indeed, that she always traded between London and foreign ports, and that there was very little probability of her putting into Bristol, unless she should obtain a cargo from any merchants connected with that port, which was not likely, as they always reserved their freights for Bristol vessels.

“I must hope for some other chance of meeting him,” said Roger to Stephen as they were walking home. “I do not think he can have forgotten me, and he appeared to be a man who, having made a promise, would certainly keep to it, so that if I could fall in with his ship I should not hesitate to go on board and ask him to take me.”

“You are very well off where you are,” remarked Stephen, “and I would advise you to stick to the desk till you have gained a thorough knowledge of mercantile affairs. You may then have an opportunity of turning them to good account, whereas at present you scarcely know enough to be of much use to you.”

Roger could not but acknowledge that this was the case, and he wisely determined to quell his impatience and to go on as he had begun.

They both occasionally received letters from home, which seldom, however, contained much matter of interest except to themselves. More frequently news came from London of important public matters. They heard of the Rye-house Plot, of the fall of Shaftesbury and of his escape to Holland, the execution of Russell and Sydney, the death of Essex by his own hand in the Tower, to escape the fate awaiting him. Roger took but little interest in politics; Stephen, on the contrary, was always eager to read theNews-Letterwhen it arrived from the capital. He mourned over the banishment of the Duke of Monmouth, who, after the discovery of the Rye-house Plot, though forgiven by the King, thought it prudent to retire to Holland; and he was indignant at hearing of the way the Duke of York was ruling Scotland, of the odious laws he had passed, and of the barbarous punishments he caused to be inflicted, often himself being present when prisoners were subjected to torture. It was said that he watched the agony of the sufferers as if it afforded him intense satisfaction.

“His tyrannical proceedings show clearly how he intends to govern England. Should he succeed to the throne of England, he must never be allowed to mount it,” exclaimed Stephen. “He will not be content till he has crushed out our civil and religious liberties, which the best blood of our country has been shed to obtain. Would that when the gallant Duke of Monmouth came to the west, the thousands who greeted him had banded together and marched to London to insist on the exclusion of the Duke of York and the nomination of Monmouth as heir to his father.”

“Such a proceeding could scarcely have succeeded without bloodshed,” observed Roger.

“Better to have shed a few streamlets then than the rivers which may have to flow should the tyrant gain the throne,” answered Stephen.

The opinions of Stephen Battiscombe were held by a good many others, although, like wise men, when they could not benefit the cause they did not utter them in public. Bristol having had fighting enough in former years, they did not again wish to see war brought to her gates. Stephen might at present safely entertain his opinions, but there seemed no chance just then of his having an opportunity of practically acting on them.

The summer had commenced, when one morning Mr Kempson sent for Stephen.

“You know, Battiscombe, that we have a new vessel, theDolphin, fitting out in the river, and judging from the intelligence you have shown and your aptitude for business that you will be well suited for the office, we propose sending you out as supercargo, and as young Roger Willoughby has given us satisfaction, we think of letting him go as cabin-boy that he may assist you. Are you willing to undertake the office?”

“With all my heart,” answered Stephen; “and I can answer for Willoughby, who will, I know, be delighted, for he has long wished to go to sea.”

“We will consider that matter settled, then,” said Mr Kempson. “Here is a list of the cargo we intend shipping, and you and Willoughby will go on board to-morrow morning, and note each case and bale as it is lowered into the hold. You will also be supplied with samples of all the goods, so that you will be well acquainted with the articles under your charge. I will give you further directions by and by. In the meantime you can see about young Willoughby’s outfit and your own, and tell Mr Tape the tailor to send in the account to us.”

Stephen was highly pleased with the complimentary way the senior partner spoke to him, and he was about to leave the room eager to tell Roger the good news, when a strongly-built black-bearded man entered.

“Stay, Battiscombe,” said the senior partner; “I will take this opportunity of introducing you to Captain Roberts, who commands theDolphin, as you will be shipmates for some months, or longer.”

“Happy to make the young gentleman’s acquaintance,” said the Captain, putting out his hand and giving Stephen a grip which nearly wrung his fingers off; “hope we shall get on well together. I came up here, Mr Kempson, to say that the ship is ready to take in cargo as soon as you are ready to ship it.”

“We may say to-morrow, then, and Mr Battiscombe, with young Willoughby to assist him, will go on board and take charge of the cargo.”

As the Captain had some further business to transact with Mr Kempson, Stephen took his leave, and hurried out to tell Roger, who was just leaving the counting-house for the day.

“What, are we really to be off soon!” exclaimed the latter. “I can scarcely believe the good news you tell me. I little thought when I got off my high stool, that it was the last time I was to mount it, for I suppose that theDolphinwill sail as soon as the cargo is received on board.”

“Little doubt about that,” said Stephen. “The sooner we see to getting our outfits the better.”

“I have brought a good store of things from home,” said Roger.

“You have outgrown a good lot of them, I should think,” remarked Stephen; “and we will at once pay a visit to Mr Tape, who will know more or less what you require.”

“But how are they to be paid for?” asked Roger.

“Mr Kempson will settle that,” said Stephen.

“He is very kind and generous, and I am grateful to him,” said Roger.

They at once carried out their intentions.

The following morning by daybreak they went on board theDolphin. As none of the cargo had arrived, they had time to look over the ship, and to take a glance round the cabin which was to be their home for some months to come. It was fitted up with several berths, besides a state cabin intended for the Captain’s use. There were arms of various sorts, such as musketoons, pistols, pikes, and hangers, fixed against the after-bulkhead, and there was a table in the centre, surrounded by strong wooden chairs. There was not much in the way of ornament, everything seemed intended for use.

While they were there the Captain, who had come on board, entered the cabin. “Glad to see you so soon, young gentlemen,” he observed; “it is the early bird that gets the worm,” as they say. “I thought that we should very likely have to wait for you, but now when the cargo comes down we may begin stowing away at once.”

In a short time a number of trucks arrived on the wharf, bringing bales and packages, which the crew began hoisting on board with the help of a crane and whips. The process was a somewhat long one compared to the rapid way in which vessels are laden at the present day. Stephen and Roger had plenty of time to note each bale, package, and cask before it was lowered into the hold, it being Roger’s business to see where each was stowed, so that they might be got at when required. They worked on diligently, knocking off only for a short time to dine, so that in the afternoon, when Mr Kempson came down, they had made good progress. He commended them accordingly. Roger, as he looked at the pile of goods, wondered how room could be found for them on board, yet after all the cases had been stowed away in the capacious hold, there was plenty of room left for more. In three days, however, the cargo was complete, the hatches were put on and fastened down, and Captain Roberts announced that he was ready for sea. Stephen and Roger had but little time to get their things, to run round and bid their friends farewell; their last visit was to Captain Trickett.

“Farewell, my boys, and a prosperous voyage to you!” he said, as he shook their hands warmly. “You may meet with adventures, some not as pleasant as you would desire, but stick to your duty, never say die, and hope for the best.”

That evening theDolphinbegan to drop down the river with the tide. She was a fine vessel, not so large, Roger thought, as theBenbowfrigate, but she had three masts, with a long mizzen-yard, on which a triangular sail was set. She was deep-waisted, with a high poop, and topgallant forecastle, from beneath each of which two guns were so placed that should boarders gain the deck, they would be quickly shot down. She had, besides, eight guns pointing out at the sides, and was able to defend herself against any ordinary enemies; indeed, in those days when pirates and buccaneers abounded, it was necessary for merchant vessels which had rich freights to guard to be well-armed, especially when they sailed alone, without convoy of a man-of-war. As the wind was from the northward, as soon as they got clear of the Severn all sail was hoisted, and they stood down the British Channel, and Roger walked the deck with no little satisfaction at finding himself at length on board ship. The following day they were out of sight of land. When Roger saw the Captain and his mates bring up their quadrants on deck just before noon to make an observation, he brought up his, and began in a methodical way to make preparations for taking one also.

“What, youngster, have you been at sea before?” asked the Captain.

“No, sir, but I have studied navigation, and I want to put my knowledge into practice.”

“Well, now is the time; let us see how you do it.”

Roger “shot the sun” in very good style; not only did that, but rapidly worked out the calculation on a small piece of paper, and it exactly agreed with that taken by the Captain, who looked well pleased, but it differed from that of one of the mates, who had made a mistake.

“You will do, my boy,” said Captain Roberts. “I will try you with other observations by and by. Where did you get your knowledge?” Roger told him. “What, from old Trickett? No wonder you are correct; there is not a better navigator in Bristol.”

Next day Stephen brought out his quadrant and did justice to his instructor, he also receiving a due amount of praise from the Captain. The mates looked rather jealous at the two youngsters, who had never before been to sea, who took observations as well as they could. Before theDolphinhad got half-way across the Bay of Biscay it fell calm, and she lay laving her sides in the smooth water, as the swell, which is seldom wanting there, passed under her keel. For many hours she did not move her position; the big mizzen, which had been flapping with reports like thunder, was furled; the other sails were brailed up. Roger, who was always of a social disposition, took the opportunity of having a talk with some of the crew. Among them was a black, who, although still very young, being scarcely more than a boy, had met with many strange adventures,—among others, he had been made prisoner by the Moors. He could talk Arabic, he said, as well as English, which was not, by the by, very correctly. He was called Jack Jumbo on board, but he preferred being called Felix, a name, he told Roger, some gentlemen had given him because he was always a merry fellow. He hinted that he had been a prince in his own country, but he had been carried away at an early age; he did not know much about it. Roger took a great liking to him, for from his intelligence and good disposition he was a better companion than the rough seamen who formed the crew of theDolphin. The only other person who need be named was Sam Stokes, an old sailor who had fought under Blake and Admiral Penn, had made half a dozen voyages to Virginia and the West India Islands, besides to many others in different parts of the world. He was rough enough to look at, being the colour of mahogany, his countenance wrinkled and furrowed by strong winds and hot suns. He was quiet in his manners, seemed kind-hearted, with plenty of sense under his bald head and its fringe of grizzled hair. He was an excellent seaman, and took a pleasure in instructing Roger, who always went to him when he wanted information. He would tell him not only how to do a thing, but the why and the wherefore each thing was done, so that Roger made rapid progress under his tuition. Of the mates and boatswain little need be said; they were tolerable seamen, but the first two were but poor navigators, and the boatswain could not take an observation or work a day’s work, being unable to read or write, though he was the best seaman of the three. The crew were rough-and-ready fellows, were tolerably obedient when they were well treated and liquor was kept out of their way; but if anything was done to displease them, they were ready to grumble and try to right themselves after their own fashion. The two mates and the boatswain, who constituted the officers of the ship, were somewhat jealous of Stephen and Roger, whom they considered unduly favoured by the owners. Neither of them, however, took any notice of this. Roger’s great object had been from the first to master all the details of seamanship. From morning till night he was at work getting the seamen to show him how to knot and splice, to steer and reef; whenever sail was to be made or taken in he was always on the yard, and as active as any one, so that he soon gained the respect of the seamen. It was a great advantage to him and Stephen to have fine weather for so long a period, though they made but slow progress on their voyage, but it enabled them to gain experience far more easily than they would have done had the sea been rough and the ship tumbling about. Owing to light and contrary winds, five weeks had passed before theDolphingot into the latitude of the Straits, nearly a hundred miles to the westward of them.

“When, Captain Roberts, think you, shall we be into the Mediterranean?” asked Stephen, who had been examining the chart.

“That must depend on the way the wind blows,” answered the Captain. “It has been out of temper with us for a precious long time, and I cannot say when it is likely to get into a better humour.”

The Captain was right not to be too sanguine; before an hour had passed the wind shifted to the east-north-east. TheDolphin, close-hauled under larboard tack, stood towards the African coast.

“What about Algerine corsairs, the Sallee rovers?” asked Roger.

“If we fall in with any of the gentry, as our business is to trade not to fight, we must run if we can; but if they come up with us, we must show what British pluck can do, and beat them off,” said the Captain.

“As little honour is to be gained, we may hope not to encounter any of the gentlemen,” said Stephen.

TheDolphinhad been standing on to the south-east, a course which would take her some way to the southward of the Straits. Captain Roberts said he hoped that a tack or two would enable him to fetch the Straits, and once through them, that they should get a fair wind up the Mediterranean. Evening was approaching when the look-out from aloft shouted, “A sail on the weather-bow.”

“What does she look like?” asked the Captain.

“She’s a large craft, standing to the south-west, under all sail.”

The stranger’s course would bring her directly down upon theDolphin. Captain Roberts was provided with a telescope, an instrument not long introduced at sea, which many merchant vessels did not possess. Taking it with him, for he was not willing to intrust to the hands of any one else, he went aloft, steadying it against the mast; while he stood in the maintop, he took a long gaze at the stranger. Returning on deck, he immediately ordered the ship to be kept away, so as to bring her before the wind. All sail which she could possibly carry was set, some hanging down from the yards, rigged across the bowsprit to the very water, while stud-sails were rigged out on the foremast, and the sheet of the huge mizzen was eased off, and the sail bulged out with the freshening breeze.

“What do you think of the stranger, sir?” asked Stephen of the Captain.

“I deem her to be an Algerine, one of those piratical craft we were but just now speaking of. She’s a large ship, more than twice our size, and probably carries heavy guns, and four or five times as many men as we do; we might beat her off, and if she comes up to us, that is what we must try to do, but it will be wiser to keep ahead of her. We shall soon see which is the fastest craft, and what chance we have of running out of her sight. We have the advantage of night coming on, and during the darkness we must alter our course so as to give her the slip.” All hands were on deck at their stations, ready to shorten sail should it be necessary. Many an eye was turned towards the stranger to ascertain if she was getting nearer.

“What do you think about it, Sam?” asked Roger of the old sailor.

“Yonder craft is light, and we are heavily laden, though I will allow that theDolphinslips along at a good rate; but there is no doubt that she is gaining on us, though a stern chase is a long one. We may keep ahead of her for some hours to come, always provided we do not carry anything away.”

“But if she does come up with us, what shall we have to do?” asked Roger.

“Beat her off, of course, though we have only eight guns, and may be she carries twenty or more; we must work ours twice as fast as she does hers. I know those Algerine cut-throats of yore; and if they are met bravely, they quickly show the white feather. It is only when the Christians cry out ‘Peccavi!’ and seem inclined to give in, that they become wonderfully brave, and shout and shriek and wave their scimitars. I was with the brave Captain Harman, aboard the twenty-six-gun shipGuernsey, with a crew of a hundred and ten men all told, when we fell in up the Straits with an Algerine man-of-war, carrying fifty guns and five hundred men, called theWhite Horse. She stood down upon us, under all sail, having the weather-gauge, and as soon as she got within gunshot began blazing away. Several times she attempted to board, but we drove back her cut-throat crew, though the rest of her people were blazing away at us with musketry from her poop and forecastle. I believe we should have taken her, but our captain received three musket balls in his body, and was nearly knocked over by a gunshot; still he would not go below, and remained on deck till he sank from loss of blood. Our first lieutenant then took the command, and we continued engaging for another hour or more, till we had lost nine killed and three times as many wounded, for no one ever thought of giving in—that meant having our throats cut or being carried off into slavery; but at last the Algerine hauled off. Our rigging was too much cut about to allow us to follow, so she got away with the loss of not far short of a third of her crew, I suspect, from the number we saw hove overboard. Our brave captain died three days afterwards from the effects of his wounds, and the first lieutenant was promoted, as he deserved to be. Now, it is my belief that if we do not capture yonder craft, should she attack us, we may beat her off just as we did theWhite Horse.”

Old Sam told this story in a loud voice, so that his shipmates might hear and be encouraged to resist to the last.

Captain Roberts walked the poop, every now and then taking a glance at the stranger through his telescope. Stephen and Roger joined him there. He looked calm and determined.

“If I can, I intend to avoid fighting,” he said; “but if we are attacked, I know I can rely on you two, as I have seen what stuff you are made of. You will do your best to keep the crew at their guns; and should anything happen to me, you will fight the ship as long as there is a shot in the locker or a charge of powder remains. I wish I had more confidence in my mates; but I am afraid that they have not the hearts of chickens, though they are good seamen, for I have been trying to make them understand that it is safer to fight than to yield, for if we give in, one and all of us will be knocked on the head or carried into slavery, so that it will be far better to let the ship sink under us than to strike our colours.”

Stephen and Roger fully agreed with the Captain, and promised to do their best to keep their men at the guns. At length the sun went down, his last rays shining on the lofty canvas of the stranger, now about two miles astern; still theDolphinmight keep ahead. Darkness came on, but with the darkness the chance of escaping increased. At length the dim outline of their pursuer alone could be seen against the sky. Those on board theDolphinwell knew that while she was visible to them, they must also be seen by her, and that it would be useless to attempt altering their course. They therefore kept on as before. The Captain kept his eye upon her, hoping that some change of the atmosphere might occur to hide her from sight, but that dark phantom-like form grew more and more distinct.

“My lads,” cried the Captain, “before another half-hour has passed she will be up with us. Have your matches ready, and fire as soon as I give the word; do not wait for further orders, but load as fast as you can, and blaze away at her hull. The Moors, if I mistake not, will soon have had enough of it; they are not fond of attacking vessels when they meet with opposition.”

Roger felt his heart beat quick when shortly after this he saw the ship’s white-spread sails, towering towards the sky, come ranging up on their quarter.

“Down with the helm,” cried the Captain. “Now, lads, fire!” TheDolphinsent a raking broadside aboard the Algerine, and the helm being immediately put up again, she stood on her former course. Shrieks and cries and groans came from the deck of the enemy, followed immediately by a broadside intended to rake theDolphin. Though several shot came on board, no one was hurt. Captain Roberts knew, however, that he could not expect to execute the same manoeuvre with the like success. In a short time the Algerine was close abreast of her. All theDolphin’sguns had been run over to the same side, and were now fired as rapidly as the crew could load and run them out. The enemy, however, were not idle, and their shot came crashing aboard; first one man was shot down, then another, still the British crew cheered, and kept blazing away. This sort of work had been going on for some time, when the Captain shouted, “Look out, lads! Boarders; repel boarders!” And the Algerine was seen ranging up so as to fall alongside, her rigging crowded with figures, arms and weapons waving, showing their eagerness for the fight. In another minute there came a loud crash, and a number of her crew, led by their captain. Most of them were cut down, others driven overboard, or back into their ship, the grappling-irons were cast loose, while theDolphinrushed forward on her former course. Still her after-guns were plied vigorously, though the enemy, again ranging up abreast, fired her broadsides in return. As far as Roger could perceive, the mates behaved well, assisting the men to work the guns. The Captain continued to cheer them on, and presently Roger, who was standing not far off, blazing away with his musket, saw him stagger, hurried to his assistance barely in time to save him before he fell on the deck.

“Are you hurt, sir?” he asked.

“I am afraid somewhat badly. Do not let the men know it. Help me to the bulwarks, where I can hold on.”

He called Stephen, who was also loading and firing as fast as he could, to come and help him. The Captain continued, wounded as he was, to cheer on the men. Several more broadsides were exchanged, the bullets all the time flying about like hail, when the pirate’s bows were seen to be turning from them. Presently she hauled her wind, and stood away to the southward. The British crew on this raised a hearty cheer as they sent a few last shot flying after her. Scarcely had the shout died away than the brave Captain sank down on the deck.

“We must carry him below and see to his wounds,” said Stephen, and Roger called Sam Stokes and another man to their assistance.

“Tell the mate to stand on till he loses sight of the pirate, and then haul to the northward,” whispered the Captain in a faint voice. He could say no more. As soon as he was placed in his berth, Stephen and Roger did their best to doctor him, but they were unaccustomed to surgical operations.

“Let me see what I can do,” said Sam. “I have had half-a-dozen bullets in my body during my time, and seen hundreds of men wounded, so I ought to have a little notion.” So he set to work in a methodical way to discover what had become of the bullet which had entered the Captain’s side. He managed to find it, and, what was of great consequence, the cloth which had been carried in at the same time, and got them out, then stopped the blood and bound up the wound.

“Cannot say how he will do, but I have done my best, and can do no more,” observed old Sam as he left the cabin to look after some of his wounded messmates.

Three men had been killed and five wounded out of the crew, which greatly reduced their strength. The first mate, who now took command, hauled up to the northward, as the Captain had directed him. As theDolphinhad been running for so many hours out of her course, she was considerably to the southward of the Straits, though the mate asserted that they would be able to fetch the entrance of the Straits if the wind held the following day. Nothing more was seen of the Algerine during the night, and hopes were entertained that she would not again attempt to molest them. The Captain, notwithstanding that the bullet had been extracted, continued in a very weak state, and almost unconscious. Stephen and Roger, not trusting to the mate’s navigation, got out the chart, marked down the course they had run to the best of their knowledge, and the next morning took an observation, which placed theDolphinconsiderably to the southward. Whereon the mate asserted that she was much nearer the coast, in fact she had been sailing almost parallel with it for a considerable distance, and soon after noon he put the ship about and steered due east.

“I think, sir, that to sight the rock of Gibraltar we should be steering north-east,” observed Stephen, pointing to the chart.

“Ho, ho, young man, you fancy that you understand navigation better than I do,” said the mate. “Just keep your remarks to yourself till I request you to make them.”

Stephen could say no more, but he and Roger agreed, when the first mate went below, they would try to get the second to alter the ship’s course. The first mate seemed to suspect their intentions, for he remained on deck, and when the wind drew more from the east which it did shortly after noon, kept the ship away to the south-east.

“The fellow will be running us on shore, or we shall be falling in with some Sallee rovers, for we cannot be far off their coast by this time,” said Stephen. “I think we had better have a talk with Sam Stokes, and hear his opinion.”

Sam, although no navigator, was perfectly inclined to agree with them.

“If the Captain was himself, we might get orders to put you under arrest, for it might be a serious affair if we did so and fell in with a man-of-war; we should be accused of mutiny and intending to turn pirates,” observed Sam.

Roger, however, was strongly of opinion that they ought to make the mate again tack to the northward. They again spoke to him on the subject, and warned him of the danger he was running. He laughed scornfully, and again told them to mind their own business, asserting that they had nothing whatever to do with the navigation of the ship. On this they applied to the second mate and boatswain, and did their best to alarm them. They were still speaking on the subject, and had some hope of success, when the first mate came up and inquired what they were talking about.

“This is mutiny, downright mutiny!” he exclaimed, and without more ado he ordered the second mate and boatswain to lash their arms behind them and carry them into the cabin.

“I do not wish to be hard with you, but I will not have my authority disputed, and you youngsters will remain there till I can prove to you that I am right and you are wrong.”

Though they protested loudly at this treatment, the mate would not listen to them; they had therefore to submit. In the evening Jumbo brought supper to them, but he said that he was ordered not to hold any conversation, but to come away again as soon as he had placed the supper before them.

“But how is the ship going; what course is she steering?” asked Stephen.

“Bery well as far as me make out,” answered Jumbo. “Sometimes steer east-south-east, sometimes south-east.”

“Well, tell the men that that course will carry us on shore before daylight to-morrow morning,” said Stephen.

“Me tink dey break dis nigger’s head if he stop talking,” said Jumbo, hurrying away in a great fright.

As their arms had been released, as soon as they had had their supper, being pretty well tired with the exertions which they had made the previous night, they lay down, and in spite of the danger they considered the ship was in.

After some time Roger woke, and going to the door of the cabin, found to his surprise that Jumbo had not locked it. Anxious to know how the ship was steering, he went up on deck, hoping not to be perceived by either of the mates. Getting a glimpse at the compass, he found that the ship was still steering south-east, and that the wind had become very light; the boatswain had charge of the deck. He knew by examining the sailing directions that strong currents set in towards the coast thereabouts, and should the wind shift to the westward, he even fancied, as he looked over the bulwarks, that he could see the distant land. He accordingly went back to Stephen, and rousing him up, asked him to come on deck. Stephen immediately hurried up with him.

“If the wind shifts to the westward, it will not be long before we are on the shore,” said Stephen boldly to the boatswain.

“Who told you?” asked the boatswain in a somewhat anxious tone.

“My own sense,” answered Stephen.

Scarcely had he spoken than the wind, which had dropped almost to a calm, shifted suddenly to the westward, and began to blow with considerable force.

“All hands shorten sail,” shouted the boatswain, and the crew came tumbling up from below. The mates turned out of their berths, and the first mate looked with much astonishment at the state of affairs. The mate now saw that the ship’s head must be put to the northward, and under diminished canvas he endeavoured to haul off shore. The wind blew harder and harder. Not half-an-hour had elapsed when a loud grating sound was heard.

“Down with the helm!” shouted the mate. It was too late; the ship would not come about, but drove on till she stuck hard and fast with her broadside to the sea. Stephen and Roger hurried into the cabin to secure some important papers, also to see what could be done for the poor Captain, should the ship go to pieces. They had fancied him unconscious, but he had been aroused by the sound of the ship striking, the meaning of which he knew too well.

“Battiscombe,” he said, “help me on deck. I know what has happened, and that mate of mine has been the cause of it. I must see what can be done.”

Though he was very weak they did as he directed them. His appearance tended to restore order.

“Men,” he said, in as loud a voice as he could speak, “your lives depend upon obeying my directions. Battiscombe, you and Willoughby lower a boat, and carry a line ashore with you. Take Stokes and Jumbo with you. The rest of us must remain and try to get the ship afloat.”

They did as he told them. The boat being lowered, they carried a long rope so as to form a communication with the shore, that should the worst come, those who remained on board might have a chance of gaining it. They had got within fifty fathoms, when a roller came in and capsized the boat, and sent them all struggling into the water. Stephen, who was a good swimmer, struck out, calling to Roger and the rest to follow him, and in a few seconds his feet touched the sand. He scrambled out, but on looking round, what was his horror not to discover Roger! He saw Sam Stokes and Jumbo strike out for the land. He gazed for a moment towards where the boat had been capsized, when he saw a head and arms rise amid the surf. Darting forward, he breasted the waves, and soon caught hold of the person he had seen. It was Roger, who, on being hauled on shore, quickly came to himself. Together they managed to rescue the seamen, but the boat was knocked to pieces, and the end of the rope lost. They could now neither return nor help those on board to reach the shore. The wind was increasing, clouds covered the sky, and they lost sight of the vessel in the thick spray and darkness. Roger proposed lighting a fire as a signal to those on board, but no driftwood could be discovered, and the fierce gale would soon have scattered the ashes had they made the attempt. They shouted at the top of their voices.

“It is no use in exhausting your strength,” observed old Sam. “In the teeth of this hurricane our voices cannot travel half the distance to the wreck.”

Finding at length that they could do nothing on the beach, they sought for shelter under the lee of a sandhill, where, being exhausted by their exertions, they soon fell asleep.

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