Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.Alice at Daisy Cottage—A Boat’s Crew Capsized—Pick up Dicky Sharpe—Our Friendship Commenced.I may as well say that my uncle got a fair round sum for the salvage of the good ship thePoictiers, and a very welcome addition to his year’s pay. Our passengers went on shore at Portsmouth, and as soon as we arrived there, I thought I was to see no more of them, when, having accompanied them to the door of the George Hotel, I was about to bid them farewell.“What! we are not going to part yet,” said Mr Marlow. “Come in, young gentleman—come in.”There was the usual bustle consequent on the arrival of a party at an inn. It soon subsided. Rooms were selected, and we found ourselves seated in a parlour, which looked doubly comfortable after the deck of the dismasted ship and the small cabin of the cutter.“You will come and dine with us to-day, Mr D’Arcy; and I must beg you to convey an invitation to your uncle,” said Mr Marlow.As midshipmen are not always their own masters, I had to explain that I would, if I could; though I did not think my uncle would refuse me leave. I was not disappointed; and at six o’clock I found myself seated at Mr Marlow’s dinner-table, and opposite my Commander. I thought the little lady, Miss Alice, still looked very much fatigued.“She is scarcely yet fit to perform the journey to London,” observed her father. “Still I am anxious to be there, and must also visit Liverpool in the course of a few days.”“If you will allow her to remain with Mrs O’Flaherty, I can answer for my wife being most happy to receive her,” said my uncle.To my great joy, though I was afraid of showing if, Mr Marlow at once acceded to the proposal.“I will, then, bring Mrs O’Flaherty over to fetch her,” added my uncle. “You will, I suspect, agree very well, Miss Alice.”“Indeed, my dear sir, you are laying me under a tenfold obligation,” said Mr Marlow. “All our connections are, I believe, in the North, and in dreary London there is no one with whom I could leave the dear child.”I don’t remember the rest of our conversation. I know that I discussed a very good dinner; and that same evening we got under weigh and ran over to Ryde, and my uncle went up to Daisy Cottage. The next morning my aunt accompanied him on board, and we returned to Portsmouth. She received little Alice, as I knew she would, most kindly, and before many hours had passed they became great friends; and, to make a long story short, Miss Marlow became an inmate for several weeks of Daisy Cottage.We were lying one day soon after this in Portsmouth Harbour, off Haslar Creek, ready to start for the westward. It was Sunday. My uncle had gone over to Ryde, and I was in hopes of getting across in the afternoon to visit my aunt and her guest. I had turned out in full fig; and while all the people were below dressing for muster, I walked the deck as officer of the watch, with my spy-glass under my arm, looking out for the signal from the flag-ship to make it eight-bells. I felt very important, but I have reasons to doubt whether I looked proportionably consequential. All the ships in the harbour and at Spithead ran up their bunting at the same moment; and I had just belayed our signal halliards when I saw a boat, crowded with seamen and marines, putting off from a frigate lying right ahead of us. The tide was running strong out of the harbour. A young midshipman was at the helm, and he did not seem to have made due allowance for the strength of the current. The consequence was that the boat drifted down some way below the intended place of landing, and while he was putting her head up the harbour to regain his lost ground, her keel struck the mast of a barge which had sunk the day before, and which scarcely showed above the water. In an instant over she went, and the people in her were spilt out into the eddying, rushing tide-way. Some struck out for the shore, a few clung on the boat, and others came drifting down helplessly with the current.So suddenly had the accident occurred, that I had not a moment to consider what was best to be done, nor to call any one from below. Fortunately we had a punt alongside. Casting off the painter, I jumped into her, and shoved off to where three men were struggling, close ahead of the cutter. I caught hold of one who was just sinking, and hauled him over the bows, while the other two got in without my help. I looked round to see what had become of the rest of the people. Two marines were clinging to the keel of the boat, and she was on the point of striking our stern, by which she would have been carried under our bottom, when I sculled alongside and got the two jollies on board. By the glance I had had at her just before, I observed that another person had been with them, while, as I was getting in the three first men, a cry for help had reached my ears.“Oh! sir, there’s Mr — gone, poor fellow!” exclaimed one of the marines saved. “There he is, though!”Directly under the water, where he pointed, I saw a head of hair or a bunch of seaweed, I could not tell which; but, on the chance of its being the former, I sculled up to it. The sun shone forth brightly, and I caught a glimpse of a human face convulsed with agony beneath the tide. Twice it eluded me; but stretching out my arm, and almost going overboard and capsizing our already over-crowded boat, I got firm hold of a person by the hair, who, I saw, had a midshipman’s patch on the collar of his jacket. I had some difficulty in getting the seemingly lifeless body of my brother officer into the boat.Seeing that there was no one else to be saved—for several boats had shoved off from the shore and vessels at anchor near at hand to pick up the rest of the people—I paddled my nearly sinking boat alongside the cutter. Hearing my hail as I jumped into the punt, the crew had rushed on deck, and were standing ready to hand on board the half-drowned midshipman and the men I had been the means of saving. The latter were none the worse for their ducking, except that their clothes were wettish.“You’ll want a clean shirt, mate,” said one of our people to a Patlander from the frigate.“Arrah! now didn’t I put a dry one in my pocket this blessed morning; so it will be all handy for me,” he exclaimed, diving into the recesses of his dripping peacoat.The midshipman, who was still insensible, was, by Hanks’ advice, carried down into the gun-room. We were unwilling to run the risk of the delay which must have occurred had he been conveyed on board his own ship.“Bring a glass of hot grog; and let it be pretty stiff, steward!” said Hanks, as we were engaged in stripping our patient and putting him into my berth between the blankets.We then set to work to rub his body with a coarse worsted sock, the first suitable thing which came to hand. Having got some of the salt water he had swallowed out of his mouth, Hanks poured a little warm grog into it instead. This, with the rubbing, had the effect of speedily restoring animation. In a few minutes he opened his eyes, and tried to sit up and look about him.“Hillo! where am I? I say, are the poor fellows all picked up?” he asked, in a weak tone.I liked him at once for thinking of his men.“All right, mate,” I answered; “no harm has come of the capsize, except a few wet jackets.”Just then, on looking round, I saw a man, who by his uniform I knew to be a naval surgeon, standing near me. “So I see you’ve saved me my work, gentlemen,” he said, smiling. “You could not have acted better than you appear to have done; and, thanks to you, we shall soon have him all right again.”“Thank’ee, Doctor, I’ve come round pretty well already,” sung out the midshipman. “But, I say, mate, I just want another glass of your stuff. It’s prime physic.”The medico smelt the tumbler, which stood on the table full of grog, and then felt the youngster’s pulse and looked at his tongue.“You may take half a glass—it’s quite enough for you, and then we’ll have you wrapped up in blankets, and carried on board,” he answered.“Oh, thank’ee, Doctor, I’m very comfortable where I am, and my clothes ain’t dried yet; so if you’ll let me stay here, I think it would be the better for me,” said the midshipman.The Doctor’s objections, if he had any, were soon overruled; and, telling the midshipman to return on board the frigate as soon as his clothes were dry, he quitted the cutter.“What’s your name, mate?” asked my new friend, as he was sipping his glass of grog.I told him.“Mine’s Richard Sharpe; but I’m mostly called Dicky Sharpe,” he answered. “Some of my messmates give me all sorts of names; but I don’t mind them. As long as they don’t cob me, it’s all very well. I’m a happy fellow, and ready for all the ups and downs of life. I’m pretty well wide awake, and know my duty, so I don’t often get mast-headed. If I happen to get a fall, I generally manage to pitch on my feet; and as I’m some day or other to come into a fortune, I’m not troubled about the future. If the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty give me my promotion, it will be all very well; if not, why they’ll have to dispense with my valuable services, and the country will be the loser.”I was highly edified by Master Dicky’s philosophy, and I at once conceived a great regard and respect for him.“Now, D’Arcy, my boy,” he continued, in his free and easy tone, “it’s stupid work lying here between the blankets; so if you’ll just give me the loan of some of your toggery till mine are dry, I’ll sit up at table and crack a bottle of wine with you.”I had to remind him of the early hour, and to confess that wine our mess did not possess, but that he should have some breakfast and hot tea, which would be better for him, and that he should be welcome to my clothes.While he was seated at table, Hanks, who had gone on deck to see the medico off, returned. “Well, D’Arcy, I told him how you had saved the youngster and the other men,” he said. “It will be a feather in your cap, my lad, and you deserve to wear it.”“What!” exclaimed my volatile young friend, grasping my hand, while the tears came into his eyes, “you saved me from drowning. On my word, I’m very much obliged to you. I shouldn’t like to have become food for fishes just yet. I’d rather eat a few dinners off them first.”“Oh, faith, I could not have done less if you’d been only a sheep or a pig,” I answered, laughing; “so you’ve little to thank me for.”“I suppose, though, even a sheep or a pig would have tried to show their gratitude, unless you had intended to turn them into mutton and pork directly afterwards,” replied Dicky Sharpe. “So, D’Arcy, I must look upon you as my friend and preserver; and I just wish, when you can get leave, that you would come down and see my governor and mother and sisters. They won’t make much of you, won’t they, that’s all.”I told him that I should be very glad to accept his invitation if I could; but at the time I was thinking that my aunt and Miss Alice would admire the feather Hanks said I might wear in my cap more than anybody else. I never met a merrier or more contented fellow than Dicky Sharpe. I was quite sorry to lose him when his clothes were dry and a boat came alongside to take him on board his ship, theCynthia, What was my surprise to receive by her, at the same time, a note from the captain of the frigate, inviting me to dine with him on the following day, stating that he wished to thank me for the presence of mind I had displayed in saving the lives of one of his midshipmen and several of his people.“I’m glad to hear it,” exclaimed Hanks. “It shows your talents are not hid under a bushel; and now get away over to Ryde with that note in your pocket, and explain its meaning in the best way you can.”I jumped into a wherry just then passing, and in less than an hour landed at Ryde Pier, whence I found my way up to Daisy Cottage. My aunt was delighted to hear my story, which, I flatter myself, I told with all the innate modesty of an Irishman. Alice, I thought, blushed her approval most sweetly; and my uncle congratulated me warmly. I spent a very pleasant evening, some of the time walking with Alice on the shore, and resting under the trees, which come almost close down to the water’s edge. I found that I could not dine with Captain Bruff, as we were to sail next morning for the westward; so I was obliged to be content with the empty honour of the invitation; and, I dare say, my absence did not break his heart. I was more sorry to miss seeing Dicky Sharpe again, as I should have liked to have had another palaver with him; and before our return theCynthiawould probably have sailed.

I may as well say that my uncle got a fair round sum for the salvage of the good ship thePoictiers, and a very welcome addition to his year’s pay. Our passengers went on shore at Portsmouth, and as soon as we arrived there, I thought I was to see no more of them, when, having accompanied them to the door of the George Hotel, I was about to bid them farewell.

“What! we are not going to part yet,” said Mr Marlow. “Come in, young gentleman—come in.”

There was the usual bustle consequent on the arrival of a party at an inn. It soon subsided. Rooms were selected, and we found ourselves seated in a parlour, which looked doubly comfortable after the deck of the dismasted ship and the small cabin of the cutter.

“You will come and dine with us to-day, Mr D’Arcy; and I must beg you to convey an invitation to your uncle,” said Mr Marlow.

As midshipmen are not always their own masters, I had to explain that I would, if I could; though I did not think my uncle would refuse me leave. I was not disappointed; and at six o’clock I found myself seated at Mr Marlow’s dinner-table, and opposite my Commander. I thought the little lady, Miss Alice, still looked very much fatigued.

“She is scarcely yet fit to perform the journey to London,” observed her father. “Still I am anxious to be there, and must also visit Liverpool in the course of a few days.”

“If you will allow her to remain with Mrs O’Flaherty, I can answer for my wife being most happy to receive her,” said my uncle.

To my great joy, though I was afraid of showing if, Mr Marlow at once acceded to the proposal.

“I will, then, bring Mrs O’Flaherty over to fetch her,” added my uncle. “You will, I suspect, agree very well, Miss Alice.”

“Indeed, my dear sir, you are laying me under a tenfold obligation,” said Mr Marlow. “All our connections are, I believe, in the North, and in dreary London there is no one with whom I could leave the dear child.”

I don’t remember the rest of our conversation. I know that I discussed a very good dinner; and that same evening we got under weigh and ran over to Ryde, and my uncle went up to Daisy Cottage. The next morning my aunt accompanied him on board, and we returned to Portsmouth. She received little Alice, as I knew she would, most kindly, and before many hours had passed they became great friends; and, to make a long story short, Miss Marlow became an inmate for several weeks of Daisy Cottage.

We were lying one day soon after this in Portsmouth Harbour, off Haslar Creek, ready to start for the westward. It was Sunday. My uncle had gone over to Ryde, and I was in hopes of getting across in the afternoon to visit my aunt and her guest. I had turned out in full fig; and while all the people were below dressing for muster, I walked the deck as officer of the watch, with my spy-glass under my arm, looking out for the signal from the flag-ship to make it eight-bells. I felt very important, but I have reasons to doubt whether I looked proportionably consequential. All the ships in the harbour and at Spithead ran up their bunting at the same moment; and I had just belayed our signal halliards when I saw a boat, crowded with seamen and marines, putting off from a frigate lying right ahead of us. The tide was running strong out of the harbour. A young midshipman was at the helm, and he did not seem to have made due allowance for the strength of the current. The consequence was that the boat drifted down some way below the intended place of landing, and while he was putting her head up the harbour to regain his lost ground, her keel struck the mast of a barge which had sunk the day before, and which scarcely showed above the water. In an instant over she went, and the people in her were spilt out into the eddying, rushing tide-way. Some struck out for the shore, a few clung on the boat, and others came drifting down helplessly with the current.

So suddenly had the accident occurred, that I had not a moment to consider what was best to be done, nor to call any one from below. Fortunately we had a punt alongside. Casting off the painter, I jumped into her, and shoved off to where three men were struggling, close ahead of the cutter. I caught hold of one who was just sinking, and hauled him over the bows, while the other two got in without my help. I looked round to see what had become of the rest of the people. Two marines were clinging to the keel of the boat, and she was on the point of striking our stern, by which she would have been carried under our bottom, when I sculled alongside and got the two jollies on board. By the glance I had had at her just before, I observed that another person had been with them, while, as I was getting in the three first men, a cry for help had reached my ears.

“Oh! sir, there’s Mr — gone, poor fellow!” exclaimed one of the marines saved. “There he is, though!”

Directly under the water, where he pointed, I saw a head of hair or a bunch of seaweed, I could not tell which; but, on the chance of its being the former, I sculled up to it. The sun shone forth brightly, and I caught a glimpse of a human face convulsed with agony beneath the tide. Twice it eluded me; but stretching out my arm, and almost going overboard and capsizing our already over-crowded boat, I got firm hold of a person by the hair, who, I saw, had a midshipman’s patch on the collar of his jacket. I had some difficulty in getting the seemingly lifeless body of my brother officer into the boat.

Seeing that there was no one else to be saved—for several boats had shoved off from the shore and vessels at anchor near at hand to pick up the rest of the people—I paddled my nearly sinking boat alongside the cutter. Hearing my hail as I jumped into the punt, the crew had rushed on deck, and were standing ready to hand on board the half-drowned midshipman and the men I had been the means of saving. The latter were none the worse for their ducking, except that their clothes were wettish.

“You’ll want a clean shirt, mate,” said one of our people to a Patlander from the frigate.

“Arrah! now didn’t I put a dry one in my pocket this blessed morning; so it will be all handy for me,” he exclaimed, diving into the recesses of his dripping peacoat.

The midshipman, who was still insensible, was, by Hanks’ advice, carried down into the gun-room. We were unwilling to run the risk of the delay which must have occurred had he been conveyed on board his own ship.

“Bring a glass of hot grog; and let it be pretty stiff, steward!” said Hanks, as we were engaged in stripping our patient and putting him into my berth between the blankets.

We then set to work to rub his body with a coarse worsted sock, the first suitable thing which came to hand. Having got some of the salt water he had swallowed out of his mouth, Hanks poured a little warm grog into it instead. This, with the rubbing, had the effect of speedily restoring animation. In a few minutes he opened his eyes, and tried to sit up and look about him.

“Hillo! where am I? I say, are the poor fellows all picked up?” he asked, in a weak tone.

I liked him at once for thinking of his men.

“All right, mate,” I answered; “no harm has come of the capsize, except a few wet jackets.”

Just then, on looking round, I saw a man, who by his uniform I knew to be a naval surgeon, standing near me. “So I see you’ve saved me my work, gentlemen,” he said, smiling. “You could not have acted better than you appear to have done; and, thanks to you, we shall soon have him all right again.”

“Thank’ee, Doctor, I’ve come round pretty well already,” sung out the midshipman. “But, I say, mate, I just want another glass of your stuff. It’s prime physic.”

The medico smelt the tumbler, which stood on the table full of grog, and then felt the youngster’s pulse and looked at his tongue.

“You may take half a glass—it’s quite enough for you, and then we’ll have you wrapped up in blankets, and carried on board,” he answered.

“Oh, thank’ee, Doctor, I’m very comfortable where I am, and my clothes ain’t dried yet; so if you’ll let me stay here, I think it would be the better for me,” said the midshipman.

The Doctor’s objections, if he had any, were soon overruled; and, telling the midshipman to return on board the frigate as soon as his clothes were dry, he quitted the cutter.

“What’s your name, mate?” asked my new friend, as he was sipping his glass of grog.

I told him.

“Mine’s Richard Sharpe; but I’m mostly called Dicky Sharpe,” he answered. “Some of my messmates give me all sorts of names; but I don’t mind them. As long as they don’t cob me, it’s all very well. I’m a happy fellow, and ready for all the ups and downs of life. I’m pretty well wide awake, and know my duty, so I don’t often get mast-headed. If I happen to get a fall, I generally manage to pitch on my feet; and as I’m some day or other to come into a fortune, I’m not troubled about the future. If the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty give me my promotion, it will be all very well; if not, why they’ll have to dispense with my valuable services, and the country will be the loser.”

I was highly edified by Master Dicky’s philosophy, and I at once conceived a great regard and respect for him.

“Now, D’Arcy, my boy,” he continued, in his free and easy tone, “it’s stupid work lying here between the blankets; so if you’ll just give me the loan of some of your toggery till mine are dry, I’ll sit up at table and crack a bottle of wine with you.”

I had to remind him of the early hour, and to confess that wine our mess did not possess, but that he should have some breakfast and hot tea, which would be better for him, and that he should be welcome to my clothes.

While he was seated at table, Hanks, who had gone on deck to see the medico off, returned. “Well, D’Arcy, I told him how you had saved the youngster and the other men,” he said. “It will be a feather in your cap, my lad, and you deserve to wear it.”

“What!” exclaimed my volatile young friend, grasping my hand, while the tears came into his eyes, “you saved me from drowning. On my word, I’m very much obliged to you. I shouldn’t like to have become food for fishes just yet. I’d rather eat a few dinners off them first.”

“Oh, faith, I could not have done less if you’d been only a sheep or a pig,” I answered, laughing; “so you’ve little to thank me for.”

“I suppose, though, even a sheep or a pig would have tried to show their gratitude, unless you had intended to turn them into mutton and pork directly afterwards,” replied Dicky Sharpe. “So, D’Arcy, I must look upon you as my friend and preserver; and I just wish, when you can get leave, that you would come down and see my governor and mother and sisters. They won’t make much of you, won’t they, that’s all.”

I told him that I should be very glad to accept his invitation if I could; but at the time I was thinking that my aunt and Miss Alice would admire the feather Hanks said I might wear in my cap more than anybody else. I never met a merrier or more contented fellow than Dicky Sharpe. I was quite sorry to lose him when his clothes were dry and a boat came alongside to take him on board his ship, theCynthia, What was my surprise to receive by her, at the same time, a note from the captain of the frigate, inviting me to dine with him on the following day, stating that he wished to thank me for the presence of mind I had displayed in saving the lives of one of his midshipmen and several of his people.

“I’m glad to hear it,” exclaimed Hanks. “It shows your talents are not hid under a bushel; and now get away over to Ryde with that note in your pocket, and explain its meaning in the best way you can.”

I jumped into a wherry just then passing, and in less than an hour landed at Ryde Pier, whence I found my way up to Daisy Cottage. My aunt was delighted to hear my story, which, I flatter myself, I told with all the innate modesty of an Irishman. Alice, I thought, blushed her approval most sweetly; and my uncle congratulated me warmly. I spent a very pleasant evening, some of the time walking with Alice on the shore, and resting under the trees, which come almost close down to the water’s edge. I found that I could not dine with Captain Bruff, as we were to sail next morning for the westward; so I was obliged to be content with the empty honour of the invitation; and, I dare say, my absence did not break his heart. I was more sorry to miss seeing Dicky Sharpe again, as I should have liked to have had another palaver with him; and before our return theCynthiawould probably have sailed.

Chapter Nine.A Chase—A Prize—Capture a French Smuggler—Our Prisoner’s Politeness—Do not Trust a Greek, even when Polite.At the hour I was asked to dine with Captain Bruff we were running out at the Needles, with a fresh breeze and a thick, drizzling rain, which called pea-coats and sou’westers into requisition. We cruised about for three or four days without seeing anything suspicious; not a tub afloat, nor a craft with a smuggling look about her. At last we found something to give us employment. One evening a mist settled down over the water, which, though there was a good breeze, was perfectly calm. Although the night was in no ways dark, yet the density of the fog prevented our seeing beyond the bowsprit end, or even so far. It was just such a night as a smuggler delights in. The cutter was on her old ground, off Portland Bill. We were slipping through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour, when Stretcher, who was standing close to me, exclaimed, “Ah! see there, sir; there’s a craft of some sort right away to leeward, trying to steal off from us.” I looked, and could just distinguish the shadowy form of a sail through the mist. The Commander was called, and the cutter was instantly kept away in chase. Jack pronounced her to be a wherry; but I thought her something much larger. The wind was from the southward, and she, choosing what was probably her best point of sailing, made for the English coast. She sailed well; but we kept her in sight, for daylight had just broke, and the mist had partially cleared away. As soon as my uncle came on deck he ordered a shot to be fired wide of her, to make her heave-to. She paid no attention to it.“Fire another, Stretcher, right into her this time, and we will make her show her quality,” said he.The mists had now cleared off sufficiently to show that she was a wherry, though rather a small one. The shot went through her foresail, but still she held on. She was heavily laden, and her crew must have seen that her chance of escape was small, if not impossible. To render this still more difficult, it was every instant growing lighter and lighter. There were numerous sharp eyes on board the cutter fixed on her, and we now perceived her crew heaving the tubs overboard as fast as they could. They fancied, probably, that we could not see them. There were no weights attached to them, so they floated; but as we had no time to stop and pick them up, we noted carefully our course as we passed them, so as to be able to find them again.“Fire away at her, my lads, till she heaves-to,” cried my uncle, seeing that she still held on.“Surely she’ll not get away from us,” I remarked to Jack.“Not so sure of that, Mr D’Arcy,” he answered. “Now she’s got her cargo out of her, should the wind fall on a sudden, and the fog come on thicker, she may contrive to hide herself away in it before we can get our boats out.”The fog deceived us as to her true distance from us, for after the first, none of our shot struck her, though that mattered nothing, for the breeze freshening, we were now coming up with her hand over hand.“Lower your canvas!” shouted my uncle, as we got near.Her people thought it wise to obey, to avoid the shot, which could not now well miss its aim. She was next ordered to pull alongside, which she immediately did; but there was not a symptom of a cask or keg of spirits in her. She had five hands in her. They were desired to come on board. One of them acknowledged himself the skipper.“We want to know why you chased and fired at us, sir,” he said, in the most innocent manner possible, addressing my uncle.“For having contraband goods on board,” he answered.“Lord love ye, sir—we have contraband goods aboard, sir!” replied the skipper, with a feigned look of surprise. “We was just taking our pleasuring, and didn’t know but what you was an enemy, or a pirate, or some chap of that sort, so we runned away, sir, do ye see.”“Very well; you’ll remain on board the cutter for the present, and perhaps I may prove to the contrary,” said my uncle.The smugglers were compelled, with a very bad grace, to go below; the wherry was dropped astern, and the cutter stood back over the ground we had before crossed. Before eight-bells we had picked up fifty tubs of brandy. As plenty of our people could swear that they saw a number of tubs thrown overboard from the wherry, there was no doubt of her being condemned. When our prisoners perceived that their escape was impossible, they seemed to screw themselves up to bear their reverses like brave men. Though somewhat down in the mouth, they apparently felt no ill-will, but were obedient and respectful. Luck was against them. They had tried to smuggle, and we, as in duty bound, had stopped them. The worst they had to expect was a few months’ residence in Winchester gaol. My uncle had each of them down separately in his cabin, to try and obtain any information they might be inclined to give, especially about Myers, whom he was most anxious to get hold of. From one of them he learned that a large lugger was to run across the following night but one, from Cherbourg; and he resolved to intercept her. A course was immediately shaped for that port. He had explained his plan to Hanks, who was to take the wherry with four hands and to keep a bright look-out for the lugger, and to board her if he met her, as soon as she was half-way across Channel. I obtained leave to accompany him, for though I could not be expected to do much while blows were being given and taken, I was considered a good hand at steering; and my uncle was glad to let me see as much service as possible, holding the opinion that in that way only could I become a good practical officer.When we had got about mid Channel between Saint Catharine’s and Cherbourg, the cutter was hove-to and the wherry hauled up alongside.“Success attend you,” said my uncle, as Hanks and I stepped into the wherry. “Mind, Mr Hanks, keep a sharp look-out for the lugger; but do not let anything else with a smuggling air about her escape unexamined.”“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Hanks, as we shored off. “I hope to get hold of the lugger, and Myers in her.”We had in the boat provisions for four or five days; cloaks, blankets, a compass, and lantern; with three muskets, and pistols and cutlasses for each person. Our directions were to cruise about for three days, should the weather remain moderate, and then to rejoin the cutter off the Needles. We started away with a light breeze and a smooth sea, and stood for a short way towards Cherbourg, while the cutter returned over part of the course she had come. The weather was very pleasant, and the sunbeams sparkled cheerily on the rippling wavelets caused by the meeting of the tide and wind, as we ran through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour. Hanks lighted his favourite short black pipe, such as in Ireland we should call a “dodeen.” He never indulged in a cigar, except one was given him. While he leaned back, with his legs stretched along the seats, I steered. I used to think it very hard that he would never let me smoke, but I have since been much obliged to him.“This is what I call comfort, Neil,” said he. “One of the smooths of life; but it won’t last, so let us enjoy it while we can. Before long we may be getting broken heads, with a gale of wind into the bargain.”So he smoked his pipe, took ever and anon a sip from the rum-bottle, sang a snatch from a song, and joked and talked away till the sun began to hasten his descent into the ocean. We were all the time keeping a look-out for any suspicious craft.At last the sails of a lugger appeared against the evening sky as she got clear of the land. We made sure it was the vessel we were in search of, and prepared for action.“D’Arcy, do you stay at the helm, and keep the wherry alongside, while the rest of us jump aboard,” said Hanks. “Stretcher, you must knock down the fellow at the helm; I’ll grapple with the skipper, if they show fight.”On came the lugger. I thought it very unlikely if Myers was on board, from his well-known character, that he would fail to show fight; indeed, it seemed much more probable that he would do his best to knock us all on the head, and heave us overboard again, should we manage to set foot on his deck. However, I said nothing, and felt just as eager for the fray as if such an idea had not crossed my mind.Hanks had been taking a steady look at the lugger through his spy-glass. “Well!” he exclaimed, “hang me if I don’t think, after all, that she’s one of those Frenchchasse marées. Our lugger hasn’t yet come out.”“D’ye think, sir, that they chaps was deceiving of us?” said Jack. “They be up to all sorts of dodges.”“Oh, hang it, no; I hope not,” answered Hanks, with considerable doubt, notwithstanding, in his tone. “The Commander cross-questioned them a great deal too close for them to deceive us. We shall see the right craft by-and-by.”We were soon convinced, however, that the lugger in sight was achasse marée. She hauled her wind, and stood along shore. Had she observed us she would probably have had no little suspicion of our business out there.After watching for the lugger to no purpose for three hours or more, the moon rose out of the dark water, and gave us a wider range of vision. Hour after hour passed away, and still she did not appear. We began at last to be afraid either that the smugglers had deceived us, or that she had slipped out and passed us unobserved. As our blockade might be somewhat long, Hanks divided the crew into watches; he taking command of one, and I of the other. When it was my turn to sleep, I rested as soundly as I usually did in my own berth, though I dreamed that I had caught sight of Myers, and that I was chasing him round and round the world with a pair of ten-league boots on my legs. How he kept ahead of me I could not tell. Hanks awoke me to take some breakfast, and then let me go to sleep again, for I was so drowsy that I could not keep my eyes open. While I was still more asleep than awake, I heard Jack’s voice exclaim—“That’s her, sir, I’ll take my davy.”“Yes, that’s her, and no mistake, this time,” added Hanks.I was on my feet in a moment, and looking towards the French coast, I saw a lugger about two miles off, running down to us. All hands were on the alert, and every preparation was made to ensure the success of our enterprise. We hauled our wind, and steered a course so as to intercept her, without, if possible, exciting the suspicion of the smugglers till we were alongside. As the sea was perfectly smooth and the wind light, we should have no difficulty in getting on board. Hanks, Jack, and I alone showed ourselves; the rest were ordered to lie down in the bottom of the boat. The lugger, we could see, was heavily laden, and her general appearance betokened her to be French.“Remember, my lads, we shall have to give and take some hard blows; but sharp’s the word, and she’ll be ours before her people know what we are after,” exclaimed Hanks, in an inspiriting tone. It was an exciting moment. As we drew near, we could count some twelve men or more on her deck. We were by this time well over on the British half of the Channel.“Keep her away a little, D’Arcy,” said Hanks. The smugglers had been watching us without apparently suspecting our intentions. “Now, hard up!—ease off the mainsheet!—hook on!—follow me, my lads!”As Hanks uttered the last words we had run alongside. The next moment he leaped over the bulwarks of the lugger on to her deck, and grappling with her captain, a Frenchman, tripped him up. Jack at the same time knocked down the man at the helm with a boat’s stretcher. There was a mighty deal of jabbering and swearing in French, and some round oaths uttered in English, when, as Hanks was working his way forward, some of the crew, plucking courage, made a rush, and, seizing him, bore him overboard, fortunately on the larboard side, on the same which the wherry was: small thanks to the smugglers on that account. We were going through the water, it must be remembered, though not very quick. Hanks made a desperate attempt to clamber on board again by the lugger’s forechains, but missed his aim; then, giving a glance of defiance at the rascals, he kept himself afloat while he sung out, “Hillo, D’Arcy, lend me a hand here!”Directly I saw what had happened I seized an oar, and thrust it out towards him. He grasped it as we passed by, and quickly clambered into the wherry. The moment after, with the stretcher, which he had never let out of his grasp, he was again on the lugger’s deck, belabouring both right and left those of the crew who still resisted. As none of the smugglers had seen him get out of the water, they were completely taken by surprise, and without striking another blow, sung out for quarter.“You don’t deserve it, you blackguards, for daring to resist a king’s officer in the execution of his duty,” cried Hanks, flourishing his stretcher. “But, forward with you, there, and don’t move till I give you leave.” The Frenchmen did not understand him, but the English smugglers did, and his action showed what he desired. The crew were soon penned up in the fore part of the vessel, with the exception of the captain and the man Jack had knocked down, who were sitting on deck rubbing their eyes, hardly yet recovered. Scarcely three minutes had passed since we ran alongside, and the lugger was ours. I was still in the boat, waiting for orders.“Come on board, D’Arcy,” said Hanks at length, looking over the side. “We’ll lower the wherry’s sails, and tow her astern.”I gladly jumped out of her when we had stowed her canvas and made fast the painter. Our prize turned out to be a valuable one, for she had not only spirits, but silk and lace on board. Her papers clearly proved also that these goods were intended to be smuggled, so I remember Hanks saying; but how that was I did not trouble myself, nor do I to this day know. The smugglers, as well as they might, were certainly sulky; and Hanks, as a gentle hint for them to behave themselves, stationed a man with a double-barrelled pistol in his hand close to them, while they stood huddled together on the little forecastle. I took the helm, while the sails were trimmed and a course shaped for the Needles. In a short time a breeze sprang up, and we spanked along at a furious rate. The French skipper had now recovered, and getting on his legs, with a polite bow, expressed a hope, in tolerable English, that we would make ourselves at home on board his vessel.“No fear of that, monsieur,” answered Hanks. “Cool, is he not, D’Arcy?”“You no have taken dinner, sare,” continued the skipper. “I will tell de cook to make dinner ready.”“Not a bad idea, monsieur,” said Hanks. “Which of you chaps is cook?”The Frenchman pointed to the fellow whose head Jack had nearly broken. He spoke a few words to him, and the man—having got up and stretched himself to ascertain, I suppose, that no bones were broken—dived below, and presently returned with a white cap and apron, and several pans and dishes, and began busying himself in the mysteries of his art. Again he dived, the fire in the forepeak burned up brightly, and savory smells began to ascend therefrom. In about an hour the skipper, with another bow, invited us into his little well-like cabin aft, where a collation, such as an epicure might envy, was placed before us. What were its component parts I did not inquire. They may have been cats and frogs, but neither Hanks nor I were in any way particular, and no dreadful surmises crossed my mind. An Englishman would have broached a keg of brandy, but our friend, Monsieur Didot, placed a bottle of fine-flavoured claret and a variety of first-rate liqueurs before us, not that either Hanks or I was well able to appreciate the former.“Come, monsieur, hand us out a bottle of some real stuff or other; I’m not fond of your pink vinegars,” exclaimed Hanks, as he tossed off a tumbler of the claret. “This isn’t bad for washing the dust out of a fellow’s throat on a hot day, but there’s no life-blood in it.”The skipper, with a twinkle of his eyes which betokened mischief, though unfortunately Hanks did not perceive it, produced a large square bottle, thick at the top, from which he poured out a glass of first-rate Scheidam. Hanks smacked his lips as he tasted it.“Take care, Neil, my child,” said he, “you don’t swallow much of that stuff; it’s too good. I’ll just smack at another glass, and then we’ll go on deck out of the way of temptation.”The Frenchman looked mightily disappointed when he saw that Hanks was not so easily taken in as he doubtless expected he would be. I happened to look round as we left the cabin, and saw him shrugging his shoulders and making hideous grimaces, and no very complimentary gestures at us. Before this little incident I had thought him the pink of politeness. He wore love-locks and rings in his ears, and was dressed with the most accurate French nautical precision; in fact he looked thoroughly unlike an English seaman. In his manners he was a very mild man, and certainly he had nothing of the ruffian about him. I cannot say as much for his crew, some of whom were very ill-looking dogs. It would have been wiser in Hanks to have handcuffed them all, including the skipper and cook (though we should thereby have gone without a good dinner), and stationed a sentry with a loaded musket over them, with orders to shoot the first who should attempt to escape.The French skipper, when he found that his plan to obfuscate the brains of the knowing old Hanks had totally failed, went and sat himself down forward among his people, apparently in a fit of the sulks.Hanks, who was in high spirits at the success of our enterprise, walked the deck with me, looking out for the high land of the Isle of Wight above the Needle rocks, which we were approaching. The breeze had increased and kicked up a little sea, and we were running fast through the water.“D’Arcy, my boy, this is a fine haul, isn’t it?” exclaimed my superior, rubbing his hands. “Credit and prize-money together. Both good things. When I was a youngster I thought something about the first; but now, do you see, Mrs Hanks and I have a fancy for t’other. It keeps the pot boiling, do ye see? I should think your uncle, by this time, was much of my way of thinking, though he’s a round number of years younger than I am.”“I’m not so sure of that,” said I. “My uncle thinks a good deal of gaining honour, and I believe he’d rather take an enemy’s frigate after a hard-fought action, than capture a Spanish galleon without a blow.”“Well, it’s the proper spirit,” said Hanks, with a sigh. “The revenue service don’t nourish it much, though. Take my advice; get out of it as soon as you can; or,” he continued with much feeling, “it will spoil you otherwise, depend on it.”We continued walking the deck for some time longer. We then sat down to rest, watching the coast, from which we were about three miles distant.Jack was at the helm, and the rest of our people were giving a hand to the sheets, as the wind had veered a little to the westward.The smugglers were seemingly fast asleep, with the exception of the skipper, who had lighted a cigar to console himself under his mishap.

At the hour I was asked to dine with Captain Bruff we were running out at the Needles, with a fresh breeze and a thick, drizzling rain, which called pea-coats and sou’westers into requisition. We cruised about for three or four days without seeing anything suspicious; not a tub afloat, nor a craft with a smuggling look about her. At last we found something to give us employment. One evening a mist settled down over the water, which, though there was a good breeze, was perfectly calm. Although the night was in no ways dark, yet the density of the fog prevented our seeing beyond the bowsprit end, or even so far. It was just such a night as a smuggler delights in. The cutter was on her old ground, off Portland Bill. We were slipping through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour, when Stretcher, who was standing close to me, exclaimed, “Ah! see there, sir; there’s a craft of some sort right away to leeward, trying to steal off from us.” I looked, and could just distinguish the shadowy form of a sail through the mist. The Commander was called, and the cutter was instantly kept away in chase. Jack pronounced her to be a wherry; but I thought her something much larger. The wind was from the southward, and she, choosing what was probably her best point of sailing, made for the English coast. She sailed well; but we kept her in sight, for daylight had just broke, and the mist had partially cleared away. As soon as my uncle came on deck he ordered a shot to be fired wide of her, to make her heave-to. She paid no attention to it.

“Fire another, Stretcher, right into her this time, and we will make her show her quality,” said he.

The mists had now cleared off sufficiently to show that she was a wherry, though rather a small one. The shot went through her foresail, but still she held on. She was heavily laden, and her crew must have seen that her chance of escape was small, if not impossible. To render this still more difficult, it was every instant growing lighter and lighter. There were numerous sharp eyes on board the cutter fixed on her, and we now perceived her crew heaving the tubs overboard as fast as they could. They fancied, probably, that we could not see them. There were no weights attached to them, so they floated; but as we had no time to stop and pick them up, we noted carefully our course as we passed them, so as to be able to find them again.

“Fire away at her, my lads, till she heaves-to,” cried my uncle, seeing that she still held on.

“Surely she’ll not get away from us,” I remarked to Jack.

“Not so sure of that, Mr D’Arcy,” he answered. “Now she’s got her cargo out of her, should the wind fall on a sudden, and the fog come on thicker, she may contrive to hide herself away in it before we can get our boats out.”

The fog deceived us as to her true distance from us, for after the first, none of our shot struck her, though that mattered nothing, for the breeze freshening, we were now coming up with her hand over hand.

“Lower your canvas!” shouted my uncle, as we got near.

Her people thought it wise to obey, to avoid the shot, which could not now well miss its aim. She was next ordered to pull alongside, which she immediately did; but there was not a symptom of a cask or keg of spirits in her. She had five hands in her. They were desired to come on board. One of them acknowledged himself the skipper.

“We want to know why you chased and fired at us, sir,” he said, in the most innocent manner possible, addressing my uncle.

“For having contraband goods on board,” he answered.

“Lord love ye, sir—we have contraband goods aboard, sir!” replied the skipper, with a feigned look of surprise. “We was just taking our pleasuring, and didn’t know but what you was an enemy, or a pirate, or some chap of that sort, so we runned away, sir, do ye see.”

“Very well; you’ll remain on board the cutter for the present, and perhaps I may prove to the contrary,” said my uncle.

The smugglers were compelled, with a very bad grace, to go below; the wherry was dropped astern, and the cutter stood back over the ground we had before crossed. Before eight-bells we had picked up fifty tubs of brandy. As plenty of our people could swear that they saw a number of tubs thrown overboard from the wherry, there was no doubt of her being condemned. When our prisoners perceived that their escape was impossible, they seemed to screw themselves up to bear their reverses like brave men. Though somewhat down in the mouth, they apparently felt no ill-will, but were obedient and respectful. Luck was against them. They had tried to smuggle, and we, as in duty bound, had stopped them. The worst they had to expect was a few months’ residence in Winchester gaol. My uncle had each of them down separately in his cabin, to try and obtain any information they might be inclined to give, especially about Myers, whom he was most anxious to get hold of. From one of them he learned that a large lugger was to run across the following night but one, from Cherbourg; and he resolved to intercept her. A course was immediately shaped for that port. He had explained his plan to Hanks, who was to take the wherry with four hands and to keep a bright look-out for the lugger, and to board her if he met her, as soon as she was half-way across Channel. I obtained leave to accompany him, for though I could not be expected to do much while blows were being given and taken, I was considered a good hand at steering; and my uncle was glad to let me see as much service as possible, holding the opinion that in that way only could I become a good practical officer.

When we had got about mid Channel between Saint Catharine’s and Cherbourg, the cutter was hove-to and the wherry hauled up alongside.

“Success attend you,” said my uncle, as Hanks and I stepped into the wherry. “Mind, Mr Hanks, keep a sharp look-out for the lugger; but do not let anything else with a smuggling air about her escape unexamined.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Hanks, as we shored off. “I hope to get hold of the lugger, and Myers in her.”

We had in the boat provisions for four or five days; cloaks, blankets, a compass, and lantern; with three muskets, and pistols and cutlasses for each person. Our directions were to cruise about for three days, should the weather remain moderate, and then to rejoin the cutter off the Needles. We started away with a light breeze and a smooth sea, and stood for a short way towards Cherbourg, while the cutter returned over part of the course she had come. The weather was very pleasant, and the sunbeams sparkled cheerily on the rippling wavelets caused by the meeting of the tide and wind, as we ran through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour. Hanks lighted his favourite short black pipe, such as in Ireland we should call a “dodeen.” He never indulged in a cigar, except one was given him. While he leaned back, with his legs stretched along the seats, I steered. I used to think it very hard that he would never let me smoke, but I have since been much obliged to him.

“This is what I call comfort, Neil,” said he. “One of the smooths of life; but it won’t last, so let us enjoy it while we can. Before long we may be getting broken heads, with a gale of wind into the bargain.”

So he smoked his pipe, took ever and anon a sip from the rum-bottle, sang a snatch from a song, and joked and talked away till the sun began to hasten his descent into the ocean. We were all the time keeping a look-out for any suspicious craft.

At last the sails of a lugger appeared against the evening sky as she got clear of the land. We made sure it was the vessel we were in search of, and prepared for action.

“D’Arcy, do you stay at the helm, and keep the wherry alongside, while the rest of us jump aboard,” said Hanks. “Stretcher, you must knock down the fellow at the helm; I’ll grapple with the skipper, if they show fight.”

On came the lugger. I thought it very unlikely if Myers was on board, from his well-known character, that he would fail to show fight; indeed, it seemed much more probable that he would do his best to knock us all on the head, and heave us overboard again, should we manage to set foot on his deck. However, I said nothing, and felt just as eager for the fray as if such an idea had not crossed my mind.

Hanks had been taking a steady look at the lugger through his spy-glass. “Well!” he exclaimed, “hang me if I don’t think, after all, that she’s one of those Frenchchasse marées. Our lugger hasn’t yet come out.”

“D’ye think, sir, that they chaps was deceiving of us?” said Jack. “They be up to all sorts of dodges.”

“Oh, hang it, no; I hope not,” answered Hanks, with considerable doubt, notwithstanding, in his tone. “The Commander cross-questioned them a great deal too close for them to deceive us. We shall see the right craft by-and-by.”

We were soon convinced, however, that the lugger in sight was achasse marée. She hauled her wind, and stood along shore. Had she observed us she would probably have had no little suspicion of our business out there.

After watching for the lugger to no purpose for three hours or more, the moon rose out of the dark water, and gave us a wider range of vision. Hour after hour passed away, and still she did not appear. We began at last to be afraid either that the smugglers had deceived us, or that she had slipped out and passed us unobserved. As our blockade might be somewhat long, Hanks divided the crew into watches; he taking command of one, and I of the other. When it was my turn to sleep, I rested as soundly as I usually did in my own berth, though I dreamed that I had caught sight of Myers, and that I was chasing him round and round the world with a pair of ten-league boots on my legs. How he kept ahead of me I could not tell. Hanks awoke me to take some breakfast, and then let me go to sleep again, for I was so drowsy that I could not keep my eyes open. While I was still more asleep than awake, I heard Jack’s voice exclaim—

“That’s her, sir, I’ll take my davy.”

“Yes, that’s her, and no mistake, this time,” added Hanks.

I was on my feet in a moment, and looking towards the French coast, I saw a lugger about two miles off, running down to us. All hands were on the alert, and every preparation was made to ensure the success of our enterprise. We hauled our wind, and steered a course so as to intercept her, without, if possible, exciting the suspicion of the smugglers till we were alongside. As the sea was perfectly smooth and the wind light, we should have no difficulty in getting on board. Hanks, Jack, and I alone showed ourselves; the rest were ordered to lie down in the bottom of the boat. The lugger, we could see, was heavily laden, and her general appearance betokened her to be French.

“Remember, my lads, we shall have to give and take some hard blows; but sharp’s the word, and she’ll be ours before her people know what we are after,” exclaimed Hanks, in an inspiriting tone. It was an exciting moment. As we drew near, we could count some twelve men or more on her deck. We were by this time well over on the British half of the Channel.

“Keep her away a little, D’Arcy,” said Hanks. The smugglers had been watching us without apparently suspecting our intentions. “Now, hard up!—ease off the mainsheet!—hook on!—follow me, my lads!”

As Hanks uttered the last words we had run alongside. The next moment he leaped over the bulwarks of the lugger on to her deck, and grappling with her captain, a Frenchman, tripped him up. Jack at the same time knocked down the man at the helm with a boat’s stretcher. There was a mighty deal of jabbering and swearing in French, and some round oaths uttered in English, when, as Hanks was working his way forward, some of the crew, plucking courage, made a rush, and, seizing him, bore him overboard, fortunately on the larboard side, on the same which the wherry was: small thanks to the smugglers on that account. We were going through the water, it must be remembered, though not very quick. Hanks made a desperate attempt to clamber on board again by the lugger’s forechains, but missed his aim; then, giving a glance of defiance at the rascals, he kept himself afloat while he sung out, “Hillo, D’Arcy, lend me a hand here!”

Directly I saw what had happened I seized an oar, and thrust it out towards him. He grasped it as we passed by, and quickly clambered into the wherry. The moment after, with the stretcher, which he had never let out of his grasp, he was again on the lugger’s deck, belabouring both right and left those of the crew who still resisted. As none of the smugglers had seen him get out of the water, they were completely taken by surprise, and without striking another blow, sung out for quarter.

“You don’t deserve it, you blackguards, for daring to resist a king’s officer in the execution of his duty,” cried Hanks, flourishing his stretcher. “But, forward with you, there, and don’t move till I give you leave.” The Frenchmen did not understand him, but the English smugglers did, and his action showed what he desired. The crew were soon penned up in the fore part of the vessel, with the exception of the captain and the man Jack had knocked down, who were sitting on deck rubbing their eyes, hardly yet recovered. Scarcely three minutes had passed since we ran alongside, and the lugger was ours. I was still in the boat, waiting for orders.

“Come on board, D’Arcy,” said Hanks at length, looking over the side. “We’ll lower the wherry’s sails, and tow her astern.”

I gladly jumped out of her when we had stowed her canvas and made fast the painter. Our prize turned out to be a valuable one, for she had not only spirits, but silk and lace on board. Her papers clearly proved also that these goods were intended to be smuggled, so I remember Hanks saying; but how that was I did not trouble myself, nor do I to this day know. The smugglers, as well as they might, were certainly sulky; and Hanks, as a gentle hint for them to behave themselves, stationed a man with a double-barrelled pistol in his hand close to them, while they stood huddled together on the little forecastle. I took the helm, while the sails were trimmed and a course shaped for the Needles. In a short time a breeze sprang up, and we spanked along at a furious rate. The French skipper had now recovered, and getting on his legs, with a polite bow, expressed a hope, in tolerable English, that we would make ourselves at home on board his vessel.

“No fear of that, monsieur,” answered Hanks. “Cool, is he not, D’Arcy?”

“You no have taken dinner, sare,” continued the skipper. “I will tell de cook to make dinner ready.”

“Not a bad idea, monsieur,” said Hanks. “Which of you chaps is cook?”

The Frenchman pointed to the fellow whose head Jack had nearly broken. He spoke a few words to him, and the man—having got up and stretched himself to ascertain, I suppose, that no bones were broken—dived below, and presently returned with a white cap and apron, and several pans and dishes, and began busying himself in the mysteries of his art. Again he dived, the fire in the forepeak burned up brightly, and savory smells began to ascend therefrom. In about an hour the skipper, with another bow, invited us into his little well-like cabin aft, where a collation, such as an epicure might envy, was placed before us. What were its component parts I did not inquire. They may have been cats and frogs, but neither Hanks nor I were in any way particular, and no dreadful surmises crossed my mind. An Englishman would have broached a keg of brandy, but our friend, Monsieur Didot, placed a bottle of fine-flavoured claret and a variety of first-rate liqueurs before us, not that either Hanks or I was well able to appreciate the former.

“Come, monsieur, hand us out a bottle of some real stuff or other; I’m not fond of your pink vinegars,” exclaimed Hanks, as he tossed off a tumbler of the claret. “This isn’t bad for washing the dust out of a fellow’s throat on a hot day, but there’s no life-blood in it.”

The skipper, with a twinkle of his eyes which betokened mischief, though unfortunately Hanks did not perceive it, produced a large square bottle, thick at the top, from which he poured out a glass of first-rate Scheidam. Hanks smacked his lips as he tasted it.

“Take care, Neil, my child,” said he, “you don’t swallow much of that stuff; it’s too good. I’ll just smack at another glass, and then we’ll go on deck out of the way of temptation.”

The Frenchman looked mightily disappointed when he saw that Hanks was not so easily taken in as he doubtless expected he would be. I happened to look round as we left the cabin, and saw him shrugging his shoulders and making hideous grimaces, and no very complimentary gestures at us. Before this little incident I had thought him the pink of politeness. He wore love-locks and rings in his ears, and was dressed with the most accurate French nautical precision; in fact he looked thoroughly unlike an English seaman. In his manners he was a very mild man, and certainly he had nothing of the ruffian about him. I cannot say as much for his crew, some of whom were very ill-looking dogs. It would have been wiser in Hanks to have handcuffed them all, including the skipper and cook (though we should thereby have gone without a good dinner), and stationed a sentry with a loaded musket over them, with orders to shoot the first who should attempt to escape.

The French skipper, when he found that his plan to obfuscate the brains of the knowing old Hanks had totally failed, went and sat himself down forward among his people, apparently in a fit of the sulks.

Hanks, who was in high spirits at the success of our enterprise, walked the deck with me, looking out for the high land of the Isle of Wight above the Needle rocks, which we were approaching. The breeze had increased and kicked up a little sea, and we were running fast through the water.

“D’Arcy, my boy, this is a fine haul, isn’t it?” exclaimed my superior, rubbing his hands. “Credit and prize-money together. Both good things. When I was a youngster I thought something about the first; but now, do you see, Mrs Hanks and I have a fancy for t’other. It keeps the pot boiling, do ye see? I should think your uncle, by this time, was much of my way of thinking, though he’s a round number of years younger than I am.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” said I. “My uncle thinks a good deal of gaining honour, and I believe he’d rather take an enemy’s frigate after a hard-fought action, than capture a Spanish galleon without a blow.”

“Well, it’s the proper spirit,” said Hanks, with a sigh. “The revenue service don’t nourish it much, though. Take my advice; get out of it as soon as you can; or,” he continued with much feeling, “it will spoil you otherwise, depend on it.”

We continued walking the deck for some time longer. We then sat down to rest, watching the coast, from which we were about three miles distant.

Jack was at the helm, and the rest of our people were giving a hand to the sheets, as the wind had veered a little to the westward.

The smugglers were seemingly fast asleep, with the exception of the skipper, who had lighted a cigar to console himself under his mishap.

Chapter Ten.The Tables Turned—Console Myself with the Fiddle—Set the Frenchmen Dancing—Captain Didot—My Place of Imprisonment—Escape—Greater Danger—Frighten my Friends.Everything was going on as tranquilly as possible. Hanks was sweeping the horizon with his glass, looking out for the cutter, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, I saw the sentry’s pistol knocked out of his fist, and he himself hove headlong into the sea. Away flew the skipper’s cigar, and up he jumped as lively as a cricket, and, with two of his men, threw himself upon Hanks, who, taken unawares (his eyes engaged in his telescope), was bundled overboard. I tried to catch him by the leg, but his old blue trousers tore in my grasp, and a big Frenchman dealt me such a blow on the head that I was for an instant stunned.When I came to my senses, I saw the wherry dropping astern, and the Frenchmen, with pump-handles and boat-hooks, striking at the poor fellows they had hove overboard, with the foul intent of drowning them. I observed that somebody was in the wherry, for her sails were being hoisted, and I was bolting aft for the purpose of jumping into the water and swimming to her, when the skipper caught me by the arm. “Stay, my little fellow,” he exclaimed; “we don’t want to hurt you, and don’t want witnesses to this work. You must go with us.”While he was speaking, some of the smugglers had got hold of the muskets which our people had brought on board, and presenting them at the wherry, snapped the locks. Fortunately they were not loaded, or the priming had fallen out, and the villains were saved from the perpetration of further crimes.The men in the water swam towards the wherry, and I judged from her movements that those in her were engaged in picking them up. I sang out and struggled in vain; but the Frenchman held me fast, and finally, to save himself further trouble, lifted me up by the collar and shoved me down the companion-hatch into the cabin, closing the slide over me. There was I, like a mouse caught in a trap. At first I burst into a fit of tears, more from rage and indignation at being outwitted and surprised by the Frenchman than from the prospect in store for me, which was not, however, very pleasant. I might expect to be kept a prisoner in some out-of-the-way place in France, or perhaps, to be shipped to the other side of the globe and to be unable to return home for years to come. I made ineffectual attempts to get on deck to see what had become of Hanks and our men; but as I could not move the slide, I was obliged to sit down quietly in the cabin. My melting mood was soon over. “Better now,” thought I to myself. “I won’t let these big blackguards of Frenchmen see me down-hearted, any how. For the honour of old Ireland and the name of D’Arcy, I’ll put a bold face on the matter,” and I began to sing.There was a row on deck, and a great deal of jabbering; and the little vessel heeled over to the breeze; but I had no means of discovering what was taking place, nor where we were going.The only light let into the vessel was through a bulls-eye in the deck, so that at first I thought I was shut up in darkness. As, however, my sight got accustomed to the glimmer, I discovered a fiddle and bow hung up against the bulkhead.“Come,” thought I, “I’ll show the froggies that, though they may shut me up, they can’t damp my spirits in a hurry,” and seizing the instrument, I struck up an Irish jig. It was the most jolly tune I could recollect, and seldom failed to move the heels of all who heard it. I played away for some time without any notice being taken of my music; then I heard one fellow begin to shuffle away overhead, and then another, and presently it appeared as if the whole crew were toeing and heeling it in fine style. Then there were loud fits of laughter; and afterwards the slide was withdrawn and the skipper descended into the cabin.“Vell, you are,bon garçon, one merry fellow,” he said, laughing. “You make good use of my violin.”“I am fond of music, and play when I can,” I answered in an indifferent tone; “but I’m tired now, and intend to go to sleep.”“Well, but I have come to take you on deck to play to my people,” said he. “They are pleased with you, and it will be better for you if you do.”“What! you ask me to play for the amusement of the men who have been ill-treating my shipmates, and murdering them, for what I know to the contrary,” I answered, indignantly. “No! I played for my own amusement, and do not intend to play any more.”“Your shipmates attacked us first; and besides, my little man, we have not murdered them, or done them much harm either, except depriving them of your company, and of a few muskets and pistols,” he answered. “Take my advice: be as obliging as you can; they will be civil to you in return.”“Well, monsieur, I believe you are right,” I replied. “If they really have not hurt my brother officer and our men, I will fiddle for them as long as they like.”Saying this, I followed him on deck, where I seated myself on the companion-hatch; and as I played away, in spite of the tumbling of the little vessel in the heavy sea running, all the Frenchmen, including Monsieur Didot, kept skipping, and jumping, and whirling about, hugging each other like bears, and shouting with glee at having saved their cargo from the clutches of the revenue people. We were standing, close-hauled, towards the French coast. I looked anxiously for the wherry, for I thought Hanks would have followed; but she was nowhere in sight. One of the Englishmen was at the helm, and the other two were forward. They were sulky brutes, and seemed much more bitter against me than were the Frenchmen. Whenever I ceased playing, the skipper gave me a hint to go on again; and there sat I, one of His Majesty’s officers, scraping away on an old Cremona for the amusement of a set of smugglers and outlaws. The scene struck me as so ludicrous that I burst into a loud fit of laughter till the tears began to stream down my cheeks. I fiddled all the faster, till the delight of the Frenchmen knew no bounds; and as a proof of their regard, some of them came up and actually almost hugged the breath out of my body, calling me a bravegarçon, a jollygarçonand an ornament to my country. This fun continued till we made the land, about dark. Some time afterwards, I found that we were running into a small harbour, with a pier on one side and a lighthouse on it. Its name I could not learn; but I supposed it was somewhere to the eastward of Cherbourg. I was trying to make out the look of the place, when the captain, touching me on the shoulder, said, “Go down below,my boy; when I want you I will come for you.” There was that in his tone which showed me that it would be useless to dispute his orders; so I returned to the cabin. Finding a berth with some bed-clothes in it, I crept in, and coiling myself away, was soon, fast asleep. I was awoke after some time by the skipper’s voice. He was holding up a lantern, and looking round, seemingly much surprised at not seeing me. He laughed as I poked my head out of my crib.“Ah,mon petit, you make yourself at home wherever you go,” he exclaimed. “But get up; you must come with me, and I will find a worthy lady who will take good care of you for some time to come.”I answered that I was very much obliged to him, but that I wanted to return home as soon as possible.“Ah, that cannot be,” said he, in a quiet tone. “I am sorry to inconvenience you; but you will allow that it is better to be kept a prisoner than to have been thrown overboard as food for the fish.”“Much obliged to you, monsieur,” I replied. “I cannot dispute your reasoning; so just be good enough to tell me what you want me to do.”“To get up and come with me,” said he; “and listen, my young friend,—if you attempt to run away, I will simply blow your brains out. I don’t wish you any harm, as I have proved; but necessity compels me to be explicit.”I did not know whether or not he was in earnest; but as it is dangerous to trifle with a man who has the power to put so unpleasant a threat in execution, I thought it wisest to obey him. I accordingly followed him on deck, when he took my hand and led me along a plank which was thrown from the vessel to the shore. We walked through the narrow street of a village odoriferous of fish, and then out into the country, which in agreeable contrast smelt of fresh grass and flowers. Proceeding along a road which, by looking at the stars overhead, I judged ran inland, we reached a farm-house, standing a little back from the road. The smuggler knocked with his fist at the floor, but no one answered, nor was any light seen through the windows. We waited some further time without receiving any answer to our summons.“Morbleu! I forgot the hour; they have all gone to bed. I must knock again,” said he, giving several thundering blows on the door.At length a female voice asked who was there.“It is Captain Didot and a friend; open quick, good Madeleine,” he said in French. “We are tired and hungry and sleepy, and wish to be inside instead of outside your door.”“Ah! it is you, Monsieur Didot, I know full well,” answered the voice. “I will let you in.”We were, however, kept some time longer, and at last the door opened, and a young woman made her appearance, dressed in a high white cap and short petticoats, dark woollen stockings, and wooden shoes, but very neat and trim. I had never before seen a woman in so odd a rig. She smiled a welcome to my companion, and shutting the door behind us, a good deal of talking took place; but though I could manage to make out Captain Didot’s French, I did not understand a word she said. We then went into a nice clean parlour, with a red-brick floor, and sat down and talked again. Suddenly, up jumped the lady in the high cap, and after an absence of ten minutes or so, returned with a tray covered with eatables and drinkables. I instinctively drew my chair to the table at the sight without waiting to be bid, whereat our hostess smiled, and observed that thepauvre enfantwas hungry. Captain Didot took the hint and helped me; nor did he forget himself; and setting to work, we made a very capital supper.“I must now be off,” observed Monsieur Didot, as he came to an anchor; “but before I go, I must give you a caution, Monsieur Englishman. You are not to make your appearance outside these garden walls for the next fortnight. If you attempt to get away, ill-will come of it. Remember that madame here will take care of you, and you may have as much fruit to eat and wine to drink as you like; and now, good night, my friend. You hear, do you not?”I did hear; but I was so very sleepy that I could not recollect enough French to answer him. While he continued talking to madame, I dropped off asleep in my chair, and for long in my dreams I heard the buzz of their voices. When I was at last awoke, by feeling a hand placed on my shoulder, the smuggling captain was gone.“Come,” said the good-natured woman; “you want rest, my boy;” and taking a candle, she led me into a neat little room with a comfortable bed in it, where I very soon forgot myself in slumber.The next morning, when I turned out, I found that I was an occupant of a comfortable farm-house, with a garden attached, full of fruit-trees and vegetables. An old man and his wife made their appearance, and I discovered that the young woman who had received us the previous night was their daughter. While we were at breakfast, I heard the old couple complaining of Captain Didot for having brought me there. They evidently fancied that I did not understand French.“He will be getting us into trouble with his tricks, one of these days,” remarked the old lady. “Ah! Madeleine, my daughter, it would be much wiser in you to have nothing more to say to him.”Mademoiselle looked very glum, as if she did not like the counsel. I pretended to be deeply absorbed, discussing the fresh eggs and other eatables placed before me.“Ha, ha!” thought I to myself; “I see how the wind blows. They will not dare, then, to keep me a prisoner longer than I like to stay. Well, I’m very comfortable here at present; so I will spend a day or so with the good people.”I saw that I was narrowly watched wherever I went; but I did not forget the French skipper’s advice to take advantage of the fine fruit with which the garden abounded. When Madeleine saw that I was apparently contented, we became very good friends; and I must own that I spent the day not unpleasantly. I began, however, to reflect that I had no business to remain where I was if I had the power of getting away; so I turned in my mind how I could best make my escape. I guessed that to do so would not be quite so easy as at first appeared; for I had observed a labourer continually near me, and I remarked that whenever I went to a distant part of the garden his occupation invariably took him in the same direction.“Somehow or other I must manage to make a run for it,” thought I to myself; but when I came to examine the locality, I found that the garden was surrounded with fields and ditches; and though I might swim across the latter, I should certainly have been caught and made very uncomfortable and dirty into the bargain. I therefore gave up that idea, and amused myself in the best way I could. I helped Mademoiselle Madeleine in her poultry-yard and dairy, looked in on the old lady employed in her culinary affairs, walked over the farm with the old man, and chatted in my somewhat unintelligible French, with every one I met. Happening to go into my own room in the evening, I found the window open, and looking out, I saw that the height from the sill to the ground was not more than from twelve to fifteen feet.“Ho, ho!” thought I; “it will be a foolish bird which can’t get out of a cage like this; but I will bide my time.” I hurried away, and ran downstairs, where I was soon after summoned to supper. I made myself quite at home, and did not fail to do justice to the meal. The household went to rest early, and as soon as I fancied every one was asleep I got up from my bed, where I had thrown myself, and reconnoitred the ground. To avoid the risk of laming myself by a jump, I tied my sheets together, and secured them to the leg of a table, which I managed to jam between the shutter and the wall so as to prevent its slipping; and placing my hat tightly on my head, and buttoning up my coat, I let myself quietly down to the ground. I was afraid of awakening some one in the house should I run, as I felt inclined to do; so I crept softly away, till I had got to some distance, and then took to my heels, as fast as I could go, in the direction of the town or fishing village where I had landed. After going for some distance, I thought that I must have missed my way; but the murmur of the water on the beach assured me that I had taken the right direction. At last I found myself among some straggling cottages, my nose helping me to find the locality I was in search of. My first care was to look out for the lugger, to avoid her. Much to my satisfaction, she was not there, neither was any one moving on the quay; so I walked about till I found a shed somewhat less odorous than its neighbours, where I determined to take up my abode till daylight. Here I quickly made myself a nest with some ropes and spars—albeit not a very soft one,—and fell fast asleep. Having the necessity of being alert on my mind, I awoke just as dawn was breaking, and, jumping up, I ran down to the quay. The flapping of a sail told me that some one was astir, and, looking round, I saw at the end of the quay a cutter preparing to get under weigh.“Cutter ahoy!” I sung out, running the chance of anybody understanding me. “Where are you bound for?”“Hillo; who are you?” asked a voice in English.“I want a cast across the Channel,” I answered.“Well, come aboard, and we’ll see what we can do for you,” said the same speaker.I accordingly ran along the quay, and jumped on the cutter’s deck just as her last warp was cast off. I had a rough Flushing coat buttoned up close round me; and as I had on also a low tarpaulin hat, I thought I looked the character I wished to assume. The people on board were likewise too busy to afford me more than a passing glance as I sprung on deck. A rough, weather-beaten old fellow, with one eye, who, from the orders he issued, I knew to be the master, stood at the helm. His crew consisted of seven hands—strong, active-looking fellows,—many more than the craft required to work her. This circumstance at once made me suspect that she was not over honest.“Faith,” thought I to myself, “this isn’t the best place in the world for a revenue officer to find himself in.”But it was now too late to get oh shore again. The headsheets were let draw, the main eased off a little, the peak hoisted up, and, with a fair breeze, the cutter glided out of the harbour.“Well, youngster, you were not long in making up your mind about coming,” said the old skipper, scrutinising me, I thought, pretty narrowly from head to foot. “What place are you bound for, eh?”I told him Ryde, in the Isle of Wight.“Well, we’ll put you ashore at the back of the Wight; I suppose that will do for you?” he answered, in a good-natured tone.I thanked him for his offer; and we went on talking very amicably for some time, till we had run some fifteen miles from the coast. I think, from the first, the old man had some suspicions of me; but I had acted my part well, and I fancied that I had succeeded in lulling them.Just as I thought all was right, as ill-luck would have it, I happened to want to use my pocket-handkerchief, and in searching for it I incautiously threw open my jacket and exposed my uniform buttons to view.In the first place, the sort of boy I pretended to be would not have possessed such an article as a pocket-handkerchief; and I ought to have remembered that the sight of the crown and anchor would not be acceptable to persons of my friends’ vocation.“Why—hullo, youngster! who are you, I should like to know?” exclaimed the old skipper, seizing me by the arm, and giving me no gentle shake.“He’s a spy, surely, and no mistake,” cried several of the crew. “Heave the young shrimp overboard.”“Overboard with him!” exclaimed the rest in chorus. “We’ll teach the Government to send their whelps to hunt us out in this fashion.”I own that I began to feel very uncomfortable; for the threatening looks of the fellows were in no way calculated to lessen my apprehensions. Now my feelings always prompt me to try and escape from a dilemma by at once candidly confessing the truth. I therefore acknowledged that I belonged to a revenue cutter, and explained what had occurred.“I only obeyed the orders of my superior officers in attacking the lugger,” I observed, in as bold a tone as I could manage to muster. “Her people carried me off against my will; and, as I wanted to get home, I came aboard you; but I never thought of doing you or any of your friends harm, if I could help it. How am I to blame, then?”“Never listen to his chaff; heave him overboard, I say,” growled out one of the men.“Thank you all the same, master,” said I, looking him as boldly as I could in the face; “but I’d rather stay aboard till I can get put decently on shore, and not have to swim there, as you would have me do.”“Swim! By God, you wouldn’t swim long, I expect,” said the ruffian.“Faith, I’ve no fancy for trying, either,” I answered. “If I intended treachery, do you think, masters, I should have put myself in your power as I have done? just answer me that.”“Well, now, I don’t think as how you would,” exclaimed the old skipper. “You’re a brave lad anyhow, and deserve a better calling than trying to injure poor fellows who are just doing their best to make a honest livelihood for their families.”“Well,” said I, seeing the favourable impression I was making, “I’m going soon to be appointed to a frigate on a foreign station, so there’s little chance of my falling in with you again. If you kill me you will be hung, that’s certain, for murder is always out some day or other.”“Don’t be coming any of your Irish blarney over us,” growled out a sour-looking ruffian. “If you’re a spy, overboard you go, that’s all.”“I’m no spy,” I answered in an indignant tone. “All I ask of you is to put me on shore anywhere at the back of the Wight, and I’ll give you my word none of you will be the worse for my being here.”The skipper gave an approving nod as I pleaded for my life. Some of the ruffians seemed to give way.“Just tell me, then, what harm can a small chap like me do you?” I continued. “How do I know what you’ve got on board, or what you’re going to do with it. Be good-natured fellows now, and if I can ever do you a good turn, I will.”“Oh, come, let the little chap alone; there’s no harm in him, I’m sure!” exclaimed one of the smugglers, slapping me on the shoulder. “Cheer up, my lad; we’ll do you no harm.”The others soon came round, and shaking me by the hand, declared that I was a brave little cock, and they only wished I was one of them.A coarse but plentiful dinner was soon afterwards placed on the deck, the chief part of it appearing in a square iron pot, round which we sat as merry as crickets; and there was I hob-nobbing with a band of smugglers as if we were the best friends in the world.Towards evening we made the land, no cutter being in sight. I had a sovereign and a few shillings in my pocket, which I offered the old skipper, but he would receive nothing; and, as good as his word, as soon as it was dark, he ran in and put me on shore not far from Shanklin. As there was some sea on the beach, all hands got not a little wet, but they took it in good part, and wished me a hearty good-bye as I set off to clamber up the cliffs. I at length found a path which took me into the high road; as soon as I reached it I began to make the best of my way towards Ryde. My legs ached, but I ran and walked as fast as I could. I had not proceeded far when I heard the sound of wheels coming along the road. A cart soon overtook me.“Is this the road to Ryde?” I asked.“Yes, it be,” said the driver. “Be you going there?”“If I can manage to get as far,” I answered.“Well, if you be tired, jump in, and I’ll gie ye a lift; I be going most of the way,” replied the good Samaritan. I obeyed with alacrity, and took my seat by his side. He was one of the substantial farmers who abound in the island. I gave him an account of my adventures, at which he was much amused; nor did he seem to have any very great antipathy to my smuggling friends.“Lord bless ’e! they wouldn’t have hurt your little fingers,” he remarked, when I told him how the crew of the cutter had threatened my life. He would not part from me till he had deposited me at the gates of Daisy Cottage. The lights were shining through the drawing-room windows. My aunt was sitting working, and sweet Alice Marlow had a book before her. They both looked very sad, I thought. I tapped at the window, which opened to the ground, to call their attention, and grinned a “How-d’ye-do” through the glass. No sooner did Alice see my face, than letting her book fall, she gave a loud scream, as if she had seen a spectre.“Hillo! what’s the matter?” I exclaimed, shaking the handle of the window. “Let me in, aunt, please; I’m not a thief or a ghost, on my word.” My aunt, more courageous than the little girl, had risen from her seat, and my voice assuring her of my identity, she opened the door, and I very soon convinced her and Alice that I was a living being by kissing them both, and then devouring every scrap of supper she set before me. I found that, from Hanks’ report, they had been led to believe that the Frenchmen had knocked me on the head; and were mourning for me accordingly. My aunt was, I verily believe, employed in making a black gown to put on for my sake. My uncle had sailed again to look after the lugger, so that I was able to enjoy the height of a midshipman’s felicity, a holiday on shore. Three days afterwards theSerpentcame back, having re-captured the lugger and two hundred tubs. I saw Captain Didot, who was very angry at finding that I had escaped, and vowed he would pay me off in a different coin, if he ever caught me again. I told him he might, if he ever did.

Everything was going on as tranquilly as possible. Hanks was sweeping the horizon with his glass, looking out for the cutter, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, I saw the sentry’s pistol knocked out of his fist, and he himself hove headlong into the sea. Away flew the skipper’s cigar, and up he jumped as lively as a cricket, and, with two of his men, threw himself upon Hanks, who, taken unawares (his eyes engaged in his telescope), was bundled overboard. I tried to catch him by the leg, but his old blue trousers tore in my grasp, and a big Frenchman dealt me such a blow on the head that I was for an instant stunned.

When I came to my senses, I saw the wherry dropping astern, and the Frenchmen, with pump-handles and boat-hooks, striking at the poor fellows they had hove overboard, with the foul intent of drowning them. I observed that somebody was in the wherry, for her sails were being hoisted, and I was bolting aft for the purpose of jumping into the water and swimming to her, when the skipper caught me by the arm. “Stay, my little fellow,” he exclaimed; “we don’t want to hurt you, and don’t want witnesses to this work. You must go with us.”

While he was speaking, some of the smugglers had got hold of the muskets which our people had brought on board, and presenting them at the wherry, snapped the locks. Fortunately they were not loaded, or the priming had fallen out, and the villains were saved from the perpetration of further crimes.

The men in the water swam towards the wherry, and I judged from her movements that those in her were engaged in picking them up. I sang out and struggled in vain; but the Frenchman held me fast, and finally, to save himself further trouble, lifted me up by the collar and shoved me down the companion-hatch into the cabin, closing the slide over me. There was I, like a mouse caught in a trap. At first I burst into a fit of tears, more from rage and indignation at being outwitted and surprised by the Frenchman than from the prospect in store for me, which was not, however, very pleasant. I might expect to be kept a prisoner in some out-of-the-way place in France, or perhaps, to be shipped to the other side of the globe and to be unable to return home for years to come. I made ineffectual attempts to get on deck to see what had become of Hanks and our men; but as I could not move the slide, I was obliged to sit down quietly in the cabin. My melting mood was soon over. “Better now,” thought I to myself. “I won’t let these big blackguards of Frenchmen see me down-hearted, any how. For the honour of old Ireland and the name of D’Arcy, I’ll put a bold face on the matter,” and I began to sing.

There was a row on deck, and a great deal of jabbering; and the little vessel heeled over to the breeze; but I had no means of discovering what was taking place, nor where we were going.

The only light let into the vessel was through a bulls-eye in the deck, so that at first I thought I was shut up in darkness. As, however, my sight got accustomed to the glimmer, I discovered a fiddle and bow hung up against the bulkhead.

“Come,” thought I, “I’ll show the froggies that, though they may shut me up, they can’t damp my spirits in a hurry,” and seizing the instrument, I struck up an Irish jig. It was the most jolly tune I could recollect, and seldom failed to move the heels of all who heard it. I played away for some time without any notice being taken of my music; then I heard one fellow begin to shuffle away overhead, and then another, and presently it appeared as if the whole crew were toeing and heeling it in fine style. Then there were loud fits of laughter; and afterwards the slide was withdrawn and the skipper descended into the cabin.

“Vell, you are,bon garçon, one merry fellow,” he said, laughing. “You make good use of my violin.”

“I am fond of music, and play when I can,” I answered in an indifferent tone; “but I’m tired now, and intend to go to sleep.”

“Well, but I have come to take you on deck to play to my people,” said he. “They are pleased with you, and it will be better for you if you do.”

“What! you ask me to play for the amusement of the men who have been ill-treating my shipmates, and murdering them, for what I know to the contrary,” I answered, indignantly. “No! I played for my own amusement, and do not intend to play any more.”

“Your shipmates attacked us first; and besides, my little man, we have not murdered them, or done them much harm either, except depriving them of your company, and of a few muskets and pistols,” he answered. “Take my advice: be as obliging as you can; they will be civil to you in return.”

“Well, monsieur, I believe you are right,” I replied. “If they really have not hurt my brother officer and our men, I will fiddle for them as long as they like.”

Saying this, I followed him on deck, where I seated myself on the companion-hatch; and as I played away, in spite of the tumbling of the little vessel in the heavy sea running, all the Frenchmen, including Monsieur Didot, kept skipping, and jumping, and whirling about, hugging each other like bears, and shouting with glee at having saved their cargo from the clutches of the revenue people. We were standing, close-hauled, towards the French coast. I looked anxiously for the wherry, for I thought Hanks would have followed; but she was nowhere in sight. One of the Englishmen was at the helm, and the other two were forward. They were sulky brutes, and seemed much more bitter against me than were the Frenchmen. Whenever I ceased playing, the skipper gave me a hint to go on again; and there sat I, one of His Majesty’s officers, scraping away on an old Cremona for the amusement of a set of smugglers and outlaws. The scene struck me as so ludicrous that I burst into a loud fit of laughter till the tears began to stream down my cheeks. I fiddled all the faster, till the delight of the Frenchmen knew no bounds; and as a proof of their regard, some of them came up and actually almost hugged the breath out of my body, calling me a bravegarçon, a jollygarçonand an ornament to my country. This fun continued till we made the land, about dark. Some time afterwards, I found that we were running into a small harbour, with a pier on one side and a lighthouse on it. Its name I could not learn; but I supposed it was somewhere to the eastward of Cherbourg. I was trying to make out the look of the place, when the captain, touching me on the shoulder, said, “Go down below,my boy; when I want you I will come for you.” There was that in his tone which showed me that it would be useless to dispute his orders; so I returned to the cabin. Finding a berth with some bed-clothes in it, I crept in, and coiling myself away, was soon, fast asleep. I was awoke after some time by the skipper’s voice. He was holding up a lantern, and looking round, seemingly much surprised at not seeing me. He laughed as I poked my head out of my crib.

“Ah,mon petit, you make yourself at home wherever you go,” he exclaimed. “But get up; you must come with me, and I will find a worthy lady who will take good care of you for some time to come.”

I answered that I was very much obliged to him, but that I wanted to return home as soon as possible.

“Ah, that cannot be,” said he, in a quiet tone. “I am sorry to inconvenience you; but you will allow that it is better to be kept a prisoner than to have been thrown overboard as food for the fish.”

“Much obliged to you, monsieur,” I replied. “I cannot dispute your reasoning; so just be good enough to tell me what you want me to do.”

“To get up and come with me,” said he; “and listen, my young friend,—if you attempt to run away, I will simply blow your brains out. I don’t wish you any harm, as I have proved; but necessity compels me to be explicit.”

I did not know whether or not he was in earnest; but as it is dangerous to trifle with a man who has the power to put so unpleasant a threat in execution, I thought it wisest to obey him. I accordingly followed him on deck, when he took my hand and led me along a plank which was thrown from the vessel to the shore. We walked through the narrow street of a village odoriferous of fish, and then out into the country, which in agreeable contrast smelt of fresh grass and flowers. Proceeding along a road which, by looking at the stars overhead, I judged ran inland, we reached a farm-house, standing a little back from the road. The smuggler knocked with his fist at the floor, but no one answered, nor was any light seen through the windows. We waited some further time without receiving any answer to our summons.

“Morbleu! I forgot the hour; they have all gone to bed. I must knock again,” said he, giving several thundering blows on the door.

At length a female voice asked who was there.

“It is Captain Didot and a friend; open quick, good Madeleine,” he said in French. “We are tired and hungry and sleepy, and wish to be inside instead of outside your door.”

“Ah! it is you, Monsieur Didot, I know full well,” answered the voice. “I will let you in.”

We were, however, kept some time longer, and at last the door opened, and a young woman made her appearance, dressed in a high white cap and short petticoats, dark woollen stockings, and wooden shoes, but very neat and trim. I had never before seen a woman in so odd a rig. She smiled a welcome to my companion, and shutting the door behind us, a good deal of talking took place; but though I could manage to make out Captain Didot’s French, I did not understand a word she said. We then went into a nice clean parlour, with a red-brick floor, and sat down and talked again. Suddenly, up jumped the lady in the high cap, and after an absence of ten minutes or so, returned with a tray covered with eatables and drinkables. I instinctively drew my chair to the table at the sight without waiting to be bid, whereat our hostess smiled, and observed that thepauvre enfantwas hungry. Captain Didot took the hint and helped me; nor did he forget himself; and setting to work, we made a very capital supper.

“I must now be off,” observed Monsieur Didot, as he came to an anchor; “but before I go, I must give you a caution, Monsieur Englishman. You are not to make your appearance outside these garden walls for the next fortnight. If you attempt to get away, ill-will come of it. Remember that madame here will take care of you, and you may have as much fruit to eat and wine to drink as you like; and now, good night, my friend. You hear, do you not?”

I did hear; but I was so very sleepy that I could not recollect enough French to answer him. While he continued talking to madame, I dropped off asleep in my chair, and for long in my dreams I heard the buzz of their voices. When I was at last awoke, by feeling a hand placed on my shoulder, the smuggling captain was gone.

“Come,” said the good-natured woman; “you want rest, my boy;” and taking a candle, she led me into a neat little room with a comfortable bed in it, where I very soon forgot myself in slumber.

The next morning, when I turned out, I found that I was an occupant of a comfortable farm-house, with a garden attached, full of fruit-trees and vegetables. An old man and his wife made their appearance, and I discovered that the young woman who had received us the previous night was their daughter. While we were at breakfast, I heard the old couple complaining of Captain Didot for having brought me there. They evidently fancied that I did not understand French.

“He will be getting us into trouble with his tricks, one of these days,” remarked the old lady. “Ah! Madeleine, my daughter, it would be much wiser in you to have nothing more to say to him.”

Mademoiselle looked very glum, as if she did not like the counsel. I pretended to be deeply absorbed, discussing the fresh eggs and other eatables placed before me.

“Ha, ha!” thought I to myself; “I see how the wind blows. They will not dare, then, to keep me a prisoner longer than I like to stay. Well, I’m very comfortable here at present; so I will spend a day or so with the good people.”

I saw that I was narrowly watched wherever I went; but I did not forget the French skipper’s advice to take advantage of the fine fruit with which the garden abounded. When Madeleine saw that I was apparently contented, we became very good friends; and I must own that I spent the day not unpleasantly. I began, however, to reflect that I had no business to remain where I was if I had the power of getting away; so I turned in my mind how I could best make my escape. I guessed that to do so would not be quite so easy as at first appeared; for I had observed a labourer continually near me, and I remarked that whenever I went to a distant part of the garden his occupation invariably took him in the same direction.

“Somehow or other I must manage to make a run for it,” thought I to myself; but when I came to examine the locality, I found that the garden was surrounded with fields and ditches; and though I might swim across the latter, I should certainly have been caught and made very uncomfortable and dirty into the bargain. I therefore gave up that idea, and amused myself in the best way I could. I helped Mademoiselle Madeleine in her poultry-yard and dairy, looked in on the old lady employed in her culinary affairs, walked over the farm with the old man, and chatted in my somewhat unintelligible French, with every one I met. Happening to go into my own room in the evening, I found the window open, and looking out, I saw that the height from the sill to the ground was not more than from twelve to fifteen feet.

“Ho, ho!” thought I; “it will be a foolish bird which can’t get out of a cage like this; but I will bide my time.” I hurried away, and ran downstairs, where I was soon after summoned to supper. I made myself quite at home, and did not fail to do justice to the meal. The household went to rest early, and as soon as I fancied every one was asleep I got up from my bed, where I had thrown myself, and reconnoitred the ground. To avoid the risk of laming myself by a jump, I tied my sheets together, and secured them to the leg of a table, which I managed to jam between the shutter and the wall so as to prevent its slipping; and placing my hat tightly on my head, and buttoning up my coat, I let myself quietly down to the ground. I was afraid of awakening some one in the house should I run, as I felt inclined to do; so I crept softly away, till I had got to some distance, and then took to my heels, as fast as I could go, in the direction of the town or fishing village where I had landed. After going for some distance, I thought that I must have missed my way; but the murmur of the water on the beach assured me that I had taken the right direction. At last I found myself among some straggling cottages, my nose helping me to find the locality I was in search of. My first care was to look out for the lugger, to avoid her. Much to my satisfaction, she was not there, neither was any one moving on the quay; so I walked about till I found a shed somewhat less odorous than its neighbours, where I determined to take up my abode till daylight. Here I quickly made myself a nest with some ropes and spars—albeit not a very soft one,—and fell fast asleep. Having the necessity of being alert on my mind, I awoke just as dawn was breaking, and, jumping up, I ran down to the quay. The flapping of a sail told me that some one was astir, and, looking round, I saw at the end of the quay a cutter preparing to get under weigh.

“Cutter ahoy!” I sung out, running the chance of anybody understanding me. “Where are you bound for?”

“Hillo; who are you?” asked a voice in English.

“I want a cast across the Channel,” I answered.

“Well, come aboard, and we’ll see what we can do for you,” said the same speaker.

I accordingly ran along the quay, and jumped on the cutter’s deck just as her last warp was cast off. I had a rough Flushing coat buttoned up close round me; and as I had on also a low tarpaulin hat, I thought I looked the character I wished to assume. The people on board were likewise too busy to afford me more than a passing glance as I sprung on deck. A rough, weather-beaten old fellow, with one eye, who, from the orders he issued, I knew to be the master, stood at the helm. His crew consisted of seven hands—strong, active-looking fellows,—many more than the craft required to work her. This circumstance at once made me suspect that she was not over honest.

“Faith,” thought I to myself, “this isn’t the best place in the world for a revenue officer to find himself in.”

But it was now too late to get oh shore again. The headsheets were let draw, the main eased off a little, the peak hoisted up, and, with a fair breeze, the cutter glided out of the harbour.

“Well, youngster, you were not long in making up your mind about coming,” said the old skipper, scrutinising me, I thought, pretty narrowly from head to foot. “What place are you bound for, eh?”

I told him Ryde, in the Isle of Wight.

“Well, we’ll put you ashore at the back of the Wight; I suppose that will do for you?” he answered, in a good-natured tone.

I thanked him for his offer; and we went on talking very amicably for some time, till we had run some fifteen miles from the coast. I think, from the first, the old man had some suspicions of me; but I had acted my part well, and I fancied that I had succeeded in lulling them.

Just as I thought all was right, as ill-luck would have it, I happened to want to use my pocket-handkerchief, and in searching for it I incautiously threw open my jacket and exposed my uniform buttons to view.

In the first place, the sort of boy I pretended to be would not have possessed such an article as a pocket-handkerchief; and I ought to have remembered that the sight of the crown and anchor would not be acceptable to persons of my friends’ vocation.

“Why—hullo, youngster! who are you, I should like to know?” exclaimed the old skipper, seizing me by the arm, and giving me no gentle shake.

“He’s a spy, surely, and no mistake,” cried several of the crew. “Heave the young shrimp overboard.”

“Overboard with him!” exclaimed the rest in chorus. “We’ll teach the Government to send their whelps to hunt us out in this fashion.”

I own that I began to feel very uncomfortable; for the threatening looks of the fellows were in no way calculated to lessen my apprehensions. Now my feelings always prompt me to try and escape from a dilemma by at once candidly confessing the truth. I therefore acknowledged that I belonged to a revenue cutter, and explained what had occurred.

“I only obeyed the orders of my superior officers in attacking the lugger,” I observed, in as bold a tone as I could manage to muster. “Her people carried me off against my will; and, as I wanted to get home, I came aboard you; but I never thought of doing you or any of your friends harm, if I could help it. How am I to blame, then?”

“Never listen to his chaff; heave him overboard, I say,” growled out one of the men.

“Thank you all the same, master,” said I, looking him as boldly as I could in the face; “but I’d rather stay aboard till I can get put decently on shore, and not have to swim there, as you would have me do.”

“Swim! By God, you wouldn’t swim long, I expect,” said the ruffian.

“Faith, I’ve no fancy for trying, either,” I answered. “If I intended treachery, do you think, masters, I should have put myself in your power as I have done? just answer me that.”

“Well, now, I don’t think as how you would,” exclaimed the old skipper. “You’re a brave lad anyhow, and deserve a better calling than trying to injure poor fellows who are just doing their best to make a honest livelihood for their families.”

“Well,” said I, seeing the favourable impression I was making, “I’m going soon to be appointed to a frigate on a foreign station, so there’s little chance of my falling in with you again. If you kill me you will be hung, that’s certain, for murder is always out some day or other.”

“Don’t be coming any of your Irish blarney over us,” growled out a sour-looking ruffian. “If you’re a spy, overboard you go, that’s all.”

“I’m no spy,” I answered in an indignant tone. “All I ask of you is to put me on shore anywhere at the back of the Wight, and I’ll give you my word none of you will be the worse for my being here.”

The skipper gave an approving nod as I pleaded for my life. Some of the ruffians seemed to give way.

“Just tell me, then, what harm can a small chap like me do you?” I continued. “How do I know what you’ve got on board, or what you’re going to do with it. Be good-natured fellows now, and if I can ever do you a good turn, I will.”

“Oh, come, let the little chap alone; there’s no harm in him, I’m sure!” exclaimed one of the smugglers, slapping me on the shoulder. “Cheer up, my lad; we’ll do you no harm.”

The others soon came round, and shaking me by the hand, declared that I was a brave little cock, and they only wished I was one of them.

A coarse but plentiful dinner was soon afterwards placed on the deck, the chief part of it appearing in a square iron pot, round which we sat as merry as crickets; and there was I hob-nobbing with a band of smugglers as if we were the best friends in the world.

Towards evening we made the land, no cutter being in sight. I had a sovereign and a few shillings in my pocket, which I offered the old skipper, but he would receive nothing; and, as good as his word, as soon as it was dark, he ran in and put me on shore not far from Shanklin. As there was some sea on the beach, all hands got not a little wet, but they took it in good part, and wished me a hearty good-bye as I set off to clamber up the cliffs. I at length found a path which took me into the high road; as soon as I reached it I began to make the best of my way towards Ryde. My legs ached, but I ran and walked as fast as I could. I had not proceeded far when I heard the sound of wheels coming along the road. A cart soon overtook me.

“Is this the road to Ryde?” I asked.

“Yes, it be,” said the driver. “Be you going there?”

“If I can manage to get as far,” I answered.

“Well, if you be tired, jump in, and I’ll gie ye a lift; I be going most of the way,” replied the good Samaritan. I obeyed with alacrity, and took my seat by his side. He was one of the substantial farmers who abound in the island. I gave him an account of my adventures, at which he was much amused; nor did he seem to have any very great antipathy to my smuggling friends.

“Lord bless ’e! they wouldn’t have hurt your little fingers,” he remarked, when I told him how the crew of the cutter had threatened my life. He would not part from me till he had deposited me at the gates of Daisy Cottage. The lights were shining through the drawing-room windows. My aunt was sitting working, and sweet Alice Marlow had a book before her. They both looked very sad, I thought. I tapped at the window, which opened to the ground, to call their attention, and grinned a “How-d’ye-do” through the glass. No sooner did Alice see my face, than letting her book fall, she gave a loud scream, as if she had seen a spectre.

“Hillo! what’s the matter?” I exclaimed, shaking the handle of the window. “Let me in, aunt, please; I’m not a thief or a ghost, on my word.” My aunt, more courageous than the little girl, had risen from her seat, and my voice assuring her of my identity, she opened the door, and I very soon convinced her and Alice that I was a living being by kissing them both, and then devouring every scrap of supper she set before me. I found that, from Hanks’ report, they had been led to believe that the Frenchmen had knocked me on the head; and were mourning for me accordingly. My aunt was, I verily believe, employed in making a black gown to put on for my sake. My uncle had sailed again to look after the lugger, so that I was able to enjoy the height of a midshipman’s felicity, a holiday on shore. Three days afterwards theSerpentcame back, having re-captured the lugger and two hundred tubs. I saw Captain Didot, who was very angry at finding that I had escaped, and vowed he would pay me off in a different coin, if he ever caught me again. I told him he might, if he ever did.

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