Chapter Twenty Three.

Chapter Twenty Three.The French Frigate.The gale lasted through the night and all next day, moderating about sun-down, however, sufficiently to allow of our setting our fore and main-lugs close-reefed, and keeping away upon our course. The wind continued to drop after that all through the night, the sea also going down rapidly; and next day we were able to shift our canvas, setting the lateens in place of the lugs; after which we bowled gaily along without further adventure, passing Ushant on the evening of the fourth day after the gale had blown itself out, and arriving at Spithead somewhat within the next forty-eight hours.The anchor let go, Smellie and I jumped into the gig, and, taking the despatch-box with us, pulled ashore, landing at the Sally-port. From thence we proceeded, first to the admiral’s office, and afterwards to the “George” in High Street, where I ordered a post-chaise; and then the pair of us sat down to a hastily-prepared dinner while the carriage was in process of fitting-out.In consequence of my representations to the admiral, he had ordered the “Vigilant” into harbour immediately, to refit and make good the slight damage inflicted on us during the gale in the Bay of Biscay, and, when the post-chaise was announced, Smellie only remained long enough to see me fairly under way, when he returned on board to take the little hooker into harbour, and superintend the operation of refitting.It was not quite six p.m. when we shoved off from before the door of the “George,” and dashed away up the High Street, and soon afterwards the chaise was bowling along at a spanking pace over the dry, white, dusty road in the open country—the landscape flooded in the lovely golden haze of a fine summer evening, and the air heavy with the perfume of flowers and the sweet, health-giving smell of rich pasture-lands, long chestnut-avenues, and thick pine plantations. The mingled odours of the country—so different from the strong smell of the sea-breeze—the sight of the slanting sunbeams glancing through the boles and branches of the venerable trees dotted here and there in clumps along the roadside; of the verdant hedges with their rich clusters of delicate dog-roses and trailing honeysuckle or wild convolvulus; of the groups of sleek cattle feeding in the fields, contemplatively chewing the cud under the shade of some over-hanging tree, or browsing along the roadside; of the knots of rosy, sun-tanned children playing about the village-roads or on the green, and turning to stand open-mouthed and stare at the chaise as we dashed past; of the pretty cottages nestling in a bower of greenery, each with its tiny flower-garden in front, and a thin wreath of blue smoke curling up from its chimney into the still evening air; of the picturesque villages, with their ancient church-spires pointing heavenward; and of the stately country-seats of the gentry, surrounded by noble trees, the growth of centuries, the deer clustered beneath their umbrageous branches, with their spacious flower-terraces and long avenues of limes, arching chestnuts, or venerable oaks, reaching from the house to the distant road, and terminating in snug little ivy-covered lodges and heavy ornamental iron gates with massive stone piers, moss-grown, and surmounted by time-worn and weather-stained stone sculptures of the arms of the family; the drowsy chime of the church-clocks; the barking of dogs; the lowing of cattle; the voices of herdsmen or field-labourers singing as they wended their weary way homeward after the labour and heat of the day—the sound softened and mellowed by distance; all combined to render that journey one of the most pleasant and enjoyable I had ever undertaken, notwithstanding the pain and discomfort which I experienced from my wounded arm.The evening passed on; the lovely, silent twilight insensibly deepened into night; the stars twinkled forth, one by one, in the pure, clear, deepening blue overhead; the road gradually widened; the houses along its sides became more and more frequent, the atmosphere thickened; the horizon ahead grew luminous; lights appeared and rapidly increased in number, soon they were glancing on both sides of us; a dull, heavy roar became audible, and finally, as the church-clocks were striking the hour of midnight, the chaise pulled up before the door of my uncle’s house in Saint James’s Square; and I had arrived in town.As the post-boy let down the steps and threw open the carriage-door for me to alight, I could see through the fanlight over the door that there was a light in the hall, so I felt pretty certain that my uncle had not yet retired. I ran up the steps and gave the bell-handle a tug which speedily brought old Timothy to the door.“Has Sir Peregrine retired yet, Tim?” said I.“He has not, sir,” replied the ancient, “but I much doubt if he will see any one at such a late—Why, I declare, if it ain’t Master Ralph! Come in, sir; come in. Sir Peregrine is in the libr’y. Won’t he be glad to see you, just! He’s always looking through the paper to see if there’s any news of the ‘Juno,’ or if your name is mentioned, sir. This is an unexpected visit, though, Master Ralph; I hope there’s nothing wrong, sir.”“Oh dear, no! quite the reverse I hope, Tim, my boy. I’ve been sent home with despatches. Now, lead the way to the library, if you please.”This short confabulation passed in the hall while Tim was relieving me of my cloak and hat. He now preceded me to the library, at the door of which he knocked, and then, flinging open the portal, he announced me.“Master Ralph, Sir Peregrine.”I passed into the lofty apartment, its walls lined from floor to ceiling with well-stocked book-shelves, and found the worthy knight seated in his own particular old easy-chair, with one foot—ominously swathed in flannel—reposing upon another; his specs on his nose, and the gazette in his hand.He looked round with a start as my name was mentioned, shaded his eyes with his hand for an instant, as his eyes fell upon my advancing figure, and then—forgetting all about his gout—started to his feet with both hands outstretched.“Why, Ralph! My dear boy, where—confound this gout! Italwaysattacks me at exactly the wrong moment—but never mind; what cloud have you dropped from?”“From no cloud at all, my dear sir, but just from an ordinary post-chaise, in which I have come up from Portsmouth. How are you, sir? I hope you have nothing worse than the gout to complain of. Wish you were free ofthat, for it must be very troublesome.”“Troublesome enough, my boy, you may take my word for that; but the present attack is luckily very trifling—a mere fleabite, in fact. And how are you? You don’t look particularly bright, rather the reverse, indeed; and what is the matter with your arm?”Thereupon I gave him a hasty outline of my story, so far at least as the cruise in the “Vigilant” was concerned; and then old Richards, the butler, brought in the supper; serving it, by Sir Peregrine’s orders, in the library, so that we might not be disturbed or my yarn interrupted by passing from one room to another.We sat until close upon three o’clock a.m., my uncle forgetting all about bed in his anxiety to hear full particulars of my doings since I had last parted from him. At length, however, he glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece, and at once pulled me up short.“There, there! that will do for to-night, my dear boy. I’ve forgotten everything in listening to you, and have allowed you to talk all this time instead of sending you straight off to your bunk, as I ought to have done, and you with a broken arm, too. But I am delighted to have heard all that you have told me—the gazette tells one nothing—and I can afford you the satisfaction of knowing that your name has attracted attention in the right quarter; Sir James has spoken to me about you on more than one occasion; and your promotion is certain. If you go on as you have begun, Ralph, I predict that you will mount the ratlines rapidly. Now, we will breakfast at ten o’clock, if that will suit you, and then I will go with you myself to the Admiralty with the despatches. My gout? Pooh! I’ll lay a crown it will be gone by the time I turn out in the morning; and if it is not, it is not bad enough to keep me at anchor here when I can perhaps do you a good turn. I’ll introduce you to Sir James; I should like him to see for himself the sort of lad you are. Now; good-night! Tim will attend to you. God bless you, my boy.”I trundled off, Timothy leading the way with a light in each hand for the room which I had formerly occupied, and, having undressed with the assistance of my somewhat garrulous attendant, tumbled into the luxurious bed, and immediately fell into a sound sleep.The arrangement of the previous night was duly carried out, Sir Peregrine’s gout having, as he had predicted, been merciful enough to afford him a respite.We drove to the Admiralty, and I sent in my despatch-box. My uncle also sent in his card.Half an hour elapsed, Sir James happening to be engaged when we arrived, and then Sir Peregrine was admitted to the august presence. Another half-hour passed, at the expiration of which time I also was invited into the sanctum. My uncle introduced me; Sir James uttered a few complimentary phrases upon my past conduct, informed me that “he had his eye upon me,” presented two fingers for me to shake, gave his entire hand to my uncle, and we were dismissed. As we passed through the outer office it was intimated to me that my presence would be required there at noon next day.“That’s a good job well over,” ejaculated my uncle, as we once more seated ourselves in the carriage and drove off. “You are in high favour, let me tell you, my boy,” he continued. “Lord Hood has referred to you in very flattering terms in his despatches, in connexion with that hare-brained escapade of yours at Bastia; and Sir James has assured me of the very great satisfaction with which he views your conduct, and has promised moreover that he will take the earliest possible opportunity to show his appreciation of it. Now, where shall we go? I suppose you do not feel very much in cue for sight-seeing, with your wounded arm, eh? Very well; then we’ll drive to my tailor’s—you want a new gang of rigging put over your mast-head badly, my boy, and then we’ll go home and you shall rest a bit. I have a few friends coming to dinner this evening; but you need not join us if you do not feel equal to it, you know.”The “new gang of rigging” was duly ordered, and faithfully promised for next day at noon—Sir Peregrine insisting upon its being charged to his account—and then we returned to Saint James’s Square.With the dinner-hour my uncle’s guests arrived, some twenty in number; and, as I rather fancied the dear old gentleman would be glad if I were present, I put in an appearance. My suspicions were no doubt well founded, as it turned out that one of the guests was no less a personage than my new acquaintance of the morning—the great Sir James himself. The old boy was a good deal less taut in the backstays than he had been in the morning, giving me his whole hand to shake on this occasion. During dinner he addressed himself to me several times, putting questions to me with reference to our recent operations in Corsica—that happening to be one of the topics of conversation; and after the meal was over he invited me to haul alongside, and chatted with me quite half an hour upon the same subject. Later on in the evening I happened to overhear him remark to my uncle,—“Like your nephew, Portfire—am much pleased with him—promising young officer—very—smart and intelligent—seems steady too—shall keep my eye on him.”Which, of course, was very gratifying.I drove to the office next day at noon, Sir Peregrine accompanying me, but this time he remained in his carriage while I went inside. My despatch-box was handed back to me, together with written orders—which were read over to me—to proceed without delay to Malta, there to hand over the contents of the said box to Lord Hood. In the event of his lordship not being there, I was to search for and find him.“Well, Ralph, what news?” asked my uncle, as I rejoined him.“I must leave you at once, dear sir,” I replied. “I have orders to sail forthwith for Malta, with these despatches. I had hoped they would have given me time to run down home, if only for a few hours; but all that is quite knocked on the head. As it is, I shall not be able to enjoy above another hour of your society, uncle, for I must start for Portsmouth without a moment’s delay.”“Ah!” remarked Sir Peregrine, “I anticipated this, from a remark which Sir James let fall last night, and I have so far provided for it that we can start in an hour’s time. I feel so much better that I shall run down with you. We will post down in my own carriage, and after I have seen you fairly off, I will look in upon your father and spend a day or two with them on my way back to town. I shall then be able to tell them all about you.”I tried to dissuade the old gentleman from undertaking so fatiguing a journey, but, having once made up his mind, there was no moving him from his purpose; and accordingly, having partaken of a good substantial luncheon, we started away about two p.m., and, after a pleasant, uneventful journey, reached Portsmouth a few minutes before eight o’clock in the evening.We put up at the “George;” and, after ordering dinner, walked down to the harbour, and soon made out the “Vigilant,” anchored about a quarter of a mile away. The tide was still flowing a little; so, jumping into a wherry, we were soon alongside.I found Smellie on board, and all hands, including a strong gang of dockyard workmen, still busy, late as it was, putting the finishing touches to the repairs. The provisions, water, and other stores had been shipped during the day; but the boat, to replace the one destroyed, would not be ready until the next morning.My uncle had been trotting round, giving the little craft a thorough inspection, during the time I had been engaged with my junior, and expressed himself as being much pleased with her handsome model. When we were ready to return to the shore he proposed that we should take little Smellie with us; and we accordingly all three trundled over the side into the shore-boat, which we had detained—leaving Hardy to superintend the finishing touches—and rowed down the harbour again in the light of a beautiful, clear full moon.Sir Peregrine was in high spirits that evening at dinner; he said it reminded him of his young days to be down there once more, and he completely unbent from his usual stateliness, so that we spent a most delightful evening, turning in about midnight.I awoke early next morning, and, having roused out my second in command, we walked down to the dockyard to hurry the people up with the new boat, which they were just finishing off.We returned to the hotel to breakfast at eight o’clock; and by ten a.m., having completed all my business on shore, we once more chartered a wherry, and went on board, my uncle accompanying us. On reaching the “Vigilant” I found that the new boat had been delivered and was hoisted in, the dockyard gang was clear of the ship, and everything was ready for an immediate start. I accordingly gave the word to unmoor, and in another quarter of an hour we passed out of the harbour with a nice little breeze from about N.N.E.My uncle remained on board until we were abreast of Cowes, when he ordered the wherry—which had been towing astern—to be hauled alongside. The “Vigilant” was hove-to; my uncle shook hands with little Smellie, slipped a five-pound note into the hand of Chips, the carpenter’s mate, for the crew to drink my health, and then, taking a hasty but most affectionate leave of me, hurried over the side into the wherry, seized the yoke-lines, and bade the boatman make sail for Portsmouth Harbour. We at once filled away again; and two hours afterwards passed through the Needles.Nothing worthy of note occurred until we were half-way across the Bay of Biscay, when, about four bells in the forenoon watch of a most delightful day, with a moderate breeze from the westward, and a very long swell, but no sea, the lookout man aloft reported a sail broad on our lee bow.I was in the cabin at the time, reading.“What does she look like?” inquired Smellie, who had the watch.“I can only see the heads of her fore and main-topgallantsails,” replied the man, “but I believe she is a frigate, sir.”Smellie came to the open skylight and spoke down through it:—“I say, Chester, if it’s not troubling you too much, will you hand me up my glass, please? It is in the beckets, just inside the door of my berth. Here’s a strange sail to leeward, and I want to take a squint at her.”I found the telescope, and carried it on deck myself. Master Harold slung it over his shoulder, and in another minute was perched on the long tapering yard of the lateen mainsail.“What doyoumake her out to be?” I hailed him, after he had given her a careful overhauling for some three or four minutes.“A frigate, without doubt,” he replied, his glass still levelled at her. “I can see her mizzen-royal-mast, with the yard across. Her sails are not large enough for a line-of-battle ship. Ha! she has hove in stays. Round she comes, smartly too. Why, she is setting her royals! Surely she can’t be coming after us?”“As like as not,” returned I. “If we can see her, she can see us; and as a craft of our rig is a rather unusual sight just about here, it is not improbable that her skipper may wish to learn a little more about us. What is she—English or French, think you?”“I believe she is French,” was the reply. “I had a good look at her canvas as she hove about, and it appeared to me to be decidedly Frenchified in shape.”We were already hugging the wind as closely as was possible, and had every possible inch of canvas spread; so we could do nothing but stand on as we were going, and await the course of events.Her sails rose rapidly above the horizon for the first hour or so, but after that, as we brought her moreonour quarter, they began to sink again. When about abeam of us, the stranger hoisted the tricolour at her gaff-end, fired a gun, and showed a signal from her main-royal mast-head, of which we could make nothing. We, however, hoisted the French flag also, and left them to make the best they could of it. After the first signal had been flying some time, it was hauled down, and another substituted, but with no better luck than before, and it was soon hauled down.“She is after us, for a guinea,” said I.“Ay, ay, nae doot o’ that,” quoth the old quarter-master; “but she’ll no catch us the gait she’s ganging the noo. This is oor ain weather, and I wad like brawly to see thefreegatethat can beat us wi’ nae mair wind than this. Yon Frenchman wad gie a hantle o’ siller to see the breeze freshen, but it’ll no do that yet awhile.”The frigate stood on until she was well upon our weather quarter, by which time the heads of her topgallantsails were just visible from the deck, when, to remove any doubt that might have remained as to her intentions, she once more hove in stays and stood after us.I went below and looked anxiously at the barometer; it was perfectly steady. I then returned to the deck and keenly scrutinised the sky; it was covered with patches of thin fleecy cloud which allowed the sun to show through, with broad patches of clear blue sky between; and the breeze was just fresh enough to curl the tops of the wavelets over in tiny flecks of foam, and to heel the “Vigilant” until our lee covering-board was just awash, with the clear, sparkling water occasionally welling up through the lee scuppers. It was, indeed, as old Sandy had remarked, the weather in which the little “Vigilant” stepped out to the greatest advantage, and I had very little fear of any square-rigged vessel being able to overhaul us so long as matters remainedin statu quo. I knew that we were sailing a good couple of points nearer the wind than was the Frenchman astern, and I believed we were going through the water nearly if not quite as fast as he was. By two bells in the afternoon watch the craft had dropped to leeward until she was a couple of points on our lee quarter, but she had certainly risen us a little, for by standing on the weather-rail I could see the heads of her topsails.Matters remained in pretty much the same state for the rest of the day, excepting that our pursuer gradually tagged away farther and farther to leeward, until he was broad upon our lee quarter. Toward sun-down, however, the breeze began to freshen, and our pertinacious companion soon showed us how great an advantage this was to him, by the way in which he drew up on our lee beam.When I went below to tea, I found that the barometer had fallen a little, and by the time that I had finished the meal and regained the deck, we were jerking through a short, choppy head-sea, with our lee bulwarks half-buried in the foam which hissed past our sides, the fore-deck drenched with the continuous heavy shower of spray which flew in over our weather bow, and our long yards swaying and bending as though each had been a fishing-rod with a lively salmon at the end of the line. I began to feel rather anxious, for the sea which the freshening breeze had knocked up was very detrimental toourspeed, while upon the frigate, owing to her vastly superior power, it had little or no effect.Night at length fell. There was no moon, and the stars were partially obscured by the patches of cloud which covered the sky. I began to hope we were going to have a dark night, under cover of which we might give our pursuer the slip. As the darkness closed down upon us, and just before she vanished in the gloom, I took her bearings with the greatest accuracy. She had by this time crept up to within a couple of points abaft our lee beam, and from our deck the upper halves of her topsails were visible. I allowed half an hour to elapse, and then tried to find her with my night-glass. To my great disappointment, I did so without much difficulty; and, what was worse, she was fast drawing up abreast of us.It was by this time as dark as it was likely to be, so I resolved to heave about at once, in hope that we might execute the manoeuvre undetected, and so give the Frenchman the slip. We accordingly tacked; and as soon as we were fairly round, and the sheets, etcetera, coiled down, I had another look for her. Presently the small dark patch swam into view, as I carefully swept the horizon at the point where I knew her to be, and, to my disappointment, it showed much shorter than before. She also had tacked.“Umph!” I muttered, “their night-glasses are as good as my own, apparently.”I began to see a French prison looming in the distance; for, from the rapidity with which she had tacked, and the manner in which, notwithstanding our superior weatherliness, she was overhauling us, I knew that our pursuer must be an exceedingly smart ship, and her skipper was acting like a man who had all his wits about him.All our lights were of course most carefully masked—a tarpaulin being thrown over the cabin skylight, and a seaman’s jacket over the binnacle, the helmsman steering by a star.We stood on thus for about a couple of hours after tacking, and I was seriously debating in my mind the possibility of giving the Frenchman the slip by lowering away all our canvas and then running to leeward under bare poles, my eyes resting abstractedly upon a brilliant planet broad upon our weather bow, which was just on the point of dipping below the horizon, when suddenly the said planet vanished. I took no notice of this until it as suddenly reappeared in the space of a few seconds.“Another sail, by all that’s complicating!” I ejaculated.“Another sail! Where away, sir?” exclaimed Hardy, who was standing between me and the helmsman.“Just to the southward of that bright planet on the horizon, broad on our larboard bow,” said I, as I levelled my glass. “Ah! there she is. Another frigate, by the look of her—hull up, too.”“Phew!” whistled Hardy; “that’s rather awk’ard; she may pick us out any minute. But perhaps she’s English, sir. You don’t often see two French ships so close together as this here. Can you see her pretty plain, sir?”“Not very,” I replied. “But I fancy there’s an English look about her.”“Letmetake a squint at her, sir.”I handed him over the glass, and he took a good long look at her. Suddenly he handed the glass back to me.“She’s English, sir! I’ll take my oath of it!” he exclaimed. “She’s the ‘Amethyst,’ that’s what she is. I knows her by the way her fore-topmast and topgallant-mast is looking over her bows. There ain’t another ship afloat as has got such a kink in her foremast as the ‘Amethyst,’ and that’s her, sir, as sure as I’m Tom Hardy.”“Are youquitecertain?” I inquired. “Do not speak rashly because the consequences may prove serious to us. If you arepositiveabout the matter, I will signal him and turn the tables upon our friend astern.”“Let me take another look, sir.”I handed over the glass, and he took another long look at her.“Fire away with your lanterns, sir, as soon as you like,” said he. “I’ll stake my liberty that yon craft is none other than the ‘Amethyst.’ She’s a twenty-eight; but her skipper is man enough to give a good account of Johnny, I’ll be bound.”“Then rouse out the lanterns, and let’s make the private signal,” said I. “But instead of hoisting them at our peak, where the Frenchman will see them and perhaps suspect something, haul the staysail down, get a block well up on the fore-stay, and we will run them up there; our sails will then hide them from the craft astern.”So said, so done; we showed the private signal, and in less than a minute it was properly answered, upon which we telegraphed the news that a French frigate was about ten miles astern in chase of us.Our signal was duly acknowledged; and immediately afterwards the “Amethyst”—for she it was—bore up.I now looked for the French frigate, to see if I could observe anything to show that they had seen the English frigate’s signal lanterns; but she was still carrying on upon the same tack, and, as I judged that she and the “Amethyst” were about seventeen miles apart, I hoped that the lights had escaped her notice.In about twenty minutes the “Amethyst” passed us, a mile to windward, and apparently steering a course which would run her slap on board the Frenchman in another half-hour. There was not a light to be seen anywhere about her; but for all that I knew that her crew were wide awake and busy. She was running down under courses, topsails, spanker, and jib, her topgallant-yards down upon the caps, with the sails clewed up, but not furled; royals stowed.“Nowwe shall see some fun shortly,” exclaimed Smellie, in high glee—he having got an inkling that something out of the common was toward, in that mysterious way in which peopledolearn such things on board a small ship, and had accordingly come on deck. But he was mistaken for once, if by the termfunhe meant a frigate action; for old Clewline, the skipper of the “Amethyst,” was too seasoned a hand to do anything rashly. He ran down, his ship as dark as the grave, until he had attained a position about two miles dead to windward of our pursuer, when he hauled up and showed the private signal at his gaff-end. The French frigate immediately edged away about four points and showed some lanterns, but they were not a reply to the “Amethyst’s” signal; so Clewline tried another—to make quite sure of avoiding any mistake. This was not answered at all; on the contrary, the Frenchman hauled down his lanterns and wore short round, crowding sail at the same moment; whereupon the “Amethyst” also bore up again and—Clewline must have had his men aloft all the time, ready for the emergency—as she squared away in chase, we saw her stunsails fluttering out to their boom-ends on both sides. We then tacked and resumed our original course once more, heartily thankful for our escape, and chuckling mightily at the thought of the trap Johnny Crapaud had run his nose into. In less than half an hour afterwards we lost sight of both ships.We reached Gibraltar without further incident, and failing there to obtain any intelligence as to Lord Hood’s whereabouts, we filled up our water and sailed again for Malta the same evening. We had a splendid but perfectly uneventful run from the Rock, a westerly wind and fine weather prevailing during the whole trip.On our arrival at Malta I learned that the “Victory” was lying at Genoa, and thither we accordingly went, picking up on the way a small French schooner from the Levant, laden with fruit. We were over three weeks on the passage, having an alternation of calms and strong head-winds to contend with; so that I was heartily glad when we at length found ourselves in port, and themud-hookdown.The “Juno” was also there, and, on delivering my despatches and making my report, I was ordered to give up the command of the “Vigilant” to the senior mid belonging to the “Victory,” and to rejoin my own ship. This, of course, I at once did; and I was not at all sorry to get back once more among my old shipmates, from whom I had been separated for so long a time.I had not left the “Victory” many minutes before the signal was made for our skipper to repair on board the flag-ship. His boat was still alongside that craft when I went up over the “Juno’s” side with my trifling belongings; but by the time that I had stowed them away and had found my way on deck, Captain Hood was back again on board his own ship, and in conference with the first lieutenant in the former’s cabin. It was not long before the first luff reappeared—with such a delighted expression upon his face that we at once felt certain he had heard pleasant news, and very soon it came out that I had brought, among my despatches, the order for the “Juno” to return home and pay off.“Hurrah for old England!” was now the cry; everybody was in the highest of spirits, for there was literally nothing to do but up anchor and away, which was promptly done, so that I scarcely spent half a dozen hours in the port of Genoa, the “Juno” sailing on the evening of the day on which the “Vigilant” had arrived.We were nearly a month in reaching as far as Gibraltar; but after getting fairly through the Gut and round Saint Vincent we made short miles of it, the girls having taken hold of the tow-rope, as Jack says, and eventually arrived at Spithead without the occurrence of any circumstance worth recording. The ship was paid off next day, and I was enabled to return once more, after an absence of nearly two years, to the paternal roof.

The gale lasted through the night and all next day, moderating about sun-down, however, sufficiently to allow of our setting our fore and main-lugs close-reefed, and keeping away upon our course. The wind continued to drop after that all through the night, the sea also going down rapidly; and next day we were able to shift our canvas, setting the lateens in place of the lugs; after which we bowled gaily along without further adventure, passing Ushant on the evening of the fourth day after the gale had blown itself out, and arriving at Spithead somewhat within the next forty-eight hours.

The anchor let go, Smellie and I jumped into the gig, and, taking the despatch-box with us, pulled ashore, landing at the Sally-port. From thence we proceeded, first to the admiral’s office, and afterwards to the “George” in High Street, where I ordered a post-chaise; and then the pair of us sat down to a hastily-prepared dinner while the carriage was in process of fitting-out.

In consequence of my representations to the admiral, he had ordered the “Vigilant” into harbour immediately, to refit and make good the slight damage inflicted on us during the gale in the Bay of Biscay, and, when the post-chaise was announced, Smellie only remained long enough to see me fairly under way, when he returned on board to take the little hooker into harbour, and superintend the operation of refitting.

It was not quite six p.m. when we shoved off from before the door of the “George,” and dashed away up the High Street, and soon afterwards the chaise was bowling along at a spanking pace over the dry, white, dusty road in the open country—the landscape flooded in the lovely golden haze of a fine summer evening, and the air heavy with the perfume of flowers and the sweet, health-giving smell of rich pasture-lands, long chestnut-avenues, and thick pine plantations. The mingled odours of the country—so different from the strong smell of the sea-breeze—the sight of the slanting sunbeams glancing through the boles and branches of the venerable trees dotted here and there in clumps along the roadside; of the verdant hedges with their rich clusters of delicate dog-roses and trailing honeysuckle or wild convolvulus; of the groups of sleek cattle feeding in the fields, contemplatively chewing the cud under the shade of some over-hanging tree, or browsing along the roadside; of the knots of rosy, sun-tanned children playing about the village-roads or on the green, and turning to stand open-mouthed and stare at the chaise as we dashed past; of the pretty cottages nestling in a bower of greenery, each with its tiny flower-garden in front, and a thin wreath of blue smoke curling up from its chimney into the still evening air; of the picturesque villages, with their ancient church-spires pointing heavenward; and of the stately country-seats of the gentry, surrounded by noble trees, the growth of centuries, the deer clustered beneath their umbrageous branches, with their spacious flower-terraces and long avenues of limes, arching chestnuts, or venerable oaks, reaching from the house to the distant road, and terminating in snug little ivy-covered lodges and heavy ornamental iron gates with massive stone piers, moss-grown, and surmounted by time-worn and weather-stained stone sculptures of the arms of the family; the drowsy chime of the church-clocks; the barking of dogs; the lowing of cattle; the voices of herdsmen or field-labourers singing as they wended their weary way homeward after the labour and heat of the day—the sound softened and mellowed by distance; all combined to render that journey one of the most pleasant and enjoyable I had ever undertaken, notwithstanding the pain and discomfort which I experienced from my wounded arm.

The evening passed on; the lovely, silent twilight insensibly deepened into night; the stars twinkled forth, one by one, in the pure, clear, deepening blue overhead; the road gradually widened; the houses along its sides became more and more frequent, the atmosphere thickened; the horizon ahead grew luminous; lights appeared and rapidly increased in number, soon they were glancing on both sides of us; a dull, heavy roar became audible, and finally, as the church-clocks were striking the hour of midnight, the chaise pulled up before the door of my uncle’s house in Saint James’s Square; and I had arrived in town.

As the post-boy let down the steps and threw open the carriage-door for me to alight, I could see through the fanlight over the door that there was a light in the hall, so I felt pretty certain that my uncle had not yet retired. I ran up the steps and gave the bell-handle a tug which speedily brought old Timothy to the door.

“Has Sir Peregrine retired yet, Tim?” said I.

“He has not, sir,” replied the ancient, “but I much doubt if he will see any one at such a late—Why, I declare, if it ain’t Master Ralph! Come in, sir; come in. Sir Peregrine is in the libr’y. Won’t he be glad to see you, just! He’s always looking through the paper to see if there’s any news of the ‘Juno,’ or if your name is mentioned, sir. This is an unexpected visit, though, Master Ralph; I hope there’s nothing wrong, sir.”

“Oh dear, no! quite the reverse I hope, Tim, my boy. I’ve been sent home with despatches. Now, lead the way to the library, if you please.”

This short confabulation passed in the hall while Tim was relieving me of my cloak and hat. He now preceded me to the library, at the door of which he knocked, and then, flinging open the portal, he announced me.

“Master Ralph, Sir Peregrine.”

I passed into the lofty apartment, its walls lined from floor to ceiling with well-stocked book-shelves, and found the worthy knight seated in his own particular old easy-chair, with one foot—ominously swathed in flannel—reposing upon another; his specs on his nose, and the gazette in his hand.

He looked round with a start as my name was mentioned, shaded his eyes with his hand for an instant, as his eyes fell upon my advancing figure, and then—forgetting all about his gout—started to his feet with both hands outstretched.

“Why, Ralph! My dear boy, where—confound this gout! Italwaysattacks me at exactly the wrong moment—but never mind; what cloud have you dropped from?”

“From no cloud at all, my dear sir, but just from an ordinary post-chaise, in which I have come up from Portsmouth. How are you, sir? I hope you have nothing worse than the gout to complain of. Wish you were free ofthat, for it must be very troublesome.”

“Troublesome enough, my boy, you may take my word for that; but the present attack is luckily very trifling—a mere fleabite, in fact. And how are you? You don’t look particularly bright, rather the reverse, indeed; and what is the matter with your arm?”

Thereupon I gave him a hasty outline of my story, so far at least as the cruise in the “Vigilant” was concerned; and then old Richards, the butler, brought in the supper; serving it, by Sir Peregrine’s orders, in the library, so that we might not be disturbed or my yarn interrupted by passing from one room to another.

We sat until close upon three o’clock a.m., my uncle forgetting all about bed in his anxiety to hear full particulars of my doings since I had last parted from him. At length, however, he glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece, and at once pulled me up short.

“There, there! that will do for to-night, my dear boy. I’ve forgotten everything in listening to you, and have allowed you to talk all this time instead of sending you straight off to your bunk, as I ought to have done, and you with a broken arm, too. But I am delighted to have heard all that you have told me—the gazette tells one nothing—and I can afford you the satisfaction of knowing that your name has attracted attention in the right quarter; Sir James has spoken to me about you on more than one occasion; and your promotion is certain. If you go on as you have begun, Ralph, I predict that you will mount the ratlines rapidly. Now, we will breakfast at ten o’clock, if that will suit you, and then I will go with you myself to the Admiralty with the despatches. My gout? Pooh! I’ll lay a crown it will be gone by the time I turn out in the morning; and if it is not, it is not bad enough to keep me at anchor here when I can perhaps do you a good turn. I’ll introduce you to Sir James; I should like him to see for himself the sort of lad you are. Now; good-night! Tim will attend to you. God bless you, my boy.”

I trundled off, Timothy leading the way with a light in each hand for the room which I had formerly occupied, and, having undressed with the assistance of my somewhat garrulous attendant, tumbled into the luxurious bed, and immediately fell into a sound sleep.

The arrangement of the previous night was duly carried out, Sir Peregrine’s gout having, as he had predicted, been merciful enough to afford him a respite.

We drove to the Admiralty, and I sent in my despatch-box. My uncle also sent in his card.

Half an hour elapsed, Sir James happening to be engaged when we arrived, and then Sir Peregrine was admitted to the august presence. Another half-hour passed, at the expiration of which time I also was invited into the sanctum. My uncle introduced me; Sir James uttered a few complimentary phrases upon my past conduct, informed me that “he had his eye upon me,” presented two fingers for me to shake, gave his entire hand to my uncle, and we were dismissed. As we passed through the outer office it was intimated to me that my presence would be required there at noon next day.

“That’s a good job well over,” ejaculated my uncle, as we once more seated ourselves in the carriage and drove off. “You are in high favour, let me tell you, my boy,” he continued. “Lord Hood has referred to you in very flattering terms in his despatches, in connexion with that hare-brained escapade of yours at Bastia; and Sir James has assured me of the very great satisfaction with which he views your conduct, and has promised moreover that he will take the earliest possible opportunity to show his appreciation of it. Now, where shall we go? I suppose you do not feel very much in cue for sight-seeing, with your wounded arm, eh? Very well; then we’ll drive to my tailor’s—you want a new gang of rigging put over your mast-head badly, my boy, and then we’ll go home and you shall rest a bit. I have a few friends coming to dinner this evening; but you need not join us if you do not feel equal to it, you know.”

The “new gang of rigging” was duly ordered, and faithfully promised for next day at noon—Sir Peregrine insisting upon its being charged to his account—and then we returned to Saint James’s Square.

With the dinner-hour my uncle’s guests arrived, some twenty in number; and, as I rather fancied the dear old gentleman would be glad if I were present, I put in an appearance. My suspicions were no doubt well founded, as it turned out that one of the guests was no less a personage than my new acquaintance of the morning—the great Sir James himself. The old boy was a good deal less taut in the backstays than he had been in the morning, giving me his whole hand to shake on this occasion. During dinner he addressed himself to me several times, putting questions to me with reference to our recent operations in Corsica—that happening to be one of the topics of conversation; and after the meal was over he invited me to haul alongside, and chatted with me quite half an hour upon the same subject. Later on in the evening I happened to overhear him remark to my uncle,—

“Like your nephew, Portfire—am much pleased with him—promising young officer—very—smart and intelligent—seems steady too—shall keep my eye on him.”

Which, of course, was very gratifying.

I drove to the office next day at noon, Sir Peregrine accompanying me, but this time he remained in his carriage while I went inside. My despatch-box was handed back to me, together with written orders—which were read over to me—to proceed without delay to Malta, there to hand over the contents of the said box to Lord Hood. In the event of his lordship not being there, I was to search for and find him.

“Well, Ralph, what news?” asked my uncle, as I rejoined him.

“I must leave you at once, dear sir,” I replied. “I have orders to sail forthwith for Malta, with these despatches. I had hoped they would have given me time to run down home, if only for a few hours; but all that is quite knocked on the head. As it is, I shall not be able to enjoy above another hour of your society, uncle, for I must start for Portsmouth without a moment’s delay.”

“Ah!” remarked Sir Peregrine, “I anticipated this, from a remark which Sir James let fall last night, and I have so far provided for it that we can start in an hour’s time. I feel so much better that I shall run down with you. We will post down in my own carriage, and after I have seen you fairly off, I will look in upon your father and spend a day or two with them on my way back to town. I shall then be able to tell them all about you.”

I tried to dissuade the old gentleman from undertaking so fatiguing a journey, but, having once made up his mind, there was no moving him from his purpose; and accordingly, having partaken of a good substantial luncheon, we started away about two p.m., and, after a pleasant, uneventful journey, reached Portsmouth a few minutes before eight o’clock in the evening.

We put up at the “George;” and, after ordering dinner, walked down to the harbour, and soon made out the “Vigilant,” anchored about a quarter of a mile away. The tide was still flowing a little; so, jumping into a wherry, we were soon alongside.

I found Smellie on board, and all hands, including a strong gang of dockyard workmen, still busy, late as it was, putting the finishing touches to the repairs. The provisions, water, and other stores had been shipped during the day; but the boat, to replace the one destroyed, would not be ready until the next morning.

My uncle had been trotting round, giving the little craft a thorough inspection, during the time I had been engaged with my junior, and expressed himself as being much pleased with her handsome model. When we were ready to return to the shore he proposed that we should take little Smellie with us; and we accordingly all three trundled over the side into the shore-boat, which we had detained—leaving Hardy to superintend the finishing touches—and rowed down the harbour again in the light of a beautiful, clear full moon.

Sir Peregrine was in high spirits that evening at dinner; he said it reminded him of his young days to be down there once more, and he completely unbent from his usual stateliness, so that we spent a most delightful evening, turning in about midnight.

I awoke early next morning, and, having roused out my second in command, we walked down to the dockyard to hurry the people up with the new boat, which they were just finishing off.

We returned to the hotel to breakfast at eight o’clock; and by ten a.m., having completed all my business on shore, we once more chartered a wherry, and went on board, my uncle accompanying us. On reaching the “Vigilant” I found that the new boat had been delivered and was hoisted in, the dockyard gang was clear of the ship, and everything was ready for an immediate start. I accordingly gave the word to unmoor, and in another quarter of an hour we passed out of the harbour with a nice little breeze from about N.N.E.

My uncle remained on board until we were abreast of Cowes, when he ordered the wherry—which had been towing astern—to be hauled alongside. The “Vigilant” was hove-to; my uncle shook hands with little Smellie, slipped a five-pound note into the hand of Chips, the carpenter’s mate, for the crew to drink my health, and then, taking a hasty but most affectionate leave of me, hurried over the side into the wherry, seized the yoke-lines, and bade the boatman make sail for Portsmouth Harbour. We at once filled away again; and two hours afterwards passed through the Needles.

Nothing worthy of note occurred until we were half-way across the Bay of Biscay, when, about four bells in the forenoon watch of a most delightful day, with a moderate breeze from the westward, and a very long swell, but no sea, the lookout man aloft reported a sail broad on our lee bow.

I was in the cabin at the time, reading.

“What does she look like?” inquired Smellie, who had the watch.

“I can only see the heads of her fore and main-topgallantsails,” replied the man, “but I believe she is a frigate, sir.”

Smellie came to the open skylight and spoke down through it:—

“I say, Chester, if it’s not troubling you too much, will you hand me up my glass, please? It is in the beckets, just inside the door of my berth. Here’s a strange sail to leeward, and I want to take a squint at her.”

I found the telescope, and carried it on deck myself. Master Harold slung it over his shoulder, and in another minute was perched on the long tapering yard of the lateen mainsail.

“What doyoumake her out to be?” I hailed him, after he had given her a careful overhauling for some three or four minutes.

“A frigate, without doubt,” he replied, his glass still levelled at her. “I can see her mizzen-royal-mast, with the yard across. Her sails are not large enough for a line-of-battle ship. Ha! she has hove in stays. Round she comes, smartly too. Why, she is setting her royals! Surely she can’t be coming after us?”

“As like as not,” returned I. “If we can see her, she can see us; and as a craft of our rig is a rather unusual sight just about here, it is not improbable that her skipper may wish to learn a little more about us. What is she—English or French, think you?”

“I believe she is French,” was the reply. “I had a good look at her canvas as she hove about, and it appeared to me to be decidedly Frenchified in shape.”

We were already hugging the wind as closely as was possible, and had every possible inch of canvas spread; so we could do nothing but stand on as we were going, and await the course of events.

Her sails rose rapidly above the horizon for the first hour or so, but after that, as we brought her moreonour quarter, they began to sink again. When about abeam of us, the stranger hoisted the tricolour at her gaff-end, fired a gun, and showed a signal from her main-royal mast-head, of which we could make nothing. We, however, hoisted the French flag also, and left them to make the best they could of it. After the first signal had been flying some time, it was hauled down, and another substituted, but with no better luck than before, and it was soon hauled down.

“She is after us, for a guinea,” said I.

“Ay, ay, nae doot o’ that,” quoth the old quarter-master; “but she’ll no catch us the gait she’s ganging the noo. This is oor ain weather, and I wad like brawly to see thefreegatethat can beat us wi’ nae mair wind than this. Yon Frenchman wad gie a hantle o’ siller to see the breeze freshen, but it’ll no do that yet awhile.”

The frigate stood on until she was well upon our weather quarter, by which time the heads of her topgallantsails were just visible from the deck, when, to remove any doubt that might have remained as to her intentions, she once more hove in stays and stood after us.

I went below and looked anxiously at the barometer; it was perfectly steady. I then returned to the deck and keenly scrutinised the sky; it was covered with patches of thin fleecy cloud which allowed the sun to show through, with broad patches of clear blue sky between; and the breeze was just fresh enough to curl the tops of the wavelets over in tiny flecks of foam, and to heel the “Vigilant” until our lee covering-board was just awash, with the clear, sparkling water occasionally welling up through the lee scuppers. It was, indeed, as old Sandy had remarked, the weather in which the little “Vigilant” stepped out to the greatest advantage, and I had very little fear of any square-rigged vessel being able to overhaul us so long as matters remainedin statu quo. I knew that we were sailing a good couple of points nearer the wind than was the Frenchman astern, and I believed we were going through the water nearly if not quite as fast as he was. By two bells in the afternoon watch the craft had dropped to leeward until she was a couple of points on our lee quarter, but she had certainly risen us a little, for by standing on the weather-rail I could see the heads of her topsails.

Matters remained in pretty much the same state for the rest of the day, excepting that our pursuer gradually tagged away farther and farther to leeward, until he was broad upon our lee quarter. Toward sun-down, however, the breeze began to freshen, and our pertinacious companion soon showed us how great an advantage this was to him, by the way in which he drew up on our lee beam.

When I went below to tea, I found that the barometer had fallen a little, and by the time that I had finished the meal and regained the deck, we were jerking through a short, choppy head-sea, with our lee bulwarks half-buried in the foam which hissed past our sides, the fore-deck drenched with the continuous heavy shower of spray which flew in over our weather bow, and our long yards swaying and bending as though each had been a fishing-rod with a lively salmon at the end of the line. I began to feel rather anxious, for the sea which the freshening breeze had knocked up was very detrimental toourspeed, while upon the frigate, owing to her vastly superior power, it had little or no effect.

Night at length fell. There was no moon, and the stars were partially obscured by the patches of cloud which covered the sky. I began to hope we were going to have a dark night, under cover of which we might give our pursuer the slip. As the darkness closed down upon us, and just before she vanished in the gloom, I took her bearings with the greatest accuracy. She had by this time crept up to within a couple of points abaft our lee beam, and from our deck the upper halves of her topsails were visible. I allowed half an hour to elapse, and then tried to find her with my night-glass. To my great disappointment, I did so without much difficulty; and, what was worse, she was fast drawing up abreast of us.

It was by this time as dark as it was likely to be, so I resolved to heave about at once, in hope that we might execute the manoeuvre undetected, and so give the Frenchman the slip. We accordingly tacked; and as soon as we were fairly round, and the sheets, etcetera, coiled down, I had another look for her. Presently the small dark patch swam into view, as I carefully swept the horizon at the point where I knew her to be, and, to my disappointment, it showed much shorter than before. She also had tacked.

“Umph!” I muttered, “their night-glasses are as good as my own, apparently.”

I began to see a French prison looming in the distance; for, from the rapidity with which she had tacked, and the manner in which, notwithstanding our superior weatherliness, she was overhauling us, I knew that our pursuer must be an exceedingly smart ship, and her skipper was acting like a man who had all his wits about him.

All our lights were of course most carefully masked—a tarpaulin being thrown over the cabin skylight, and a seaman’s jacket over the binnacle, the helmsman steering by a star.

We stood on thus for about a couple of hours after tacking, and I was seriously debating in my mind the possibility of giving the Frenchman the slip by lowering away all our canvas and then running to leeward under bare poles, my eyes resting abstractedly upon a brilliant planet broad upon our weather bow, which was just on the point of dipping below the horizon, when suddenly the said planet vanished. I took no notice of this until it as suddenly reappeared in the space of a few seconds.

“Another sail, by all that’s complicating!” I ejaculated.

“Another sail! Where away, sir?” exclaimed Hardy, who was standing between me and the helmsman.

“Just to the southward of that bright planet on the horizon, broad on our larboard bow,” said I, as I levelled my glass. “Ah! there she is. Another frigate, by the look of her—hull up, too.”

“Phew!” whistled Hardy; “that’s rather awk’ard; she may pick us out any minute. But perhaps she’s English, sir. You don’t often see two French ships so close together as this here. Can you see her pretty plain, sir?”

“Not very,” I replied. “But I fancy there’s an English look about her.”

“Letmetake a squint at her, sir.”

I handed him over the glass, and he took a good long look at her. Suddenly he handed the glass back to me.

“She’s English, sir! I’ll take my oath of it!” he exclaimed. “She’s the ‘Amethyst,’ that’s what she is. I knows her by the way her fore-topmast and topgallant-mast is looking over her bows. There ain’t another ship afloat as has got such a kink in her foremast as the ‘Amethyst,’ and that’s her, sir, as sure as I’m Tom Hardy.”

“Are youquitecertain?” I inquired. “Do not speak rashly because the consequences may prove serious to us. If you arepositiveabout the matter, I will signal him and turn the tables upon our friend astern.”

“Let me take another look, sir.”

I handed over the glass, and he took another long look at her.

“Fire away with your lanterns, sir, as soon as you like,” said he. “I’ll stake my liberty that yon craft is none other than the ‘Amethyst.’ She’s a twenty-eight; but her skipper is man enough to give a good account of Johnny, I’ll be bound.”

“Then rouse out the lanterns, and let’s make the private signal,” said I. “But instead of hoisting them at our peak, where the Frenchman will see them and perhaps suspect something, haul the staysail down, get a block well up on the fore-stay, and we will run them up there; our sails will then hide them from the craft astern.”

So said, so done; we showed the private signal, and in less than a minute it was properly answered, upon which we telegraphed the news that a French frigate was about ten miles astern in chase of us.

Our signal was duly acknowledged; and immediately afterwards the “Amethyst”—for she it was—bore up.

I now looked for the French frigate, to see if I could observe anything to show that they had seen the English frigate’s signal lanterns; but she was still carrying on upon the same tack, and, as I judged that she and the “Amethyst” were about seventeen miles apart, I hoped that the lights had escaped her notice.

In about twenty minutes the “Amethyst” passed us, a mile to windward, and apparently steering a course which would run her slap on board the Frenchman in another half-hour. There was not a light to be seen anywhere about her; but for all that I knew that her crew were wide awake and busy. She was running down under courses, topsails, spanker, and jib, her topgallant-yards down upon the caps, with the sails clewed up, but not furled; royals stowed.

“Nowwe shall see some fun shortly,” exclaimed Smellie, in high glee—he having got an inkling that something out of the common was toward, in that mysterious way in which peopledolearn such things on board a small ship, and had accordingly come on deck. But he was mistaken for once, if by the termfunhe meant a frigate action; for old Clewline, the skipper of the “Amethyst,” was too seasoned a hand to do anything rashly. He ran down, his ship as dark as the grave, until he had attained a position about two miles dead to windward of our pursuer, when he hauled up and showed the private signal at his gaff-end. The French frigate immediately edged away about four points and showed some lanterns, but they were not a reply to the “Amethyst’s” signal; so Clewline tried another—to make quite sure of avoiding any mistake. This was not answered at all; on the contrary, the Frenchman hauled down his lanterns and wore short round, crowding sail at the same moment; whereupon the “Amethyst” also bore up again and—Clewline must have had his men aloft all the time, ready for the emergency—as she squared away in chase, we saw her stunsails fluttering out to their boom-ends on both sides. We then tacked and resumed our original course once more, heartily thankful for our escape, and chuckling mightily at the thought of the trap Johnny Crapaud had run his nose into. In less than half an hour afterwards we lost sight of both ships.

We reached Gibraltar without further incident, and failing there to obtain any intelligence as to Lord Hood’s whereabouts, we filled up our water and sailed again for Malta the same evening. We had a splendid but perfectly uneventful run from the Rock, a westerly wind and fine weather prevailing during the whole trip.

On our arrival at Malta I learned that the “Victory” was lying at Genoa, and thither we accordingly went, picking up on the way a small French schooner from the Levant, laden with fruit. We were over three weeks on the passage, having an alternation of calms and strong head-winds to contend with; so that I was heartily glad when we at length found ourselves in port, and themud-hookdown.

The “Juno” was also there, and, on delivering my despatches and making my report, I was ordered to give up the command of the “Vigilant” to the senior mid belonging to the “Victory,” and to rejoin my own ship. This, of course, I at once did; and I was not at all sorry to get back once more among my old shipmates, from whom I had been separated for so long a time.

I had not left the “Victory” many minutes before the signal was made for our skipper to repair on board the flag-ship. His boat was still alongside that craft when I went up over the “Juno’s” side with my trifling belongings; but by the time that I had stowed them away and had found my way on deck, Captain Hood was back again on board his own ship, and in conference with the first lieutenant in the former’s cabin. It was not long before the first luff reappeared—with such a delighted expression upon his face that we at once felt certain he had heard pleasant news, and very soon it came out that I had brought, among my despatches, the order for the “Juno” to return home and pay off.

“Hurrah for old England!” was now the cry; everybody was in the highest of spirits, for there was literally nothing to do but up anchor and away, which was promptly done, so that I scarcely spent half a dozen hours in the port of Genoa, the “Juno” sailing on the evening of the day on which the “Vigilant” had arrived.

We were nearly a month in reaching as far as Gibraltar; but after getting fairly through the Gut and round Saint Vincent we made short miles of it, the girls having taken hold of the tow-rope, as Jack says, and eventually arrived at Spithead without the occurrence of any circumstance worth recording. The ship was paid off next day, and I was enabled to return once more, after an absence of nearly two years, to the paternal roof.

Chapter Twenty Four.Westward Ho!I found all hands at home in the best of health, and received of course a hearty welcome from them. My father appeared to be exactly as I had left him, not a day older; but my mother had gathered an extra wrinkle or two about the comers of her eyes, I thought, and the grey hairs were mustering pretty strongly. Poor soul! all the stress and strain fell upon her; it was she who had all the planning, the cutting, and contriving to make both ends meet; and it was no wonder if she showed here and there a scar received in the tough battle. The girls showed the greatest alteration, and, I may add, improvement of appearance, for they had developed from pretty girls into most lovely women—at leastIthought so.I had been home a fortnight when my uncle, Sir Peregrine Portfire, to whom I had written shortly after my arrival, came down, and took up his quarters with us. Life under the old roof-tree was very quiet and uneventful, and nothing worthy of note occurred for the first six weeks of my stay. I was taking matters quietly for a while, as I thought I was justified in doing, when, about the end of the time I have named, a chaise drove up to the door one evening, about half an hour before the appearance of dinner upon the table, and out jumped Mr Annesley. I was delighted to see him, and forthwith introduced him to my father and Sir Peregrine, both of whom gave him a most cordial welcome. My mother and the girls were dressing for dinner at the time.On dinner being announced, our newly-arrived and self-invited guest took my sister Florrie in tow, and, having convoyed her safely to a chair, brought himself to an anchor alongside her, playing the agreeable so effectively that he quite absorbed Miss Florrie’s attention during the meal. On the departure of the ladies, the object of his visit came out. He had, in just recognition of his services, been appointed to the command of a new frigate, named the “Astarte,” which was then fitting-out at Portsmouth for the West India station; and he had hunted me up to see if I would go with him. I at once frankly told him there was nothing I should like better; and, as my uncle also approved of the proposal, the question was settled then and there.I learned, with a great deal of pleasure, that he had secured as his first lieutenant, Mr Flinn, our quondam “second” on board the “Juno.” Bob Summers and little Smellie were also going to be with us once more, so that we promised to be quite a family party. Mr Flinn, it appeared, had already joined, as well as the second lieutenant, Summers, Smellie, and another midshipman; the former, assisted by Smellie and the new mid, being engaged in superintending the fitting-out of the ship, while the second lieutenant and Master Bob were getting together a crew. The two latter were taking their time about this business—Captain Annesley being very anxious to have a thorough picked crew—but they had succeeded in securing some five and twenty of the primest seamen lately paid off from the “Juno,” as well as about forty other good men. My new skipper was kind enough to say that I need be in no hurry to join, as he would write and let me know when my services were required.These matters settled, we joined the ladies, and, as it seemed to me, the skipper was again very attentive to Florrie, turning over the pages of her music, joining her in a duet or two, and reeling off small-talk by the fathom between whiles.Next morning, after an early breakfast, we—that is, Captain Annesley, my uncle, and I—started for Portsmouth; the former to remain there and watch the progress of work on board the “Astarte,” my uncle and I to just take a look at the new craft and get back home again in time for dinner.A smart drive of an hour and a half landed us at the “George” in Portsmouth, and we forthwith proceeded to the dockyard and on board. The craft was still alongside the sheers, but her lower-masts were in and rigged, the tops over the mast-heads, and the three topmasts all ready for going aloft. She proved to be an 18-pounder 38-gun frigate, with a flush upper-deck fore and aft, which presented a beautifully spacious appearance to us who had been accustomed to the cramped look of the “Juno’s” upper-deck, cut into by the poop and topgallant-forecastle. Her hull was very long, and rather lower in proportion than that of the “Juno;” and her lines were as fine as it had been possible to make them. The joiners were still busily at work upon the captain’s cabin and the gun-room, and everything was in a state of indescribable litter and confusion, but I saw enough to satisfy me that my new ship was as fine a craft of her class as ever slid off the stocks, and I looked forward to a happy and stirring life on board her. Having taken a good look round her in every part, shaken hands with little Smellie, and made the acquaintance of the new mid, a little shrimp of a fellow named Fisher, my uncle and I started for home again.On the day but one following, Sir Peregrine and I trundled up to town to see about my outfit, as there were several things I should require on the West India station that had not been necessary in the Mediterranean. On our return we found the skipper comfortably domiciled in his former quarters. Things, he said, were going on so satisfactorily at Portsmouth that he had felt no hesitation about leaving everything to Mr Flinn and accepting an invitation—which my father had pressed upon him on the occasion of his first visit—to spend Christmas at the rectory, and to indulge in the unwonted luxury of a thorough rest.My father was always busy with his parish-work, and Sir Peregrine’s gout precluded the possibility of his taking much outdoor exercise, so the duty of entertaining our guest devolved almost wholly upon the girls and myself. And I must say that our efforts in that direction appeared to be crowned with signal success. We had a spin after the hounds once or twice, and did a little shooting, but my superior officer appeared to enjoy the skating-parties most, when the frost would allow us to indulge in this pastime, and I could not help noticing how regularly we seemed to separate into two parties; the skipper invariably pairing off with Florrie, and leaving Amy to my care and pilotage.At length a letter came from Mr Flinn to say that the ship was all ataunto, and would in another eight-and-forty hours be quite ready for sea. It arrived while we were at breakfast; and as he announced its contents and intimated that we must both be off forthwith, I saw my sister Florence go pale to the lips for a moment and then flush up as though the blood would burst through her delicate skin. The news threw a complete damper upon the previously merry party, and the meal was finished in almost perfect silence. At length my father returned thanks and rose to retire to his study. As he did so Captain Annesley also rose and said something to him in a low tone, which seemed to me to be a request for a few moments’ private conversation. My father bowed, and led the way to the library, with the skipper following close in his wake.They were closeted together nearly an hour, and when the man-o’-war rejoined us, the first thing he did was to carry Florrie off to the conservatory. My mother was, as usual, at that hour, busy in her own snuggery with the cook, so that Amy and I found ourselves left alone in the drawing-room, Sir Peregrine having retired to the terrace for his morning smoke. I began by this time to see pretty clearly what was in the wind; so when Amy proposed that I should accompany her as far as old Mrs Jones’ cottage, I assented with effusion. We returned just in time to sit down to luncheon; and when we took our places at table, Florrie’s look of mingled joy and sadness, the sparkling diamond upon her engaged finger, and the elated look upon my skipper’s handsome face told me all that I had before only shrewdly suspected.Immediately after luncheon, the carriage was brought round, our traps tumbled on board, and the skipper and I started for Portsmouth, after a most affecting leave-taking all round. Poor Florrie bore up bravely until the very last moment, when, as Annesley took her hand and bent over her to say good-bye, her fortitude completely deserted her, and, flinging herself into his arms, she sobbed as if her heart would break. I felt a lump rise in my own throat as I sat an unwilling witness to her distress; while as for Annesley—but avast! we are bound on a quest for honour and glory, so stow away the tear-bottles, coil down all tender feeling out of sight, and Westward Ho! for the land of Yellow Jack.On the day but one following, we sailed from Spithead in half a gale of wind from E.N.E., with frequent snow-squalls; pretty much the same weather in fact as we had on the eventful occasion of my sailing in the “Scourge.” We looked into Plymouth Sound on out way, assumed the convoy of a fleet of some seventeen sail, and proceeded.Oh! the misery of convoy-duty. To feel that you have a smart ship underfoot and a crew who will shrink from nothing their skipper may put them alongside, and to be doomed to drag along, day after day, under close-reefed topsails, in order to avoid running away from the sluggish, deep-laden merchantmen; with signalling and gun-firing going on day and night, restraining the swift and urging on the slow; with an occasional cruise round the entire fleet to keep them well together, and an everlasting anxious lookout to see that no fast-sailing privateer or pirate sneaks in and picks up one of your charges—it is almost as bad as blockading.However, all things come to an end sooner or later; and we were looking forward to a speedy release from our annoyances—having arrived within a couple of days’ sail of the Mona Passage—when just after sun-rise the lookout aloft reported a small object apparently a boat, about five miles distant on our port bow. As the weather was beautifully fine, with our convoy bowling along under every rag of canvas they could spread, and no sign of any lurking picaroons in our neighbourhood, the skipper had our course altered, so as to give the strange object an overhaul. As we ran rapidly down upon it, we perceived that it was indeed a boat, but she showed neither mast nor oar, and we were unable to distinguish any one on board her. When within a mile of her, however, the lookout hailed to say he thought he saw some people lying down in her bottom. A few minutes more, and our doubts were removed by the sight of some person rising for a moment into a sitting position and then sinking down into the bottom of the boat again.“A shipwrecked crew, apparently,” observed the skipper; “but why don’t they out oars and stand by to pull alongside?”“Perhaps they are lying asleep, tired out with a long spell of pulling already?” suggested Mr Woods, the second lieutenant.Five minutes afterwards we swept close past her.“Boat ahoy!” hailed the skipper; and once more a figure appeared for a moment above the boat’s gunwale, waved its hand feebly, and sank down again. But—merciful Heaven! what a sight it was, which was thus momentarily presented to our view. The figure was that of a full-grown man clad in the ordinary garb of a Spanish seaman, but the clothes hung about it in rags, and the features were so shrunken that the skin appeared as though strained over a naked skull.“Good God!” ejaculated Captain Annesley. “Why, they are in the last stage of starvation. Round-to and back the main-yard, if you please, Mr Flinn. Mr Chester, take the gig, and tow them alongside. Where’s the doctor?”I jumped into the gig, with six hands; she was lowered down, the tackles unhooked, and away we went. A few strokes took us alongside the boat; and I then saw a sight which I shall never forget. The boat seemed full of bodies, all huddled together in the bottom in such a way that it was impossible to count them as they lay there, and the stench which arose was so sickening that we had to hold our nostrils while the painter was being cleared away and made fast.We were soon alongside the frigate once more, and the doctor with his assistant at once jumped down into the Spanish boat and proceeded to examine its occupants. Three of them proved to be still alive; the remainder were dead and rotted almost out of the semblance of humanity. The survivors were hoisted as carefully as possible on board the frigate; and then, as the best means we could think of for disposing of the boat and her dreadful freight, half a dozen eighteen-pound shot were passed down into her, a plank knocked out of her bottom, and she was left to sink, which she did before the frigate had sailed many yards from the spot.The survivors were tended all that day with the utmost care by our worthy medico, and toward evening he was enabled to announce the gratifying intelligence that he hoped to save them all. The next day they were very much better; and on the day following one of them—the man whom we had seen rise up in the boat—was strong enough to tell us his story. I will not repeat it in all its dreadful details of suffering; suffice it to say that their ship, homeward-bound from Saint Iago, had been attacked by a piratical schooner, the crew of which, after rifling and scuttling the ship, had turned the crew adrift in one of their own boats, without provisions or water, masts or sails; and there they had been, drifting helplessly about the ocean for the to them endless period of nineteen days, without seeing a single sail until we hove in sight.On the fifth day after rescuing these poor creatures we arrived at Port Royal, where we anchored, while such of our convoy as were bound for Kingston went on up the harbour.I had heard much respecting the beauty of the Island of Jamaica; and its appearance from the sea, as we had drawn in toward our anchorage, was such as to satisfy me that its attractions had not been overrated. I was anxious to have a run ashore; and was therefore very glad when the skipper, who had business at Kingston, invited me to go with him. I ought to have mentioned, by-the-bye, that he had long ago taken me into his confidence with regard to his engagement to Florrie—had done so, in fact, within a quarter of an hour of the time when he bade her good-bye, so that, though of course he was still the skipper in public, when we happened to be by ourselves he sank the superior officer, and merged into the friendly intimacy of the prospective brother-in-law.We jumped into the gig and rowed ashore to the wharf at Port Royal, it being the skipper’s intention to take a wherry for the trip to Kingston. The moment that our wants were made known, the black boatmen crowded round us in a perfect mob, each extolling the merits of his own boat and depreciating those of the others. From words they soon came to blows, the combatants lowering their heads and butting at each other like goats, until one Hercules of a fellow, having won by force of arms—or rather, by the superior thickness and strength of his woolly skull—the right to convey us to our destination, we were led in triumph by him to his boat, and comfortably stowed away in the stern-sheets. The sea-breeze had by this time set in; and in a few minutes more we were tearing along the five-foot channel at a slashing pace. As we spun along toward our destination, I could not help remarking upon the perfect safety from attack by an enemy which Kingston enjoys. In the first place, the approach from the outside is of so difficult a character, in consequence of the narrowness and intricacy of the channels between the outlying shoals and reefs, that it would be almost impossible for a stranger to find his way in. If, however, he should by any chance get safely as far as Port Royal, its defences would assuredly stop his further progress; and then, as though these were not deemed sufficient, a little way up the harbour we come to the Apostle’s Battery; beyond which again is Fort Augusta. Altogether I think I never saw a more strongly-defended place, excepting, of course, Gibraltar.In due time we reached the wherry-wharf at Kingston, and landed. A quarter of an hour’s walk under the piazzas which line the streets in the lower part of the town brought us to Mr Martin’s store, whither we were bound, and on inquiring for him, we were at once shown into his office. The skipper introduced himself and me, explained his business, which was soon done, and then we rose to leave.As Mr Martin shook hands with us, he said,—“Excuse me, gentlemen, but have you any engagements for to-day?”The skipper replied that we had not, we were both strange to the place, and we proposed chartering a carriage for a drive into the country, in order that we might see a few of the far-famed beauties of the island.“Then pray allow me to be your pilot,” said our new friend. “I have really nothing particular to attend to to-day, and I shall be very happy to show you round. If you can spare so much time, I am going this afternoon to visit a sugar-estate of mine a few miles out of town, stay the night, and return to-morrow morning after breakfast, and I shall be delighted to have the pleasure of your company.”Nothing could have suited us better; we accordingly accepted his invitation, and forthwith set off to see what there was to be seen of the town. In the course of our peregrinations we met and were introduced to several of our host’s friends, each of whom shook hands with us as though he had known us all our lives, and forthwith gave us a pressing invitation to his “place.”About four o’clock we returned to Mr Martin’s store, where we found his ketureen—a sort of gig—waiting, and also that of a Mr Finnie, another sugar-planter who was going to make one of the party. The skipper jumped in alongside of Mr Martin, I stowed myself away alongside his friend, and away we dashed up the sandy streets and out of town in the direction of the Blue Mountains.We reached the estate, and the house upon it, just in time to escape a violent thunder-storm, accompanied by such rain as I had never seen before. It came down literally insheets, completely obscuring everything beyond a couple of dozen yards distant, and rattling upon the thatched roof as though it would beat it in. It lasted about an hour, ceasing as suddenly as it had commenced, and leaving the air clear, cool, and pure.We had a most excellent dinner, washed down by a glass or two of good wine; some capital stories illustrative of life on the island were told; and about midnight we all turned in, I, for one, being almost knocked up by my tramp about Kingston, after the confinement of the ship.The next morning we took a walk over the estate before breakfast, visiting the negroes’ quarters, the sugar-mill, and other buildings, and gaining thereby an appetite which proved most destructive to our host’s pickled mackerel, cold boiled tongue, eggs, etcetera. We made a clean sweep of the comestibles, washed all down with a cup or two of tea, and then started for Kingston, finally arriving on board the “Astarte” about noon.We remained at Port Royal two days longer, during which we gave the craft a brush of paint inside and out, and otherwise titivated her up after her run out from England, when we received orders to sail upon a three-months’ cruise among the Windward Islands. We accordingly weighed, and stood out to sea with the first of the land breeze; and, having cleared the shoals, hauled up on the port tack, keeping close under the land to take all possible advantage of the land breeze in making our easting. By midnight we were off Morant Point, from which we took our departure; and in another hour were tearing along under topgallant-sails, upon a taut bowline, and looking well up for the Island of Grenada, under the influence of a strong trade-wind.The skipper was most anxious to thoroughly test the sailing powers of the “Astarte,” this being the first time that an opportunity had occurred for so doing; and we accordingly carried on all next day, taxing the toughness of our spars to their utmost limit, and so satisfactory was the result that all hands, fore and aft, felt sanguine that we should meet with very few craft able to beat us either in the matter of speed or weatherliness. The “Astarte” also proved to be a very pretty sea-boat, though a trifle wet when being driven hard—but then, what craft is not?As we drew to the southward the trade-wind hauled round a trifle farther from the eastward, its prevailing direction being about E.N.E. This broke us off a couple of points, and set us so much the more to leeward, but beyond that we had nothing to complain of, for the weather continued fine, and the breeze strong and steady.On the evening of our third day out from Kingston we sighted land on the lee bow, which turned out to be the south end of the Island of Oruba, off the entrance to the Gulf of Maracaybo. We weathered the island cleverly before dark, though without very much room to spare, and passed in between it and Curaçao, making land again about six bells in the middle watch, on the mainland this time, about Hicacos Point. At eight bells in the same watch we tacked ship and stood off shore; and when the sun rose, the Island of Curaçao appeared upon our weather bow. Continuing upon the starboard tack all that day, we hove about again at the beginning of the first dog-watch, thinking that we might possibly be able to pick up a stray Spaniard or Dutchman.On the following afternoon, about four p.m., land was once more made, directly ahead.“Land!” murmured little Fisher—who from his diminutive stature had acquired from his fellow-mids the sobriquet of “Six-foot”—“Land! it’s nothing but ‘land ho!’ What landisit, for gracious sake?” to Mr Carter, the master’s-mate, who happened to be standing near him.“The Rocca Islands,” answered Carter. “The master says it’s a likely spot in which to find a pirate’s nest—just a group of some five-and-twenty rocks, they are not much larger, and one island about ten miles long and six wide, with reefs and shoals all round. Did you ever smell gunpowder, Six-foot?”“Not yet,” answered little Fisher, “but you know this is only my second voyage?”“And your first was from London to Margate, eh? Well, perhaps you’ll have a chance of smelling it before long.” And Carter walked away forward.The little fellow flushed up crimson, and then went pale to the lips.“Why, Six-foot, what’s the matter with you; you are not frightened, are you? Carter was only joking.”“Was he?” said the boy, “I didn’t know. You asked me if I felt frightened, Ralph, I don’t know whether it was fright or not, but I felt very queer. You know I have never been in action yet, and I think it must be sodreadfulto hear the shot crashing in through the ship’s sides, and to see strong men struck down maimed and bleeding, or perhaps killed outright, and I have a horrible feeling that when I see these things for the first time I shall turn sick and faint, and perhaps misbehave in some way. And I wouldn’t act like a coward for the world; my father is a very proud man, and I don’t think he would ever forgive me for bringing such disgrace on his name.”I could understand the poor little fellow’s feelings perfectly, I thought, for had I not experienced something of the same kind myself? I cheered him up as well as I could; telling him that whenever the time came I felt sure he would behave perfectly well, and that with the firing of the first shot all trace of the peculiar and unpleasant sensations of which he spoke would pass completely away.I was still talking with him when the skipper's steward came up to us with an invitation for both to dinner in the cabin. The subject was accordingly dropped, and we hurried away to dress.We were just finishing our soup when Mr Vining, the third lieutenant, came down to say that two ships had just rounded the southernmost end of the large island, and were working their way in among the shoals towards a small shallow bay on the north, western side.“What do they look like, Mr Vining?” queried the skipper.“One is a full-rigged ship, apparently of about six hundred tons; the other is a low, wicked-looking brigantine, sir, very loftily rigged, and with an immense spread of canvas.”“Um!” said the skipper. “Just keep a sharp eye upon them, if you please, Mr Vining, and see what you can make of them. I’ll be on deck shortly.”The second lieutenant withdrew, and we hurried on with the meal. By the time that we had finished and were on deck once more, the sun had set, and the short twilight of the tropics was upon us. The islands—mere rocks, as Carter had said—forming the western extremity of the group were already on our lee beam; the nearest of them being about three miles distant, while others stretched away to leeward of them right away to the horizon, and even beyond it. Key Grande, the largest of the group, lay right ahead, distant about fifteen miles; while El Roque, another island, lay broad upon our weather bow, about five miles distant. The lookout aloft reported the two strange sail to be just anchoring.“We’ve stayed below a trifle too long, I’m afraid,” said the skipper; “we shall have darkness upon us in ten minutes. Mr Chester, kindly slip up to the topsail-yard and see what you can make out about the strangers, if you please.”“I’ll come with you, Ralph, my boy,” said Mr Flinn. “Four eyes are better than two; and, as I see that the skipper means to give them an overhaul, it is as well that we should learn all we can about them beforehand.”We accordingly shinned up the ratlines together, and were soon comfortably settled on the fore-topsail-yard. We remained there until the brief twilight had so far faded that it was impossible to make out more than the general outline of the ships, and then we descended and made our report.The said report amounted to this. The brigantine, we had quite made up our minds, was either a privateer or a pirate, but of what nationality, if the former, we were not quite clear, and the ship we took to be a Spaniard of about five hundred tons. The water was breaking so confusedly among and over the reefs ahead of us that we felt very doubtful whether the boats—much less the ship—could find a way through; but we were of opinion that there was a narrow belt of clear water close to the shore.Mr Martin, the master, had meanwhile brought up the chart and spread it open upon the capstan-head; but the moment that we looked at it and compared it with what we saw around us, it became evident that it was by no means to be relied upon, so far at least as this particular spot was concerned.“’Bout ship at once, if you please, Mr Flinn,” said the skipper. “We’ll go no nearer—onthisside at all events—I don’t half like being so close as we are now. We’ll furl the topgallant-sails and take down a reef in the topsails also.”It was done. The reefs now lay astern of us, Key Grande bore well upon our starboard quarter, and El Roque was ahead of us, a trifle upon our weather bow.“Keep her away a point, quarter-master, and give that island ahead a wide berth,” said the skipper.“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Gimbals; and I thought his voice sounded strange and melancholy in the deepening gloom.We were now standing to the northward, or about N. by W., under single-reefed topsails, and were going about nine knots, the spot we were in being sheltered by the islands and shoals to windward, and the water consequently smooth. In about half an hour’s time, however, the frigate passed out from under the lee of El Roque, and we were once more tearing and thrashing through the short head-sea. The sky to leeward, still aglow with the fading splendour which marked the path of the departed sun, strongly tinged the water in its wake with tints of the purest amber and ruby, against which the wave-crests leaped up black as ink, while the ocean everywhere else showed a dark indigo hue. Overhead, in the darkening ether, the stars were twinkling out one by one; while away to windward the sky, already nearly as dark as it would be that night, was thickly powdered with a million glittering points.We continued upon the starboard tack until two bells in the first watch, when, the skipper being of opinion that we had made sufficient offing to go to windward of everything, we tacked ship and stood to the southward and eastward again. It was by this time quite dark, although starlight; and we knew that if the strangers inside had kept a watch upon us, they would have seen us still standing off the land as long as it was possible to see anything at all; and, this being the case, we hoped they would jump to the conclusion that they had seen the last of us, for that night at least, and think no more about us.By six bells we were dead to windward of the eastern end of El Roque, and about ten miles from it, when we edged away a couple of points, and, getting a good pull upon the weather-braces, went rolling and plunging down past the weather side of Key Grande, giving the land a wide berth however, and stationing extra lookouts—the keenest-eyed men in the ship—to watch for any signs of broken water.Two hours after bearing up, we were off the south-east angle of the island, when we wore ship, and, shortening sail to close-reefed topsails, jib, and spanker, dodged quietly in toward the land, under the lee of which we soon found ourselves. A couple of leadsmen were sent into the chains, and the lead kept constantly going, but we found there was plenty of water, so we stood on until we got into eight fathoms, when, being completely sheltered, we let go the anchor, and stowed our canvas.It was by this time about two o’clock a.m. The boats had been prepared long before, and nothing now remained but to lower away, unhook, and be off.As soon as the sails were furled, Captain Annesley went below to his cabin, and immediately sent for Mr Flinn, Mr Vining, Mr Martin, and me. We trundled down one after the other, and found our chief bending anxiously over a chart which was lying spread open upon the cabin-table.“Pray be seated, gentlemen,” said he; “draw your chairs up to the table, and you will all be able to follow me upon the chart. Here is where we are,”—making a pencil dot on the chart to indicate the position of the frigate—“and here, as nearly as possible, is where the ship and brigantine are lying,”—a cross serving to indicate their position. “Now I feel myself to be in a position of some little difficulty. I have very little doubt in my own mind that these two ships belong to our enemies, but I am notsureof it; and to attack a vessel belonging to a friendly power would be a most deplorable accident. On the other hand, if we wait until daylight before doing anything, we run the risk of losing a good many of our men; for I should not feel justified in taking the frigate into the midst of so many unknown dangers, and an attack with the boats in broad daylight would give them ample time to make all their preparations for giving us a hot reception. I am inclined to think that the crews of those two craft will have no expectation of hearing from us to-night; and I have therefore determined to send in the boats to reconnoitre. You, Mr Flinn, will have charge of the expedition, and will take the launch. Mr Vining will take the first cutter, and Mr Martin the second, while Mr Chester, in the gig, must go ahead and endeavour to steal alongside the strange craft without giving the alarm, find out their nationality—while you lie off at a distance—and return to you with his report. If they are friends, there is no harm done; and if they are enemies, do as you think best.”A few words of advice followed, and we then returned to the deck. The boats were lowered, a twelve-pound carronade placed in the bows of the launch, the fighting-crews paraded, and their weapons examined to see that everything was in fighting order, and then we trundled down over the side and shoved off.

I found all hands at home in the best of health, and received of course a hearty welcome from them. My father appeared to be exactly as I had left him, not a day older; but my mother had gathered an extra wrinkle or two about the comers of her eyes, I thought, and the grey hairs were mustering pretty strongly. Poor soul! all the stress and strain fell upon her; it was she who had all the planning, the cutting, and contriving to make both ends meet; and it was no wonder if she showed here and there a scar received in the tough battle. The girls showed the greatest alteration, and, I may add, improvement of appearance, for they had developed from pretty girls into most lovely women—at leastIthought so.

I had been home a fortnight when my uncle, Sir Peregrine Portfire, to whom I had written shortly after my arrival, came down, and took up his quarters with us. Life under the old roof-tree was very quiet and uneventful, and nothing worthy of note occurred for the first six weeks of my stay. I was taking matters quietly for a while, as I thought I was justified in doing, when, about the end of the time I have named, a chaise drove up to the door one evening, about half an hour before the appearance of dinner upon the table, and out jumped Mr Annesley. I was delighted to see him, and forthwith introduced him to my father and Sir Peregrine, both of whom gave him a most cordial welcome. My mother and the girls were dressing for dinner at the time.

On dinner being announced, our newly-arrived and self-invited guest took my sister Florrie in tow, and, having convoyed her safely to a chair, brought himself to an anchor alongside her, playing the agreeable so effectively that he quite absorbed Miss Florrie’s attention during the meal. On the departure of the ladies, the object of his visit came out. He had, in just recognition of his services, been appointed to the command of a new frigate, named the “Astarte,” which was then fitting-out at Portsmouth for the West India station; and he had hunted me up to see if I would go with him. I at once frankly told him there was nothing I should like better; and, as my uncle also approved of the proposal, the question was settled then and there.

I learned, with a great deal of pleasure, that he had secured as his first lieutenant, Mr Flinn, our quondam “second” on board the “Juno.” Bob Summers and little Smellie were also going to be with us once more, so that we promised to be quite a family party. Mr Flinn, it appeared, had already joined, as well as the second lieutenant, Summers, Smellie, and another midshipman; the former, assisted by Smellie and the new mid, being engaged in superintending the fitting-out of the ship, while the second lieutenant and Master Bob were getting together a crew. The two latter were taking their time about this business—Captain Annesley being very anxious to have a thorough picked crew—but they had succeeded in securing some five and twenty of the primest seamen lately paid off from the “Juno,” as well as about forty other good men. My new skipper was kind enough to say that I need be in no hurry to join, as he would write and let me know when my services were required.

These matters settled, we joined the ladies, and, as it seemed to me, the skipper was again very attentive to Florrie, turning over the pages of her music, joining her in a duet or two, and reeling off small-talk by the fathom between whiles.

Next morning, after an early breakfast, we—that is, Captain Annesley, my uncle, and I—started for Portsmouth; the former to remain there and watch the progress of work on board the “Astarte,” my uncle and I to just take a look at the new craft and get back home again in time for dinner.

A smart drive of an hour and a half landed us at the “George” in Portsmouth, and we forthwith proceeded to the dockyard and on board. The craft was still alongside the sheers, but her lower-masts were in and rigged, the tops over the mast-heads, and the three topmasts all ready for going aloft. She proved to be an 18-pounder 38-gun frigate, with a flush upper-deck fore and aft, which presented a beautifully spacious appearance to us who had been accustomed to the cramped look of the “Juno’s” upper-deck, cut into by the poop and topgallant-forecastle. Her hull was very long, and rather lower in proportion than that of the “Juno;” and her lines were as fine as it had been possible to make them. The joiners were still busily at work upon the captain’s cabin and the gun-room, and everything was in a state of indescribable litter and confusion, but I saw enough to satisfy me that my new ship was as fine a craft of her class as ever slid off the stocks, and I looked forward to a happy and stirring life on board her. Having taken a good look round her in every part, shaken hands with little Smellie, and made the acquaintance of the new mid, a little shrimp of a fellow named Fisher, my uncle and I started for home again.

On the day but one following, Sir Peregrine and I trundled up to town to see about my outfit, as there were several things I should require on the West India station that had not been necessary in the Mediterranean. On our return we found the skipper comfortably domiciled in his former quarters. Things, he said, were going on so satisfactorily at Portsmouth that he had felt no hesitation about leaving everything to Mr Flinn and accepting an invitation—which my father had pressed upon him on the occasion of his first visit—to spend Christmas at the rectory, and to indulge in the unwonted luxury of a thorough rest.

My father was always busy with his parish-work, and Sir Peregrine’s gout precluded the possibility of his taking much outdoor exercise, so the duty of entertaining our guest devolved almost wholly upon the girls and myself. And I must say that our efforts in that direction appeared to be crowned with signal success. We had a spin after the hounds once or twice, and did a little shooting, but my superior officer appeared to enjoy the skating-parties most, when the frost would allow us to indulge in this pastime, and I could not help noticing how regularly we seemed to separate into two parties; the skipper invariably pairing off with Florrie, and leaving Amy to my care and pilotage.

At length a letter came from Mr Flinn to say that the ship was all ataunto, and would in another eight-and-forty hours be quite ready for sea. It arrived while we were at breakfast; and as he announced its contents and intimated that we must both be off forthwith, I saw my sister Florence go pale to the lips for a moment and then flush up as though the blood would burst through her delicate skin. The news threw a complete damper upon the previously merry party, and the meal was finished in almost perfect silence. At length my father returned thanks and rose to retire to his study. As he did so Captain Annesley also rose and said something to him in a low tone, which seemed to me to be a request for a few moments’ private conversation. My father bowed, and led the way to the library, with the skipper following close in his wake.

They were closeted together nearly an hour, and when the man-o’-war rejoined us, the first thing he did was to carry Florrie off to the conservatory. My mother was, as usual, at that hour, busy in her own snuggery with the cook, so that Amy and I found ourselves left alone in the drawing-room, Sir Peregrine having retired to the terrace for his morning smoke. I began by this time to see pretty clearly what was in the wind; so when Amy proposed that I should accompany her as far as old Mrs Jones’ cottage, I assented with effusion. We returned just in time to sit down to luncheon; and when we took our places at table, Florrie’s look of mingled joy and sadness, the sparkling diamond upon her engaged finger, and the elated look upon my skipper’s handsome face told me all that I had before only shrewdly suspected.

Immediately after luncheon, the carriage was brought round, our traps tumbled on board, and the skipper and I started for Portsmouth, after a most affecting leave-taking all round. Poor Florrie bore up bravely until the very last moment, when, as Annesley took her hand and bent over her to say good-bye, her fortitude completely deserted her, and, flinging herself into his arms, she sobbed as if her heart would break. I felt a lump rise in my own throat as I sat an unwilling witness to her distress; while as for Annesley—but avast! we are bound on a quest for honour and glory, so stow away the tear-bottles, coil down all tender feeling out of sight, and Westward Ho! for the land of Yellow Jack.

On the day but one following, we sailed from Spithead in half a gale of wind from E.N.E., with frequent snow-squalls; pretty much the same weather in fact as we had on the eventful occasion of my sailing in the “Scourge.” We looked into Plymouth Sound on out way, assumed the convoy of a fleet of some seventeen sail, and proceeded.

Oh! the misery of convoy-duty. To feel that you have a smart ship underfoot and a crew who will shrink from nothing their skipper may put them alongside, and to be doomed to drag along, day after day, under close-reefed topsails, in order to avoid running away from the sluggish, deep-laden merchantmen; with signalling and gun-firing going on day and night, restraining the swift and urging on the slow; with an occasional cruise round the entire fleet to keep them well together, and an everlasting anxious lookout to see that no fast-sailing privateer or pirate sneaks in and picks up one of your charges—it is almost as bad as blockading.

However, all things come to an end sooner or later; and we were looking forward to a speedy release from our annoyances—having arrived within a couple of days’ sail of the Mona Passage—when just after sun-rise the lookout aloft reported a small object apparently a boat, about five miles distant on our port bow. As the weather was beautifully fine, with our convoy bowling along under every rag of canvas they could spread, and no sign of any lurking picaroons in our neighbourhood, the skipper had our course altered, so as to give the strange object an overhaul. As we ran rapidly down upon it, we perceived that it was indeed a boat, but she showed neither mast nor oar, and we were unable to distinguish any one on board her. When within a mile of her, however, the lookout hailed to say he thought he saw some people lying down in her bottom. A few minutes more, and our doubts were removed by the sight of some person rising for a moment into a sitting position and then sinking down into the bottom of the boat again.

“A shipwrecked crew, apparently,” observed the skipper; “but why don’t they out oars and stand by to pull alongside?”

“Perhaps they are lying asleep, tired out with a long spell of pulling already?” suggested Mr Woods, the second lieutenant.

Five minutes afterwards we swept close past her.

“Boat ahoy!” hailed the skipper; and once more a figure appeared for a moment above the boat’s gunwale, waved its hand feebly, and sank down again. But—merciful Heaven! what a sight it was, which was thus momentarily presented to our view. The figure was that of a full-grown man clad in the ordinary garb of a Spanish seaman, but the clothes hung about it in rags, and the features were so shrunken that the skin appeared as though strained over a naked skull.

“Good God!” ejaculated Captain Annesley. “Why, they are in the last stage of starvation. Round-to and back the main-yard, if you please, Mr Flinn. Mr Chester, take the gig, and tow them alongside. Where’s the doctor?”

I jumped into the gig, with six hands; she was lowered down, the tackles unhooked, and away we went. A few strokes took us alongside the boat; and I then saw a sight which I shall never forget. The boat seemed full of bodies, all huddled together in the bottom in such a way that it was impossible to count them as they lay there, and the stench which arose was so sickening that we had to hold our nostrils while the painter was being cleared away and made fast.

We were soon alongside the frigate once more, and the doctor with his assistant at once jumped down into the Spanish boat and proceeded to examine its occupants. Three of them proved to be still alive; the remainder were dead and rotted almost out of the semblance of humanity. The survivors were hoisted as carefully as possible on board the frigate; and then, as the best means we could think of for disposing of the boat and her dreadful freight, half a dozen eighteen-pound shot were passed down into her, a plank knocked out of her bottom, and she was left to sink, which she did before the frigate had sailed many yards from the spot.

The survivors were tended all that day with the utmost care by our worthy medico, and toward evening he was enabled to announce the gratifying intelligence that he hoped to save them all. The next day they were very much better; and on the day following one of them—the man whom we had seen rise up in the boat—was strong enough to tell us his story. I will not repeat it in all its dreadful details of suffering; suffice it to say that their ship, homeward-bound from Saint Iago, had been attacked by a piratical schooner, the crew of which, after rifling and scuttling the ship, had turned the crew adrift in one of their own boats, without provisions or water, masts or sails; and there they had been, drifting helplessly about the ocean for the to them endless period of nineteen days, without seeing a single sail until we hove in sight.

On the fifth day after rescuing these poor creatures we arrived at Port Royal, where we anchored, while such of our convoy as were bound for Kingston went on up the harbour.

I had heard much respecting the beauty of the Island of Jamaica; and its appearance from the sea, as we had drawn in toward our anchorage, was such as to satisfy me that its attractions had not been overrated. I was anxious to have a run ashore; and was therefore very glad when the skipper, who had business at Kingston, invited me to go with him. I ought to have mentioned, by-the-bye, that he had long ago taken me into his confidence with regard to his engagement to Florrie—had done so, in fact, within a quarter of an hour of the time when he bade her good-bye, so that, though of course he was still the skipper in public, when we happened to be by ourselves he sank the superior officer, and merged into the friendly intimacy of the prospective brother-in-law.

We jumped into the gig and rowed ashore to the wharf at Port Royal, it being the skipper’s intention to take a wherry for the trip to Kingston. The moment that our wants were made known, the black boatmen crowded round us in a perfect mob, each extolling the merits of his own boat and depreciating those of the others. From words they soon came to blows, the combatants lowering their heads and butting at each other like goats, until one Hercules of a fellow, having won by force of arms—or rather, by the superior thickness and strength of his woolly skull—the right to convey us to our destination, we were led in triumph by him to his boat, and comfortably stowed away in the stern-sheets. The sea-breeze had by this time set in; and in a few minutes more we were tearing along the five-foot channel at a slashing pace. As we spun along toward our destination, I could not help remarking upon the perfect safety from attack by an enemy which Kingston enjoys. In the first place, the approach from the outside is of so difficult a character, in consequence of the narrowness and intricacy of the channels between the outlying shoals and reefs, that it would be almost impossible for a stranger to find his way in. If, however, he should by any chance get safely as far as Port Royal, its defences would assuredly stop his further progress; and then, as though these were not deemed sufficient, a little way up the harbour we come to the Apostle’s Battery; beyond which again is Fort Augusta. Altogether I think I never saw a more strongly-defended place, excepting, of course, Gibraltar.

In due time we reached the wherry-wharf at Kingston, and landed. A quarter of an hour’s walk under the piazzas which line the streets in the lower part of the town brought us to Mr Martin’s store, whither we were bound, and on inquiring for him, we were at once shown into his office. The skipper introduced himself and me, explained his business, which was soon done, and then we rose to leave.

As Mr Martin shook hands with us, he said,—

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but have you any engagements for to-day?”

The skipper replied that we had not, we were both strange to the place, and we proposed chartering a carriage for a drive into the country, in order that we might see a few of the far-famed beauties of the island.

“Then pray allow me to be your pilot,” said our new friend. “I have really nothing particular to attend to to-day, and I shall be very happy to show you round. If you can spare so much time, I am going this afternoon to visit a sugar-estate of mine a few miles out of town, stay the night, and return to-morrow morning after breakfast, and I shall be delighted to have the pleasure of your company.”

Nothing could have suited us better; we accordingly accepted his invitation, and forthwith set off to see what there was to be seen of the town. In the course of our peregrinations we met and were introduced to several of our host’s friends, each of whom shook hands with us as though he had known us all our lives, and forthwith gave us a pressing invitation to his “place.”

About four o’clock we returned to Mr Martin’s store, where we found his ketureen—a sort of gig—waiting, and also that of a Mr Finnie, another sugar-planter who was going to make one of the party. The skipper jumped in alongside of Mr Martin, I stowed myself away alongside his friend, and away we dashed up the sandy streets and out of town in the direction of the Blue Mountains.

We reached the estate, and the house upon it, just in time to escape a violent thunder-storm, accompanied by such rain as I had never seen before. It came down literally insheets, completely obscuring everything beyond a couple of dozen yards distant, and rattling upon the thatched roof as though it would beat it in. It lasted about an hour, ceasing as suddenly as it had commenced, and leaving the air clear, cool, and pure.

We had a most excellent dinner, washed down by a glass or two of good wine; some capital stories illustrative of life on the island were told; and about midnight we all turned in, I, for one, being almost knocked up by my tramp about Kingston, after the confinement of the ship.

The next morning we took a walk over the estate before breakfast, visiting the negroes’ quarters, the sugar-mill, and other buildings, and gaining thereby an appetite which proved most destructive to our host’s pickled mackerel, cold boiled tongue, eggs, etcetera. We made a clean sweep of the comestibles, washed all down with a cup or two of tea, and then started for Kingston, finally arriving on board the “Astarte” about noon.

We remained at Port Royal two days longer, during which we gave the craft a brush of paint inside and out, and otherwise titivated her up after her run out from England, when we received orders to sail upon a three-months’ cruise among the Windward Islands. We accordingly weighed, and stood out to sea with the first of the land breeze; and, having cleared the shoals, hauled up on the port tack, keeping close under the land to take all possible advantage of the land breeze in making our easting. By midnight we were off Morant Point, from which we took our departure; and in another hour were tearing along under topgallant-sails, upon a taut bowline, and looking well up for the Island of Grenada, under the influence of a strong trade-wind.

The skipper was most anxious to thoroughly test the sailing powers of the “Astarte,” this being the first time that an opportunity had occurred for so doing; and we accordingly carried on all next day, taxing the toughness of our spars to their utmost limit, and so satisfactory was the result that all hands, fore and aft, felt sanguine that we should meet with very few craft able to beat us either in the matter of speed or weatherliness. The “Astarte” also proved to be a very pretty sea-boat, though a trifle wet when being driven hard—but then, what craft is not?

As we drew to the southward the trade-wind hauled round a trifle farther from the eastward, its prevailing direction being about E.N.E. This broke us off a couple of points, and set us so much the more to leeward, but beyond that we had nothing to complain of, for the weather continued fine, and the breeze strong and steady.

On the evening of our third day out from Kingston we sighted land on the lee bow, which turned out to be the south end of the Island of Oruba, off the entrance to the Gulf of Maracaybo. We weathered the island cleverly before dark, though without very much room to spare, and passed in between it and Curaçao, making land again about six bells in the middle watch, on the mainland this time, about Hicacos Point. At eight bells in the same watch we tacked ship and stood off shore; and when the sun rose, the Island of Curaçao appeared upon our weather bow. Continuing upon the starboard tack all that day, we hove about again at the beginning of the first dog-watch, thinking that we might possibly be able to pick up a stray Spaniard or Dutchman.

On the following afternoon, about four p.m., land was once more made, directly ahead.

“Land!” murmured little Fisher—who from his diminutive stature had acquired from his fellow-mids the sobriquet of “Six-foot”—“Land! it’s nothing but ‘land ho!’ What landisit, for gracious sake?” to Mr Carter, the master’s-mate, who happened to be standing near him.

“The Rocca Islands,” answered Carter. “The master says it’s a likely spot in which to find a pirate’s nest—just a group of some five-and-twenty rocks, they are not much larger, and one island about ten miles long and six wide, with reefs and shoals all round. Did you ever smell gunpowder, Six-foot?”

“Not yet,” answered little Fisher, “but you know this is only my second voyage?”

“And your first was from London to Margate, eh? Well, perhaps you’ll have a chance of smelling it before long.” And Carter walked away forward.

The little fellow flushed up crimson, and then went pale to the lips.

“Why, Six-foot, what’s the matter with you; you are not frightened, are you? Carter was only joking.”

“Was he?” said the boy, “I didn’t know. You asked me if I felt frightened, Ralph, I don’t know whether it was fright or not, but I felt very queer. You know I have never been in action yet, and I think it must be sodreadfulto hear the shot crashing in through the ship’s sides, and to see strong men struck down maimed and bleeding, or perhaps killed outright, and I have a horrible feeling that when I see these things for the first time I shall turn sick and faint, and perhaps misbehave in some way. And I wouldn’t act like a coward for the world; my father is a very proud man, and I don’t think he would ever forgive me for bringing such disgrace on his name.”

I could understand the poor little fellow’s feelings perfectly, I thought, for had I not experienced something of the same kind myself? I cheered him up as well as I could; telling him that whenever the time came I felt sure he would behave perfectly well, and that with the firing of the first shot all trace of the peculiar and unpleasant sensations of which he spoke would pass completely away.

I was still talking with him when the skipper's steward came up to us with an invitation for both to dinner in the cabin. The subject was accordingly dropped, and we hurried away to dress.

We were just finishing our soup when Mr Vining, the third lieutenant, came down to say that two ships had just rounded the southernmost end of the large island, and were working their way in among the shoals towards a small shallow bay on the north, western side.

“What do they look like, Mr Vining?” queried the skipper.

“One is a full-rigged ship, apparently of about six hundred tons; the other is a low, wicked-looking brigantine, sir, very loftily rigged, and with an immense spread of canvas.”

“Um!” said the skipper. “Just keep a sharp eye upon them, if you please, Mr Vining, and see what you can make of them. I’ll be on deck shortly.”

The second lieutenant withdrew, and we hurried on with the meal. By the time that we had finished and were on deck once more, the sun had set, and the short twilight of the tropics was upon us. The islands—mere rocks, as Carter had said—forming the western extremity of the group were already on our lee beam; the nearest of them being about three miles distant, while others stretched away to leeward of them right away to the horizon, and even beyond it. Key Grande, the largest of the group, lay right ahead, distant about fifteen miles; while El Roque, another island, lay broad upon our weather bow, about five miles distant. The lookout aloft reported the two strange sail to be just anchoring.

“We’ve stayed below a trifle too long, I’m afraid,” said the skipper; “we shall have darkness upon us in ten minutes. Mr Chester, kindly slip up to the topsail-yard and see what you can make out about the strangers, if you please.”

“I’ll come with you, Ralph, my boy,” said Mr Flinn. “Four eyes are better than two; and, as I see that the skipper means to give them an overhaul, it is as well that we should learn all we can about them beforehand.”

We accordingly shinned up the ratlines together, and were soon comfortably settled on the fore-topsail-yard. We remained there until the brief twilight had so far faded that it was impossible to make out more than the general outline of the ships, and then we descended and made our report.

The said report amounted to this. The brigantine, we had quite made up our minds, was either a privateer or a pirate, but of what nationality, if the former, we were not quite clear, and the ship we took to be a Spaniard of about five hundred tons. The water was breaking so confusedly among and over the reefs ahead of us that we felt very doubtful whether the boats—much less the ship—could find a way through; but we were of opinion that there was a narrow belt of clear water close to the shore.

Mr Martin, the master, had meanwhile brought up the chart and spread it open upon the capstan-head; but the moment that we looked at it and compared it with what we saw around us, it became evident that it was by no means to be relied upon, so far at least as this particular spot was concerned.

“’Bout ship at once, if you please, Mr Flinn,” said the skipper. “We’ll go no nearer—onthisside at all events—I don’t half like being so close as we are now. We’ll furl the topgallant-sails and take down a reef in the topsails also.”

It was done. The reefs now lay astern of us, Key Grande bore well upon our starboard quarter, and El Roque was ahead of us, a trifle upon our weather bow.

“Keep her away a point, quarter-master, and give that island ahead a wide berth,” said the skipper.

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Gimbals; and I thought his voice sounded strange and melancholy in the deepening gloom.

We were now standing to the northward, or about N. by W., under single-reefed topsails, and were going about nine knots, the spot we were in being sheltered by the islands and shoals to windward, and the water consequently smooth. In about half an hour’s time, however, the frigate passed out from under the lee of El Roque, and we were once more tearing and thrashing through the short head-sea. The sky to leeward, still aglow with the fading splendour which marked the path of the departed sun, strongly tinged the water in its wake with tints of the purest amber and ruby, against which the wave-crests leaped up black as ink, while the ocean everywhere else showed a dark indigo hue. Overhead, in the darkening ether, the stars were twinkling out one by one; while away to windward the sky, already nearly as dark as it would be that night, was thickly powdered with a million glittering points.

We continued upon the starboard tack until two bells in the first watch, when, the skipper being of opinion that we had made sufficient offing to go to windward of everything, we tacked ship and stood to the southward and eastward again. It was by this time quite dark, although starlight; and we knew that if the strangers inside had kept a watch upon us, they would have seen us still standing off the land as long as it was possible to see anything at all; and, this being the case, we hoped they would jump to the conclusion that they had seen the last of us, for that night at least, and think no more about us.

By six bells we were dead to windward of the eastern end of El Roque, and about ten miles from it, when we edged away a couple of points, and, getting a good pull upon the weather-braces, went rolling and plunging down past the weather side of Key Grande, giving the land a wide berth however, and stationing extra lookouts—the keenest-eyed men in the ship—to watch for any signs of broken water.

Two hours after bearing up, we were off the south-east angle of the island, when we wore ship, and, shortening sail to close-reefed topsails, jib, and spanker, dodged quietly in toward the land, under the lee of which we soon found ourselves. A couple of leadsmen were sent into the chains, and the lead kept constantly going, but we found there was plenty of water, so we stood on until we got into eight fathoms, when, being completely sheltered, we let go the anchor, and stowed our canvas.

It was by this time about two o’clock a.m. The boats had been prepared long before, and nothing now remained but to lower away, unhook, and be off.

As soon as the sails were furled, Captain Annesley went below to his cabin, and immediately sent for Mr Flinn, Mr Vining, Mr Martin, and me. We trundled down one after the other, and found our chief bending anxiously over a chart which was lying spread open upon the cabin-table.

“Pray be seated, gentlemen,” said he; “draw your chairs up to the table, and you will all be able to follow me upon the chart. Here is where we are,”—making a pencil dot on the chart to indicate the position of the frigate—“and here, as nearly as possible, is where the ship and brigantine are lying,”—a cross serving to indicate their position. “Now I feel myself to be in a position of some little difficulty. I have very little doubt in my own mind that these two ships belong to our enemies, but I am notsureof it; and to attack a vessel belonging to a friendly power would be a most deplorable accident. On the other hand, if we wait until daylight before doing anything, we run the risk of losing a good many of our men; for I should not feel justified in taking the frigate into the midst of so many unknown dangers, and an attack with the boats in broad daylight would give them ample time to make all their preparations for giving us a hot reception. I am inclined to think that the crews of those two craft will have no expectation of hearing from us to-night; and I have therefore determined to send in the boats to reconnoitre. You, Mr Flinn, will have charge of the expedition, and will take the launch. Mr Vining will take the first cutter, and Mr Martin the second, while Mr Chester, in the gig, must go ahead and endeavour to steal alongside the strange craft without giving the alarm, find out their nationality—while you lie off at a distance—and return to you with his report. If they are friends, there is no harm done; and if they are enemies, do as you think best.”

A few words of advice followed, and we then returned to the deck. The boats were lowered, a twelve-pound carronade placed in the bows of the launch, the fighting-crews paraded, and their weapons examined to see that everything was in fighting order, and then we trundled down over the side and shoved off.

Back to IndexNext