Chapter Sixteen.

Chapter Sixteen.On board the Nymph—A hot engagement—Escape of the enemy—I am transferred to the Pelican—Action off the Isle of Bas—I fancy myself with a wooden leg—We put into Plymouth—Writing under difficulties—A sad disappointment—We sail—A chase—Trying time—Action between the Venus and Sémillante—In search of the enemy.Captain Edward Pellew, who commanded theNymph, was, I was told, one of the smartest officers in the British navy.“Where there is anything to do, he’ll do it; and if there is nothing to do, he’ll find something,” was the opinion expressed of him on board.He had during the last war been first lieutenant of theApollo, Captain Pownoll.“I belonged to her at the time,” said my messmate Dick Hagger. “We were in company with theCleopatra, Captain Murray, who, one morning, sent us in chase of a cutter seen in the north-west quarter. About half-past ten, when we had got nearly within gun-shot of the cutter, we saw a large ship standing out from the land. That she was an enemy, there was no doubt; so Captain Pownoll at once did his best to close her. The wind was about north-east, and the stranger, standing to the nor’ard on the starboard tack, was enabled to cross our bows. Soon afterwards she tacked to the eastward, and we also hove about until, she being on our weather quarter, we again tacked, as did also the stranger. We exchanged broadsides with her in passing, when we once more tacked and brought her to close action about noon. It was the hottest fight I had ever then been engaged in. We tossed our guns in and out, determined to win. It was sharp work; numbers of our men were falling, several killed and many wounded. Among the former was our brave captain, who was shot down about an hour after the action commenced, when our first lieutenant, Edward Pellew, who was now our captain, took command of the ship. You may be sure that he continued the fight bravely, cheering us on. What we might have thought about the matter had another man been in his place, I don’t know; but we knew him, and felt sure that he would keep it up as long as we had a stick standing or a shot in the locker.“We were now edging away off the wind towards Ostend. It was soon seen that it was the intention of the enemy to run ashore. We had by this time made her out to be theStanislaus, a French thirty-two gun frigate, though she was only carrying at the time, so we afterwards found out, twenty-six long twelve-pounders, so that she was no match for us.“Our young commander now did his best to prevent theStanislausfrom running ashore by crossing and recrossing her bows; but on heaving the lead, we found that we were in little more than twenty feet of water, and that if we stood on, we ourselves must be aground before long.“The master and other officers now came up to Mr Pellew, and strongly advised him to wear ship. You may be sure we were very sorry when we had to bring theApolloto the wind, with her head off shore; and a few minutes afterwards theStanislaustook the ground, when her foremast and main-topmast fell over the side. Still greater was our disappointment when we heard that Ostend was neutral ground, and that we should be violating what was called the neutrality of the port by renewing the engagement. I am not certain that our commander would not have run all risks, had not the enemy fired a gun to leeward to claim the protection of the Dutch. It is but right to say that the French fought well, for besides our captain, we hid five poor fellows killed and twenty wounded. Our rigging was cut to pieces, and we had three feet of water in the hold. The French loss was much more severe.“Mr Pellew got his promotion to the rank of commander for this action. I next served with him on board thePelican, a fourteen gun brig to which he was soon afterwards appointed. We were off the Isle of Bas, towards the end of April 1782, I mind, when we made out several vessels at anchor in the roads.“Our commander at once resolved to attack them, and for this purpose stood inshore, when we saw two privateers—a brig and a schooner, each of equal force to thePelican—spring their broadsides towards the entrance of the roads, to prevent us entering. Our commander was not the man to be stopped by threats of that sort. Standing on, we opened a brisk fire on the two privateers, and soon drove them, as well as a third which appeared inside, on shore, close under the shelter of some heavy batteries, whose guns at once began blazing away at us. We were struck several times, and two of our men were wounded, but no one was killed. It was about as pretty and well-executed an affair as I ever saw, and we were all right glad to hear that our commander had obtained his post rank for it. So you see, Will, we’ve got a man to be proud of.”I agreed with Hagger, but yet my heart was too sore to feel any satisfaction at knowing this, and I would a thousand times rather have been on shore with my dear wife; and who, under my circumstances, would not? Still I might hope by some means or other to be able to rejoin her. The frigate, I found, had been fitted out at Portsmouth, and to Portsmouth she would in all probability return. I would thankfully have received a wound sufficiently severe to have sent me to hospital. Then, if I once got home, discharged from the ship, I determined to take very good care not again to be pressed. It would be hard indeed if Charles Iffley should discover me. In the meantime, I resolved, as I had done before, to perform my duty.I prayed, for my wife’s sake, should we go into action, that my life might be preserved. For myself, just then, I cared very little what might become of me.I remember, however, laughing as I thought, if my right leg were to be shot away, how Uncle Kelson and I should go stumping about Southsea Common together,—he had lost his left leg,—now our heads almost knocking against each other, now going off at tangents. I pictured to myself the curious figure we should cut.Hagger thought, as he looked at me, that I had gone daft.“What is the matter, Will?” he asked. I told him.“Don’t let such fancies get hold of your mind, man,” he answered. “You’ll keep your two legs and get safely on shore one of these days, when we have well trounced the mounseers. Ever bear in mind that ‘there’s a sweet little cherub who sits up aloft, to take care of the life of poor Jack.’“He’ll take care of both your legs for your wife’s sake, as I doubt not it would be better for you to keep them on.”After cruising up and down the Channel for some time, we put into Plymouth, where we found theVenusfrigate. Commander Israel Pellew, our captain’s brother, came on board to keep his brother company, he having no command at the time.No leave was granted, and very little communication held with the shore. I was unable to obtain a sheet of paper and a pen, the officers only having writing materials. I would willingly have given a guinea for a sheet of paper, a pen, and some ink; but it was not until we had been at anchor some time that I got a sheet from the purser’s steward, with a wretched pen and a small bottle of ink, for which I paid him five shillings. I was thankful to get it at that price, and immediately hurried down to write a letter to my wife. Bitterly to my disappointment, before I had finished it, I heard the boatswain’s shrill call summoning all hands on deck to heave up the anchor and make sail. Placing the half-finished letter in my bag, which I had brought from theJane, I followed my shipmates.We sailed in company with theVenus, Captain Faulknor, and stood down Channel in search of French cruisers. My earnest prayer was, that we might put into Spithead, whence I should have an opportunity of sending my letter on shore, even though I should be unable to get leave to go myself. As a pressed man, I knew that I should have a difficulty in obtaining that.TheVenushad been hurriedly fitted out. She had no marines on board, while she was twenty seamen short of her complement. She was rated as a thirty-two gun frigate, mounting twenty-four long twelve-pounders on the main-deck, with six eighteen-pounder carronades and eight long six-pounders on her quarter-deck and forecastle, which gave her a total of thirty-eight guns. Thus, except her carronades, her guns were of light calibre. We were somewhere about a hundred leagues north-west of Cape Finisterre when a sail was seen to the south-east. Captain Pellew, as senior officer, ordered Captain Faulknor (theVenusbeing much the nearer) to chase. We at the same time made out another sail to the eastward. Hoping that she might be an enemy, we immediately steered for her. She proved, however, to be an English frigate bound out with despatches to the West Indies. As her captain could not go out of his way to look after the Frenchman, we bore up alone to follow theVenus, hoping to get up in time to take part in the engagement, should she be fortunate enough to bring the stranger to action. We could calculate pretty accurately whereabouts to find our consort, when about noon the next day it came on calm for some hours, and though we set all sail, the ship made but little progress through the water.Late in the evening, the sound of rapid firing reached our ears, and we knew that theVenusmust be engaged, but whether or not with a ship of superior force, it was impossible to decide. It greatly tried our patience to hear the sound of the battle and yet not be able to take part in it. Even I was aroused, and for a time forgot my own troubles. The midshipmen went aloft to the mastheads, but still they were unable to catch sight of the combatants. The fast-coming gloom concealed the clouds of smoke which might have risen above the horizon and shown their position.The officers walked the deck with hurried strides, their glasses in their hands, every now and then turning them in the direction from which the sound came, though they knew they were not likely to see anything.The men stood about whistling for a wind until it seemed as if their cheeks would crack.At last the breeze came; the order was given to trim sails. Never did men fly to their stations with more alacrity.The days were long, and as night came down at last on the world of waters, we could hear the firing more distinctly than ever, but still we could not see the flashes of the guns.Next morning a sail was sighted to the south-east. She was standing towards us, but alone.“She may be theVenus, or she may be an enemy which has captured her, and is now coming on to fight us,” I observed to Dick Hagger.He laughed heartily. “No, no, Will,” he answered. “Depend upon it, theVenus, if she is taken, which I don’t believe, would have too much knocked about an enemy to leave her any stomach for fighting another English ship.”“But suppose she is not the ship with which theVenusengaged, but a fresh frigate standing out to fight us.”“I only hope she may be; we’ll soon show her that slip has caught a Tartar. Depend on’t, we’ll not part company till we’ve taken her.”The matter was soon set at rest, when, the stranger nearing us, we observed her crippled state, and recognised her as our consort.“She’s had a pretty tough fight of it,” said Hagger as we gazed at her. Her fore-topgallant main and cross-jack yard were shot away, her yards, rigging, and sails sadly cut up, but what injuries her hull had received we could not make out.On closing with each other, both ships hove-to, and our third lieutenant, Mr Pellowe, whose name curiously enough was very like that of our captain (we used to call the one the Owe, the other the Ew), went on board, accompanied by Commander Israel Pellew. I was one of the boat’s crew. We found, on getting up to her, that no small number of shot had struck her hull, some going through her sides, others her bulwarks, besides which she had received other damages.Her people told us that they had had an action, which had lasted the best part of three hours, with a French frigate of forty guns, theSémillante; and that, though they had suffered sharply, the Frenchman had been much more knocked about.After engaging her for two hours, they had got up to within half a cable’s length of her, when, trimming their sails as well as they were able, they ranged up alongside with double-shotted guns and gave her a broadside.Having shot ahead, they were going about to repeat their fire, when they discovered to leeward a large ship under French colours. TheSémillante, recognising the stranger, bore up to join her, when their captain, seeing that he should have no chance of victory, considering the way their ship had suffered, and that they might be taken, hauled close to the wind, and, making all the sail they could carry, stood away from their new enemy.If it had not been for that, they declared they would have taken theSémillante, and of this there seemed little doubt. They had had two seamen killed, and the master and nineteen seamen wounded.We afterwards learned that the enemy had had twelve killed and twenty wounded.Considering the disparity of force, the action was a gallant one, and we more than ever regretted that we had been prevented taking part in it; for we should, we felt sure, have captured one or both of the French ships.As soon as the shot-holes in theVenushad been stopped and her rigging repaired, we made sail together in search of the enemy, we hoping to have an opportunity of tackling the fresh ship, while our consort attacked her old opponent.

Captain Edward Pellew, who commanded theNymph, was, I was told, one of the smartest officers in the British navy.

“Where there is anything to do, he’ll do it; and if there is nothing to do, he’ll find something,” was the opinion expressed of him on board.

He had during the last war been first lieutenant of theApollo, Captain Pownoll.

“I belonged to her at the time,” said my messmate Dick Hagger. “We were in company with theCleopatra, Captain Murray, who, one morning, sent us in chase of a cutter seen in the north-west quarter. About half-past ten, when we had got nearly within gun-shot of the cutter, we saw a large ship standing out from the land. That she was an enemy, there was no doubt; so Captain Pownoll at once did his best to close her. The wind was about north-east, and the stranger, standing to the nor’ard on the starboard tack, was enabled to cross our bows. Soon afterwards she tacked to the eastward, and we also hove about until, she being on our weather quarter, we again tacked, as did also the stranger. We exchanged broadsides with her in passing, when we once more tacked and brought her to close action about noon. It was the hottest fight I had ever then been engaged in. We tossed our guns in and out, determined to win. It was sharp work; numbers of our men were falling, several killed and many wounded. Among the former was our brave captain, who was shot down about an hour after the action commenced, when our first lieutenant, Edward Pellew, who was now our captain, took command of the ship. You may be sure that he continued the fight bravely, cheering us on. What we might have thought about the matter had another man been in his place, I don’t know; but we knew him, and felt sure that he would keep it up as long as we had a stick standing or a shot in the locker.

“We were now edging away off the wind towards Ostend. It was soon seen that it was the intention of the enemy to run ashore. We had by this time made her out to be theStanislaus, a French thirty-two gun frigate, though she was only carrying at the time, so we afterwards found out, twenty-six long twelve-pounders, so that she was no match for us.

“Our young commander now did his best to prevent theStanislausfrom running ashore by crossing and recrossing her bows; but on heaving the lead, we found that we were in little more than twenty feet of water, and that if we stood on, we ourselves must be aground before long.

“The master and other officers now came up to Mr Pellew, and strongly advised him to wear ship. You may be sure we were very sorry when we had to bring theApolloto the wind, with her head off shore; and a few minutes afterwards theStanislaustook the ground, when her foremast and main-topmast fell over the side. Still greater was our disappointment when we heard that Ostend was neutral ground, and that we should be violating what was called the neutrality of the port by renewing the engagement. I am not certain that our commander would not have run all risks, had not the enemy fired a gun to leeward to claim the protection of the Dutch. It is but right to say that the French fought well, for besides our captain, we hid five poor fellows killed and twenty wounded. Our rigging was cut to pieces, and we had three feet of water in the hold. The French loss was much more severe.

“Mr Pellew got his promotion to the rank of commander for this action. I next served with him on board thePelican, a fourteen gun brig to which he was soon afterwards appointed. We were off the Isle of Bas, towards the end of April 1782, I mind, when we made out several vessels at anchor in the roads.

“Our commander at once resolved to attack them, and for this purpose stood inshore, when we saw two privateers—a brig and a schooner, each of equal force to thePelican—spring their broadsides towards the entrance of the roads, to prevent us entering. Our commander was not the man to be stopped by threats of that sort. Standing on, we opened a brisk fire on the two privateers, and soon drove them, as well as a third which appeared inside, on shore, close under the shelter of some heavy batteries, whose guns at once began blazing away at us. We were struck several times, and two of our men were wounded, but no one was killed. It was about as pretty and well-executed an affair as I ever saw, and we were all right glad to hear that our commander had obtained his post rank for it. So you see, Will, we’ve got a man to be proud of.”

I agreed with Hagger, but yet my heart was too sore to feel any satisfaction at knowing this, and I would a thousand times rather have been on shore with my dear wife; and who, under my circumstances, would not? Still I might hope by some means or other to be able to rejoin her. The frigate, I found, had been fitted out at Portsmouth, and to Portsmouth she would in all probability return. I would thankfully have received a wound sufficiently severe to have sent me to hospital. Then, if I once got home, discharged from the ship, I determined to take very good care not again to be pressed. It would be hard indeed if Charles Iffley should discover me. In the meantime, I resolved, as I had done before, to perform my duty.

I prayed, for my wife’s sake, should we go into action, that my life might be preserved. For myself, just then, I cared very little what might become of me.

I remember, however, laughing as I thought, if my right leg were to be shot away, how Uncle Kelson and I should go stumping about Southsea Common together,—he had lost his left leg,—now our heads almost knocking against each other, now going off at tangents. I pictured to myself the curious figure we should cut.

Hagger thought, as he looked at me, that I had gone daft.

“What is the matter, Will?” he asked. I told him.

“Don’t let such fancies get hold of your mind, man,” he answered. “You’ll keep your two legs and get safely on shore one of these days, when we have well trounced the mounseers. Ever bear in mind that ‘there’s a sweet little cherub who sits up aloft, to take care of the life of poor Jack.’

“He’ll take care of both your legs for your wife’s sake, as I doubt not it would be better for you to keep them on.”

After cruising up and down the Channel for some time, we put into Plymouth, where we found theVenusfrigate. Commander Israel Pellew, our captain’s brother, came on board to keep his brother company, he having no command at the time.

No leave was granted, and very little communication held with the shore. I was unable to obtain a sheet of paper and a pen, the officers only having writing materials. I would willingly have given a guinea for a sheet of paper, a pen, and some ink; but it was not until we had been at anchor some time that I got a sheet from the purser’s steward, with a wretched pen and a small bottle of ink, for which I paid him five shillings. I was thankful to get it at that price, and immediately hurried down to write a letter to my wife. Bitterly to my disappointment, before I had finished it, I heard the boatswain’s shrill call summoning all hands on deck to heave up the anchor and make sail. Placing the half-finished letter in my bag, which I had brought from theJane, I followed my shipmates.

We sailed in company with theVenus, Captain Faulknor, and stood down Channel in search of French cruisers. My earnest prayer was, that we might put into Spithead, whence I should have an opportunity of sending my letter on shore, even though I should be unable to get leave to go myself. As a pressed man, I knew that I should have a difficulty in obtaining that.

TheVenushad been hurriedly fitted out. She had no marines on board, while she was twenty seamen short of her complement. She was rated as a thirty-two gun frigate, mounting twenty-four long twelve-pounders on the main-deck, with six eighteen-pounder carronades and eight long six-pounders on her quarter-deck and forecastle, which gave her a total of thirty-eight guns. Thus, except her carronades, her guns were of light calibre. We were somewhere about a hundred leagues north-west of Cape Finisterre when a sail was seen to the south-east. Captain Pellew, as senior officer, ordered Captain Faulknor (theVenusbeing much the nearer) to chase. We at the same time made out another sail to the eastward. Hoping that she might be an enemy, we immediately steered for her. She proved, however, to be an English frigate bound out with despatches to the West Indies. As her captain could not go out of his way to look after the Frenchman, we bore up alone to follow theVenus, hoping to get up in time to take part in the engagement, should she be fortunate enough to bring the stranger to action. We could calculate pretty accurately whereabouts to find our consort, when about noon the next day it came on calm for some hours, and though we set all sail, the ship made but little progress through the water.

Late in the evening, the sound of rapid firing reached our ears, and we knew that theVenusmust be engaged, but whether or not with a ship of superior force, it was impossible to decide. It greatly tried our patience to hear the sound of the battle and yet not be able to take part in it. Even I was aroused, and for a time forgot my own troubles. The midshipmen went aloft to the mastheads, but still they were unable to catch sight of the combatants. The fast-coming gloom concealed the clouds of smoke which might have risen above the horizon and shown their position.

The officers walked the deck with hurried strides, their glasses in their hands, every now and then turning them in the direction from which the sound came, though they knew they were not likely to see anything.

The men stood about whistling for a wind until it seemed as if their cheeks would crack.

At last the breeze came; the order was given to trim sails. Never did men fly to their stations with more alacrity.

The days were long, and as night came down at last on the world of waters, we could hear the firing more distinctly than ever, but still we could not see the flashes of the guns.

Next morning a sail was sighted to the south-east. She was standing towards us, but alone.

“She may be theVenus, or she may be an enemy which has captured her, and is now coming on to fight us,” I observed to Dick Hagger.

He laughed heartily. “No, no, Will,” he answered. “Depend upon it, theVenus, if she is taken, which I don’t believe, would have too much knocked about an enemy to leave her any stomach for fighting another English ship.”

“But suppose she is not the ship with which theVenusengaged, but a fresh frigate standing out to fight us.”

“I only hope she may be; we’ll soon show her that slip has caught a Tartar. Depend on’t, we’ll not part company till we’ve taken her.”

The matter was soon set at rest, when, the stranger nearing us, we observed her crippled state, and recognised her as our consort.

“She’s had a pretty tough fight of it,” said Hagger as we gazed at her. Her fore-topgallant main and cross-jack yard were shot away, her yards, rigging, and sails sadly cut up, but what injuries her hull had received we could not make out.

On closing with each other, both ships hove-to, and our third lieutenant, Mr Pellowe, whose name curiously enough was very like that of our captain (we used to call the one the Owe, the other the Ew), went on board, accompanied by Commander Israel Pellew. I was one of the boat’s crew. We found, on getting up to her, that no small number of shot had struck her hull, some going through her sides, others her bulwarks, besides which she had received other damages.

Her people told us that they had had an action, which had lasted the best part of three hours, with a French frigate of forty guns, theSémillante; and that, though they had suffered sharply, the Frenchman had been much more knocked about.

After engaging her for two hours, they had got up to within half a cable’s length of her, when, trimming their sails as well as they were able, they ranged up alongside with double-shotted guns and gave her a broadside.

Having shot ahead, they were going about to repeat their fire, when they discovered to leeward a large ship under French colours. TheSémillante, recognising the stranger, bore up to join her, when their captain, seeing that he should have no chance of victory, considering the way their ship had suffered, and that they might be taken, hauled close to the wind, and, making all the sail they could carry, stood away from their new enemy.

If it had not been for that, they declared they would have taken theSémillante, and of this there seemed little doubt. They had had two seamen killed, and the master and nineteen seamen wounded.

We afterwards learned that the enemy had had twelve killed and twenty wounded.

Considering the disparity of force, the action was a gallant one, and we more than ever regretted that we had been prevented taking part in it; for we should, we felt sure, have captured one or both of the French ships.

As soon as the shot-holes in theVenushad been stopped and her rigging repaired, we made sail together in search of the enemy, we hoping to have an opportunity of tackling the fresh ship, while our consort attacked her old opponent.

Chapter Seventeen.In sight of the foe—The enemy get clear—Return to England—I lose my letter too late—We again sail—Action with the Cleopatra—Tough work with British tars—A last effort—Death of the French captain—On board the prize—Steer a course for the Isle of Wight—Our reception—My hopes and fears—Leave or no leave?—We run into Portsmouth harbour.We continued our course under all sail to the eastward, and next evening caught sight of two sail, which we took to be French, standing up Channel.We made chase, but lost sight of them in the night. Next morning, however, there they were, hull down, right ahead. We continued the pursuit along the French coast, but had the disappointment of seeing them at last take refuge in Cherbourg harbour. Knowing that they were not likely to come out again, we stood across channel, theVenusrunning into Plymouth to land her wounded men and repair damages, while we stood on for Falmouth.Again I was disappointed in not being able to despatch my letter, for after we knew where theVenuswas bound for, no communication was held with her.I had got the letter written and addressed, but had not closed it, as I wished to add a few more words at latest. For safety’s sake, I kept it in my bag, as it might have got wetted and soiled in my pocket. Until we were off Falmouth, I did not know that we were to stand in. I was then too much engaged in shortening sail to get out my letter. When I was at last able to go below, I hurried to my bag, intending to add a postscript, but what was my dismay to be unable to find it.I felt again and again, and then turned out all my things, but could nowhere discover the missing epistle. I hastened to try and obtain another sheet of paper from the purser’s steward, but he was just then too much engaged to attend to me, and directly after I got it my watch was called and I had to return on deck.The moment my watch was over, I went below and, as well as I could, began writing. It was no easy matter in the dim light and hubbub going on around me. I finished it, however, telling my dear wife all that had occurred, how miserable I was at being separated from her, and my hopes, while I remained in the Channel cruiser, of being allowed to get on shore some day, even though we might be together but for a few short hours. The letter was closed and wafered; I rushed on deck with it, but only to find that the last boat from the shore had shoved off, and the next instant the hands were turned up to make sail.I felt more inclined than I had ever done since my childhood to burst into tears. I think I should have done so from very vexation and disappointment, had I not been obliged to hurry to my station, putting my letter in my pocket as I did so.It was trying, every one will allow, for all this time my dear wife could not tell what had become of me. My other friends might think me dead, but I knew that she would never believe that to be the case until she had strong evidence of the fact. Even if she had, I felt sure nothing would ever induce her to marry again.The wind was fair up Channel. Arriving nearly abreast of the Start Point, we ran out to the southward, the captain hoping to fall in with one of the two French frigates which a short time before we and theVenushad chased into Cherbourg. One of the two was, as I before said, theSémillante, the other was theCleopatra.On the morning of the 18th of June, just as day broke, the Start bearing east by north, distant five or six leagues, we discovered a sail in the south-east quarter, and immediately afterwards bore up in chase, carrying all the canvas we could set. As we approached the stranger, we felt nearly sure that she was the very French frigate we were in search of. She was under all sail, some of us thought, for the purpose of getting away.“We shall have another long chase, and if that there craft has a fast pair of heels, she’ll get into Cherbourg and make us look foolish,” said Dick Hagger as we watched her.We stood on, and soon had the satisfaction of discovering that we were sailing faster than the stranger. The captain and several of the other officers were examining her through their glasses.In a short time they formed the opinion that she was no other than theCleopatrawhich had before got away from us, and such we afterwards found to be the case.A shout rose from our deck when we observed her haul up her foresail and lower her topgallant sails, showing that she had made up her mind to fight us.In about two hours and a half, we got so near that we heard some one from her quarter-deck hail us.Captain Pellew, on this, not making out distinctly what was said, shouted, “Ahoy! ahoy!” when our crew gave three cheers, and right hearty ones they were, and shouted, “Long live King George.”As yet, not a shot had been fired, and it might have been supposed that we were two friendly ships meeting. On hearing our cheer, the French captain—his name we afterwards heard was Mullon—came on to the gangway, and waving his hat, exclaimed, “Vive la Nation!” on which his crew tried to give three cheers, as we had done; but it was a very poor imitation, I can vouch for it.They had no one to lead them off, and they uttered shrieks rather than cheers, which, when we gave them, came out with a hearty ringing sound.We saw the French captain talking to his crew, and waving a cap of liberty which he held in his hand. He then gave it to one of the men, who ran up the rigging and screwed it to the masthead.“We’ll soon bring that precious cap of yours down, my boys,” cried Dick.We were all this time at our guns, stripped to the waist, ready and eager to begin the game; and if the Frenchmen behaved as they seemed inclined to do, it would be, we felt sure, pretty sharp work.The French captain now coming to the gangway, waved his hat. Our captain did the same, and passed the word along the deck that we were not to fire until we saw him raise his hat to his head.Eagerly watching for the signal, we stood on, gradually nearing the French frigate, both of us running before the wind, until our foremost larboard guns could be brought to bear on the starboard quarter of theCleopatra.The captain raised his hat. Almost before it was on his head, the foremost gun was fired, the others being rapidly discharged in succession.We were not to have the game all on our own side, for the French ship at once returned the compliment, and her shot came crashing on board of us.We now, being within rather less than hailing distance of each other, kept blazing away as fast as we could run our guns in and out. We were doing considerable damage to the Frenchman, we could sea, but we were suffering not a little ourselves. Two of our midshipmen had fallen, killed while steadily going about their duty. Soon afterwards I saw another poor young fellow knocked over. Then the boatswain, in the act of raising his whistle to his mouth, had his head shot away; and some of the men declared that they heard it sounding notwithstanding, as it flew overboard. I saw three or four of our jollies—as we called the marines—drop while firing away from the forecastle. A round shot also striking our mainmast, I every instant expected to see it fall.Though badly wounded, it was not cut through, however, and the carpenter and his crew set to work immediately to fish it.We had been engaged some twenty minutes or so, when we saw theCleopatrahaul up some eight points from the wind.We followed her closely, having no intention of allowing her to escape, if such was the expectation of her commander.After blazing away some little time longer, down came her mizenmast; directly afterwards her wheel was shot away. She was thus rendered unmanageable, though for some time her crew endeavoured to keep her on her course by trimming sails; but our shot soon cutting away her braces, she played round off, and came stem on towards us, her jibboom passing between our fore and main masts, pressing so hard against the already wounded mainmast that I expected every instant to see it fall, especially as we had lost the main and spring stays. It was a question which would first go, our mainmast or the Frenchman’s jibboom.Fortunately for us, the latter was carried away, and our mainmast stood. The moment our captain saw the stem of theCleopatrastrike us, supposing that the French were about to board, he shouted out, “Boarders, repel boarders!” But the Frenchmen hadn’t the heart to do it, and instead of their boarding us, we boarded them.One party, led by our first lieutenant, rushed on the enemy’s forecastle; while another division, headed by the master, got through his main-deck ports.Although theCleopatra’sjibboom had given way, her larboard main-topmast studding-sail boom-iron had hooked on to the leech rope of our main-topsail, and was producing so powerful a strain on the mast that it seemed as if it could not possibly stand a minute longer. Seeing this, a brave fellow named Burgess, a maintop man, sprang aloft, and, in spite of the bullets aimed at him by some of the French marines stationed aft, cut the leech rope from the end of the main-yard.Our third lieutenant had in the meantime cut away our best bower anchor, which had hooked on to the enemy’s ship.I was one of those who had got through the main-deck ports. Following our gallant master, we fought our way aft, the Frenchmen for some time defending themselves bravely; but they could not resist the impetuosity of our charge, our cutlasses slashing and hewing, and our pistols going off within a few inches of their heads. At last many of them began to cry for quarter.Although they numbered eighty more men than we did, most of them, throwing down their weapons, leapt below, tumbling head over heels upon each other. The rest fled aft, and seeing we had won the day, made no further resistance. Remarking that the Frenchman’s flag was still flying, I sprang aft to the halyards, and down I hauled it, cheering lustily as I did so, the cheer being taken up by the remaining crew of theNymph.TheCleopatrawas ours. Never did I witness a more fearful sight. The decks fore and aft were slippery with gore, and covered with the dead and dying. During the short time we had been engaged, upwards of sixty had been struck down who, not an hour before, full of health and spirits, had attempted to reply to our cheer. Among them, on one side of the quarter-deck, lay the gallant Captain Mullon, surrounded by a mass of gore, for a round shot had torn open his back and carried away the greater part of his left hip. In one hand he was holding a paper, at which, strange as it may seem, he was biting away and endeavouring to swallow. I, with two other men, went up to him to ascertain what he was about. In the very act his hand fell, his jaw dropped, and there was the paper sticking in his mouth. He was dead. It evidently, however, was not the paper he intended to destroy, but, as it turned out, was his commission; for in his right pocket was found the list of coast signals used by the French, which, with his last gasp, he was thus endeavouring to prevent falling into the hands of the British.Without loss of time one hundred and fifty prisoners were removed on board theNymph, and just as the last had stepped on board the ships separated.The third lieutenant, who had been sent on board with a prize crew, at once set to work to repair the damages which theCleopatrahad received, while all hands in theNymphwere actively employed in the game way. When we came to look at our watches, we found that we had dished up the enemy in just fifty minutes from the time the first shot had been fired at her until her flag was hauled down.“Pretty quick work,” said Dick Hagger to me as we were working together repairing the rigging. “I told you the captain would be sharp about it; he always is at all he undertakes.”On making up the butcher’s bill, however, as the purser called it, we found that although the Frenchmen out of three hundred and twenty men and boys had lost sixty-three, we, out of our two hundred and forty, had had no less than twenty-three killed and twenty severely wounded, making fifty in all. Of these, the gentlemen belonging to the midshipmen’s berth had suffered most severely, for four of them had been killed and two wounded. Of the senior officers, none had been killed; but the second lieutenant had been wounded, as was the lieutenant of marines, with six of his men.As soon as sail could be got on the two frigates, we, to my great joy, steered a course for the Isle of Wight. I now felt more thankful than ever that I had escaped, as there seemed every probability that I should be able to see my dear wife, or at all events communicate with her. As soon as I went below, though I could with difficulty keep my eyes from closing, I opened my letter and added a few lines describing the action, and then placed it in my pocket, ready to send off on the first opportunity.In spite of the poor fellows suffering below, and the number of shipmates we had lost, we felt very happy as with a fair breeze we sailed in through the Needles, our well-won prize following in our wake.Never did those high-pointed rocks look more white and glittering or the downs more green and beautiful, while the blue sea sparkling in the sunlight seemed to share our joy. The people on the shore, as we passed the little town of Yarmouth, waved to us, and threw up their hats, and the flags from many a flagstaff flew out to the breeze.As soon as we brought up at Spithead, I eagerly looked out for a boat going to the shore, by which to send my letter, hoping to have it delivered at once, instead of letting it go through the post office; but, as it was late in the evening, no shore boats came off, and I had to wait all the night, thinking how little my dear wife supposed I was so near her.I turned out at daybreak, before the hammocks were piped up, that I might take a look at the spot where I thought she was living. Suddenly a sickness came over me. What if she should have been taken ill when I was so rudely torn from her! Perhaps she had never recovered, and was even now numbered among the dead. I could scarcely refrain from jumping overboard and trying to swim to Southsea beach. It seemed so near, and yet I knew that I could not do it. Then I thought I would go boldly up to the first lieutenant and tell him how treacherously I had been carried off,—snatched, as it were, from the arms of my young wife,—and ask him to give me leave for a few hours, promising faithfully to come back at the time he might name. Then I reflected that the ship was short-handed, that we had the prisoners to guard, and that until she had been brought up safe in Portsmouth harbour, every man would be required for duty.“It would be useless to ask him,” I groaned out. “He’ll remember I’m a pressed man, and would not trust me. It is too common for men to break their word and desert, indifferent to what others may suffer in consequence. No,” I thought, “I’ll try to send my letter first, and then wait with all the patience I can muster until I can get an answer.”Before long the hands were turned up, and we all set about our usual duties, washing down decks and giving them a double allowance of holystoning, to try and get out more of the blood stains before, visitors should come on board.Scarcely was this work over than the order was given to get up the anchor and make sail, as, tide and wind being favourable, we were to run into harbour.My heart bounded at the thought, I sprang with eagerness to my station, the ship gathered way and, followed by our prize, we stood towards the well-known entrance of Portsmouth harbour.

We continued our course under all sail to the eastward, and next evening caught sight of two sail, which we took to be French, standing up Channel.

We made chase, but lost sight of them in the night. Next morning, however, there they were, hull down, right ahead. We continued the pursuit along the French coast, but had the disappointment of seeing them at last take refuge in Cherbourg harbour. Knowing that they were not likely to come out again, we stood across channel, theVenusrunning into Plymouth to land her wounded men and repair damages, while we stood on for Falmouth.

Again I was disappointed in not being able to despatch my letter, for after we knew where theVenuswas bound for, no communication was held with her.

I had got the letter written and addressed, but had not closed it, as I wished to add a few more words at latest. For safety’s sake, I kept it in my bag, as it might have got wetted and soiled in my pocket. Until we were off Falmouth, I did not know that we were to stand in. I was then too much engaged in shortening sail to get out my letter. When I was at last able to go below, I hurried to my bag, intending to add a postscript, but what was my dismay to be unable to find it.

I felt again and again, and then turned out all my things, but could nowhere discover the missing epistle. I hastened to try and obtain another sheet of paper from the purser’s steward, but he was just then too much engaged to attend to me, and directly after I got it my watch was called and I had to return on deck.

The moment my watch was over, I went below and, as well as I could, began writing. It was no easy matter in the dim light and hubbub going on around me. I finished it, however, telling my dear wife all that had occurred, how miserable I was at being separated from her, and my hopes, while I remained in the Channel cruiser, of being allowed to get on shore some day, even though we might be together but for a few short hours. The letter was closed and wafered; I rushed on deck with it, but only to find that the last boat from the shore had shoved off, and the next instant the hands were turned up to make sail.

I felt more inclined than I had ever done since my childhood to burst into tears. I think I should have done so from very vexation and disappointment, had I not been obliged to hurry to my station, putting my letter in my pocket as I did so.

It was trying, every one will allow, for all this time my dear wife could not tell what had become of me. My other friends might think me dead, but I knew that she would never believe that to be the case until she had strong evidence of the fact. Even if she had, I felt sure nothing would ever induce her to marry again.

The wind was fair up Channel. Arriving nearly abreast of the Start Point, we ran out to the southward, the captain hoping to fall in with one of the two French frigates which a short time before we and theVenushad chased into Cherbourg. One of the two was, as I before said, theSémillante, the other was theCleopatra.

On the morning of the 18th of June, just as day broke, the Start bearing east by north, distant five or six leagues, we discovered a sail in the south-east quarter, and immediately afterwards bore up in chase, carrying all the canvas we could set. As we approached the stranger, we felt nearly sure that she was the very French frigate we were in search of. She was under all sail, some of us thought, for the purpose of getting away.

“We shall have another long chase, and if that there craft has a fast pair of heels, she’ll get into Cherbourg and make us look foolish,” said Dick Hagger as we watched her.

We stood on, and soon had the satisfaction of discovering that we were sailing faster than the stranger. The captain and several of the other officers were examining her through their glasses.

In a short time they formed the opinion that she was no other than theCleopatrawhich had before got away from us, and such we afterwards found to be the case.

A shout rose from our deck when we observed her haul up her foresail and lower her topgallant sails, showing that she had made up her mind to fight us.

In about two hours and a half, we got so near that we heard some one from her quarter-deck hail us.

Captain Pellew, on this, not making out distinctly what was said, shouted, “Ahoy! ahoy!” when our crew gave three cheers, and right hearty ones they were, and shouted, “Long live King George.”

As yet, not a shot had been fired, and it might have been supposed that we were two friendly ships meeting. On hearing our cheer, the French captain—his name we afterwards heard was Mullon—came on to the gangway, and waving his hat, exclaimed, “Vive la Nation!” on which his crew tried to give three cheers, as we had done; but it was a very poor imitation, I can vouch for it.

They had no one to lead them off, and they uttered shrieks rather than cheers, which, when we gave them, came out with a hearty ringing sound.

We saw the French captain talking to his crew, and waving a cap of liberty which he held in his hand. He then gave it to one of the men, who ran up the rigging and screwed it to the masthead.

“We’ll soon bring that precious cap of yours down, my boys,” cried Dick.

We were all this time at our guns, stripped to the waist, ready and eager to begin the game; and if the Frenchmen behaved as they seemed inclined to do, it would be, we felt sure, pretty sharp work.

The French captain now coming to the gangway, waved his hat. Our captain did the same, and passed the word along the deck that we were not to fire until we saw him raise his hat to his head.

Eagerly watching for the signal, we stood on, gradually nearing the French frigate, both of us running before the wind, until our foremost larboard guns could be brought to bear on the starboard quarter of theCleopatra.

The captain raised his hat. Almost before it was on his head, the foremost gun was fired, the others being rapidly discharged in succession.

We were not to have the game all on our own side, for the French ship at once returned the compliment, and her shot came crashing on board of us.

We now, being within rather less than hailing distance of each other, kept blazing away as fast as we could run our guns in and out. We were doing considerable damage to the Frenchman, we could sea, but we were suffering not a little ourselves. Two of our midshipmen had fallen, killed while steadily going about their duty. Soon afterwards I saw another poor young fellow knocked over. Then the boatswain, in the act of raising his whistle to his mouth, had his head shot away; and some of the men declared that they heard it sounding notwithstanding, as it flew overboard. I saw three or four of our jollies—as we called the marines—drop while firing away from the forecastle. A round shot also striking our mainmast, I every instant expected to see it fall.

Though badly wounded, it was not cut through, however, and the carpenter and his crew set to work immediately to fish it.

We had been engaged some twenty minutes or so, when we saw theCleopatrahaul up some eight points from the wind.

We followed her closely, having no intention of allowing her to escape, if such was the expectation of her commander.

After blazing away some little time longer, down came her mizenmast; directly afterwards her wheel was shot away. She was thus rendered unmanageable, though for some time her crew endeavoured to keep her on her course by trimming sails; but our shot soon cutting away her braces, she played round off, and came stem on towards us, her jibboom passing between our fore and main masts, pressing so hard against the already wounded mainmast that I expected every instant to see it fall, especially as we had lost the main and spring stays. It was a question which would first go, our mainmast or the Frenchman’s jibboom.

Fortunately for us, the latter was carried away, and our mainmast stood. The moment our captain saw the stem of theCleopatrastrike us, supposing that the French were about to board, he shouted out, “Boarders, repel boarders!” But the Frenchmen hadn’t the heart to do it, and instead of their boarding us, we boarded them.

One party, led by our first lieutenant, rushed on the enemy’s forecastle; while another division, headed by the master, got through his main-deck ports.

Although theCleopatra’sjibboom had given way, her larboard main-topmast studding-sail boom-iron had hooked on to the leech rope of our main-topsail, and was producing so powerful a strain on the mast that it seemed as if it could not possibly stand a minute longer. Seeing this, a brave fellow named Burgess, a maintop man, sprang aloft, and, in spite of the bullets aimed at him by some of the French marines stationed aft, cut the leech rope from the end of the main-yard.

Our third lieutenant had in the meantime cut away our best bower anchor, which had hooked on to the enemy’s ship.

I was one of those who had got through the main-deck ports. Following our gallant master, we fought our way aft, the Frenchmen for some time defending themselves bravely; but they could not resist the impetuosity of our charge, our cutlasses slashing and hewing, and our pistols going off within a few inches of their heads. At last many of them began to cry for quarter.

Although they numbered eighty more men than we did, most of them, throwing down their weapons, leapt below, tumbling head over heels upon each other. The rest fled aft, and seeing we had won the day, made no further resistance. Remarking that the Frenchman’s flag was still flying, I sprang aft to the halyards, and down I hauled it, cheering lustily as I did so, the cheer being taken up by the remaining crew of theNymph.

TheCleopatrawas ours. Never did I witness a more fearful sight. The decks fore and aft were slippery with gore, and covered with the dead and dying. During the short time we had been engaged, upwards of sixty had been struck down who, not an hour before, full of health and spirits, had attempted to reply to our cheer. Among them, on one side of the quarter-deck, lay the gallant Captain Mullon, surrounded by a mass of gore, for a round shot had torn open his back and carried away the greater part of his left hip. In one hand he was holding a paper, at which, strange as it may seem, he was biting away and endeavouring to swallow. I, with two other men, went up to him to ascertain what he was about. In the very act his hand fell, his jaw dropped, and there was the paper sticking in his mouth. He was dead. It evidently, however, was not the paper he intended to destroy, but, as it turned out, was his commission; for in his right pocket was found the list of coast signals used by the French, which, with his last gasp, he was thus endeavouring to prevent falling into the hands of the British.

Without loss of time one hundred and fifty prisoners were removed on board theNymph, and just as the last had stepped on board the ships separated.

The third lieutenant, who had been sent on board with a prize crew, at once set to work to repair the damages which theCleopatrahad received, while all hands in theNymphwere actively employed in the game way. When we came to look at our watches, we found that we had dished up the enemy in just fifty minutes from the time the first shot had been fired at her until her flag was hauled down.

“Pretty quick work,” said Dick Hagger to me as we were working together repairing the rigging. “I told you the captain would be sharp about it; he always is at all he undertakes.”

On making up the butcher’s bill, however, as the purser called it, we found that although the Frenchmen out of three hundred and twenty men and boys had lost sixty-three, we, out of our two hundred and forty, had had no less than twenty-three killed and twenty severely wounded, making fifty in all. Of these, the gentlemen belonging to the midshipmen’s berth had suffered most severely, for four of them had been killed and two wounded. Of the senior officers, none had been killed; but the second lieutenant had been wounded, as was the lieutenant of marines, with six of his men.

As soon as sail could be got on the two frigates, we, to my great joy, steered a course for the Isle of Wight. I now felt more thankful than ever that I had escaped, as there seemed every probability that I should be able to see my dear wife, or at all events communicate with her. As soon as I went below, though I could with difficulty keep my eyes from closing, I opened my letter and added a few lines describing the action, and then placed it in my pocket, ready to send off on the first opportunity.

In spite of the poor fellows suffering below, and the number of shipmates we had lost, we felt very happy as with a fair breeze we sailed in through the Needles, our well-won prize following in our wake.

Never did those high-pointed rocks look more white and glittering or the downs more green and beautiful, while the blue sea sparkling in the sunlight seemed to share our joy. The people on the shore, as we passed the little town of Yarmouth, waved to us, and threw up their hats, and the flags from many a flagstaff flew out to the breeze.

As soon as we brought up at Spithead, I eagerly looked out for a boat going to the shore, by which to send my letter, hoping to have it delivered at once, instead of letting it go through the post office; but, as it was late in the evening, no shore boats came off, and I had to wait all the night, thinking how little my dear wife supposed I was so near her.

I turned out at daybreak, before the hammocks were piped up, that I might take a look at the spot where I thought she was living. Suddenly a sickness came over me. What if she should have been taken ill when I was so rudely torn from her! Perhaps she had never recovered, and was even now numbered among the dead. I could scarcely refrain from jumping overboard and trying to swim to Southsea beach. It seemed so near, and yet I knew that I could not do it. Then I thought I would go boldly up to the first lieutenant and tell him how treacherously I had been carried off,—snatched, as it were, from the arms of my young wife,—and ask him to give me leave for a few hours, promising faithfully to come back at the time he might name. Then I reflected that the ship was short-handed, that we had the prisoners to guard, and that until she had been brought up safe in Portsmouth harbour, every man would be required for duty.

“It would be useless to ask him,” I groaned out. “He’ll remember I’m a pressed man, and would not trust me. It is too common for men to break their word and desert, indifferent to what others may suffer in consequence. No,” I thought, “I’ll try to send my letter first, and then wait with all the patience I can muster until I can get an answer.”

Before long the hands were turned up, and we all set about our usual duties, washing down decks and giving them a double allowance of holystoning, to try and get out more of the blood stains before, visitors should come on board.

Scarcely was this work over than the order was given to get up the anchor and make sail, as, tide and wind being favourable, we were to run into harbour.

My heart bounded at the thought, I sprang with eagerness to my station, the ship gathered way and, followed by our prize, we stood towards the well-known entrance of Portsmouth harbour.

Chapter Eighteen.The ship made snug—Visitors come on board—Jerry Vincent—News of my wife, and home—How my uncle became indignant—Jerry wishes me to take French leave—I refuse, I ask for and obtain permission to go ashore—Meeting with Uncle Kelson—Jerry prepares my wife for the interview—Tempted to desert—A happy time—Jerry’s recollections—On board the Arethusa—Yarns—A ghost story—A slippery deck—The pirates’ heads.TheNymphunder all plain sail, our prize following in our wake, glided on past Southsea Castle—the yellow beach, the green expanse of the common, the lines of houses and cottages beyond the Postdown hills rising in the distance, the batteries of Gosport and Portsmouth ahead, the masts of numberless vessels of all sizes seen beyond them.I waited at my station in the fore-top for the order to shorten sail I cast many a glance towards the shore, where she whom I loved best on earth was, I fancied, gazing at the two ships with thousands of other spectators, little supposing that I was on board one of them. As we entered the harbour, we heard with joyous hearts the order given to shorten sail. The boatswain’s pipe sounded shrilly; the topmen flew aloft. Never did a ship’s crew pull and haul, and run out on the yards, with greater alacrity to furl the canvas.The water was covered with boats, the people standing up and waving and cheering. It was no easy matter to steer clear of them as we stood up the harbour. When rounding to off the dockyard, the anchor was dropped, the cable running out like lightning, as if eager to do its duty and help to bring us safe home. The prize then massing us, brought up close under our stern.Scarcely was the cable stoppered, and the ship made snug, than hundreds of boats pulled up alongside, those on board anxious to hear all about the victory we had gained.Among the first was a somewhat battered-looking wherry, with a little wizened old man and a boy pulling. The former, catching sight of me as I stretched my neck through a port, throwing in his oar, uttered a shout of astonishment, and then, with the agility of a monkey, quickly clambered up the side by a rope I hove to him.“What! Will, Will, is it you yourself?” exclaimed Jerry Vincent, wringing my hand and gazing into my face. “We all thought you were far away in the East Indies, and Mistress Kelson made up her mind that you’d never come back from that hot region where they fry beefsteaks on the capstan-head.”“But my wife—my wife! is she well? Oh, tell me, Mr Vincent,” I exclaimed, interrupting him. “She expected me to come back.”“She’s well enough, if not so hearty as we’d be wishing; for, to say the truth, the roses don’t bloom in her cheeks as they used to do.”I cannot describe the joy and relief this reply brought to my heart. The gratitude which I felt made me give old Jerry a hug, which well-nigh pressed the breath out of his body.“Why, Will, my boy, you are taking me for Mrs Weatherhelm,” he exclaimed, bursting into a fit of laughter. “You’ll soon see her, and then you can hug her as long as you like, if you can get leave to go on shore; if not, I’ll go and bring her here as quick as I can pull back to the point and toddle away over to Southsea.”“Oh, no, no; I wouldn’t have her here on any account,” I answered as I thought of the disreputable characters who in shoals would soon be crowding the decks, and who were even now waiting in the boats until they were allowed to come on board.“Tell me, Jerry, about my uncle and Aunt Bretta; how are they both?”“Hearty, though the old gentleman did take on when you were carried away by the pressgang. If ever I saw him inclined to run a-muck, it was then. We had a hard matter, I can tell you, to prevent him from posting off to London to see the First Lord of the Admiralty, to grapple him by the throat if he did not send an order down at once to have you liberated. I don’t know, indeed, what he’d have done; but at last we persuaded him that if he made up his mind to proceed to such extremities, the First Lord would either laugh in his face or order the porters to kick him down stairs. He in time came to that conclusion himself, and so quieted down, observing that you would do your duty and bear yourself like a man.”“I must try and get leave from the first lieutenant. He could not refuse me, when I tell him I was torn away from my wife, and I will promise to be back again at any time he may name.”“You may try it, Will, but I’m not so sure about the matter. If he doesn’t, why, I’d advise you to take French leave and slip into my wherry as soon as it’s dark. I’ll have a bit of canvas to cover you up, and pull you ashore in a jiffey. You can land at the yard of a friend of mine, not far from the point, and disguise yourself in shore-going toggery. Every one knows me, and I’ll get you through the gates; and if I’m accused of helping you off, I’ll stand the consequences. It can only be a few months in gaol, and though I’d rather have my liberty, I can make myself happy wherever I am.”“No, Jerry, I would not let you run that risk for my sake on any account; nor would I run it myself, much as I love my liberty and my wife,” I answered. “You stay here and I’ll go and ask the first lieutenant at once; if he refuses me now, he’ll be sure to give me leave another day.”“Well go Will,—go,” said Jerry. “I’m much afraid that your first lieutenant, unless he is very much unlike others I have known, won’t care a rap about your wife’s feelings or yours. He’ll just tell you it’s the same tale half the ship’s company have to tell, and if your wife wants to see you, she may come aboard like the rest of the women.”Without waiting to hear more of what Jerry might say, I hurried aft, and found the first lieutenant issuing his orders.“What is it you want, my man?” he asked as I approached him, hat in hand.“Please, sir, I’ve got a young wife ashore at Southsea, and I was torn away from her by a pressgang. May I have leave to go and see her, and I promise to be back at any time you may name.”“A pressed man!—no, no, my fine fellow, no pressed men can be allowed out of the ship. They may take it into their heads not to return at all,” he answered, turning away.“Pardon me, sir,” I said, “but I give you my word of honour that I will come back as soon as you order me.”He glanced round with a look of astonishment, muttering, “Your word of honour! Who are you, my man?”“I am a Shetlander, sir. I have been brought up to keep my word. Though I was pressed, I have done my duty. It was I, sir, who hauled down the flag of theCleopatrawhen we took her.”While he was speaking, a midshipman brought him a letter. He opened it, and glancing over the few lines it contained, his eye brightened. I stood watching, resolved not to be defeated.As soon as he had folded the letter and put it into his pocket, I again stepped up.“May I go, sir?” I said.“Well,” he answered, smiling, “you hauled down the Frenchman’s flag. I am to have my reward, and you shall have yours. You may go ashore, but you must be back in three days. All the crew will be required for putting the ship to rights, to take the mainmast out of her and replace it by a new one,” and he ordered one of the clerks to put down my name as having leave.I found afterwards that the letter I saw him read contained an intimation that he was forthwith to be made a commander.In a few days the news was received that the great Earl of Chatham had presented our captain and his brother to King George, who had been pleased to knight our captain, and to make Commander Pellew a post-captain.No one else, that I know of, obtained any honours or rewards, though each man and boy received his share of prize-money, and with that we had no cause to complain.However, to go back to the moment when the first lieutenant gave me leave. “Thank you, sir! thank you!” I exclaimed, with difficulty stopping myself from tossing up my hat for joy.As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I rushed below, and, taking the things I wanted out of my bag, I tumbled into Jerry’s wherry.The old man pulled as fast as he and his boy could lay their backs to the oars.“Stop, stop, my lad! wait for me!” he exclaimed as I jumped ashore and was preparing to run to Southsea. “You’ll frighten your wife and send her into ‘high strikes’ if you pounce down upon her as you seem inclined to do. Wait till I go ahead and tell her to be looking out for you. You won’t lose much time, and prevent a great deal of mischief, though I can’t move along quite at the rate of ten knots an hour, as you seem inclined to do.”I at once saw the wisdom of Jerry’s advice, and waited, though somewhat impatiently, until he and his boy had secured the boat.“Come along, Will, my lad,” he said at length, stepping ashore; “I’ll show you what my old legs can do,” and off he set.We soon crossed the High Street, and made our way through the gate leading out of the town on to Southsea Common.The village of Southsea was but a small, insignificant place in those days. We had not gone far when we caught sight of a person with a wooden leg stumping along at a good rate some way ahead. Although his back was towards us, I at once felt sure that he was Uncle Kelson.“All right!” cried Jerry, “that’s Mr Kelson. He always carries a press of sail. It couldn’t have been better. I’ll go on and make him heave-to, and just tell him to guess who’s come back; but I don’t think there’s much fear of his getting the ‘high strikes’ even though he was to set eyes on you all of a sudden.”I brought up for a moment so as to let Jerry get ahead of me.“Heave-to, cap’en! heave-to! I ain’t a thundering big enemy from whom you’ve any cause to run,” I heard him shouting out. “Just look round, and maybe you’ll see somebody you won’t be sorry to see, I’ve a notion.”My uncle, hearing Jerry’s voice, turned his head, and instantly catching sight of me, came running along with both his arms outstretched, his countenance beaming all over like a landscape lighted up by sunshine. I was somewhat fearful lest he should fall, but I caught him, and we shook hands for a minute at least, his voice almost choking as he exclaimed, “I am glad! I am glad! Bless my heart, how glad I am! And your wife, Will? You’ll soon make her all to rights. Not that she is ill, but that she’s been pining for you, poor lass; but no wonder: it’s a way the women have. Glad I hadn’t a wife until I was able to live on shore and look after her. Come along! come along!” and he took my arm, almost again falling in his eagerness to get over the ground, which here and there was soft and sandy, and full of holes in other places.“Please, Mr Kelson, as I was a-telling of your nevvy, it won’t do just to come down on the lass like a thunder-clap, or it may send her over on her beam-ends,” said Jerry as he ranged up alongside, puffing and blowing with his exertions. “Just you stop and talk to him when we get near the house, and let me go ahead and I’ll break the matter gently, like a soft summer shower, so that they’ll be all to rights and ready for him when he comes.”Jerry, I guessed, wanted to undertake the matter himself, suspecting that my uncle would, notwithstanding his good intentions, blurt out the truth too suddenly.I therefore answered for him, that we would wait till Jerry had gone to the house and summoned us, though I had to exert no small amount of resolution to stop short of the door when we got in sight of it.Jerry ran on at first, but went more deliberately as he approached the door, when, knocking, he was admitted.He must be spinning a tremendous long yarn, I thought, for it seemed to me as if he had kept us half an hour, though I believe it was only two or three minutes, when at length he appeared and beckoned.“Come along, Will! come along, my boy!” cried my uncle, keeping hold of my arm; but, no longer able to restrain my impatience, I sprang forward and, brushing past old Jerry, rushed into the house.There was my Margaret, with Aunt Bretta by her side to support her; but she needed no support except my arm. After a little time, though still clinging with her arms round my neck, she allowed me to embrace my good aunt. My uncle soon joined us, and Old Jerry poked his head in at the door, saying with a knowing nod, “All right, I see there’s been no ‘high strikes.’ I shall be one too many if I stop. Good-day, ladies; good-day, friends all. I’ll look in to-morrow, or maybe the next evening; but I shall have plenty of work in the harbour, taking off people to see the prize and the ship which captured her.”“Stop, Jerry, stop!” cried my uncle; “have a glass of grog before you go?”“No, thankee, cap’en,” answered Jerry. “I must keep a clear head on my shoulders. If I once takes a taste, maybe I shall want another as I pass the Blue Posteses.”Uncle Kelson did not press the point, and the old man took his departure.Of course it required a long time to tell all that had happened to me, but I need not describe those happy days on shore. My dear wife would scarcely allow me for a moment to be out of her sight. She once asked the question, “Must you go back?”“I have given my word that I would,” I answered. I knew full well what her heart wished, though she had too much regard for my honour even to hint at the possibility of my breaking my word.Aunt Bretta and Uncle Kelson were of the same way of thinking; but old Jerry, who paid us a visit the second evening according to his promise, looked at the matter in a very different light.“Now, Will, I’ve been thinking over this here business of yours every day since I first clapped eyes on you, and I’ve made up my mind that as they had no right to press you aboard that ’ere frigate, you have every right to make yourself scarce. I’ve got the whole affair cut and dry. There’s a friend of mine who is as true as steel. He’s got a light cart, and we intend to bundle you in soon after dark, and drive away, maybe to Chichester, and maybe to some country place where you can lie snug till the frigate has sailed, and the hue and cry after you is over.“It’s all as smooth as oil. There’ll only be one man less aboard, as there would be if a shot was to take your head off; so it can’t make any odds to the captain and officers. And let me tell you, you’ll have a different set over you; for Mr Morris the first lieutenant, has got his promotion, Mr Lake is too badly wounded to allow him to return on board for some time, and the captain is sure to get a better ship; so you don’t know what double-fisted fellows you’ll get in their places.“Follow my advice, Will; escape from all the tyranny and floggings, for what you can tell, that are in store for you. Run, and be a free man.”“No, no, Mr Vincent; the advice you give is well meant, but I dare not even ask my husband to do as you propose,” answered Margaret in a firm voice, though she looked very sad as she spoke. “He would not be a happy man if he broke his word, and he has given that word to return. Even I can say, ‘Go back to your duty.’”“So do I,” said Uncle Kelson, “though, if he had not given his word, I don’t know what I might have advised.”“We can all pray for him,” said Aunt Bretta, “and I trust that we shall see him again before long, when he is free and can with a clean conscience remain with us.”“I thank you, Jerry, for your good wishes,” I put in. “It cannot be, you see. I wish I could get away from the ship; but until I am paid off, and properly discharged, though I was pressed, I am bound to remain; so if you care for me, do not say anything more on the subject.”“Well, well, if it must be, so it must,” answered Jerry with a deep sigh. “Some people’s notions ain’t like other people’s notions, that’s all I’ve got to say; and now I think it’s time for me to be tripping my anchor.”“No, no, not until you have wetted your whistle,” said Uncle Kelson, beginning to mix a glass of grog.The old man’s eyes glistened as he resumed his seat, replacing his hat under the chair; and putting his hand out to take the tumbler which my uncle pushed towards him across the table, and sipping it slowly, he looked up and said:“I forgot to tell you that Sir Edward Pellew, as we must now call him since he got the sword laid across his shoulders by the king, has been appointed to the command of theArethusa, a fine new frigate which will make a name for herself, if I mistake not, as the old one did. You remember her, cap’en, don’t you! It was her they writ the song about,” and he began singing:—“Come all ye jolly sailors boldWhose hearts are cast in honour’s mould,While English glory I unfold:Huzza! to theArethusa;She is a frigate tight and braveAs ever stemmed the dashing wave,Her men are staunch to their fav’rite launch.And when the foe shall meet our fire,Sooner than strike, we’ll all expireOn board of theArethusa!“’Twas with the spring fleet she went out,The English Channel to cruise about,When four French sail, in show so stout,Bore down on theArethusa.The famedBelle Poulestraight ahead did lie,TheArethusaseemed to fly,Not a sheet or a tack or a brace did she slack,Though the Frenchman laughed and thought it stuff,But they knew not the handful of men how toughOn board of theArethusa!“On deck five hundred men did dance,The stoutest they could find in France;We with two hundred did advance,On board of theArethusa!Our captain hail’d the Frenchman, ‘Ho!’The Frenchman then cried out ‘Hullo!’‘Bear down, d’ye see, to our Admiral’s lee.’‘No, no,’ says the Frenchman; ‘that can’t be.’‘Then I must lug you along with me,’Says the saucyArethusa!“The fight was off the Frenchman’s land.We forced them back upon their strand,For we fought till not a stick would standOf the gallantArethusa.And now we’ve driven the foe ashore,Never to fight with Britons more,Let each fill a glass to his fav’rite lass,A health to our captain and officers true,And all who belong to the jovial crewOn board of theArethusa!”“I mind,” continued Jerry after another sip at his grog, “that she carried thirty-two guns, and was commanded by Captain Marshall. It was in the year 1778, just before the last war broke out. We hadn’t come to loggerheads with the mounseers, though we knew pretty well that it wouldn’t be long before we were that. We and two other frigates sailed down Channel with a fleet of twenty sail of the line under Admiral Keppel.“When off the Lizard, on the 17th of June, we made out two frigates and a schooner to the southward. On seeing them, and guessing that they were French, the Admiral ordered us and theMilfordto go in chase. The strangers separated, theMilfordfrigate andHector, a seventy-four, following the other ship, which turned out to be theLicorne, and took her; while theAlbertcutter pursued the schooner, and captured her by boarding after a sharp struggle. We meantime alone followed the other stranger, which was the French forty gun frigateBelle Poule.“On getting within hailing distance, our captain, in the politest manner possible, invited the French captain to sail back with him to the English fleet.“‘No, no,’ answered the French skipper, ‘that it cannot be, seeing I am bound elsewhere.’“‘Then, mounseer, I must obey orders and make you come with me,’ says our captain just as politely as before, and without further ado he ordered the crew of the foremost main-deck gun to fire a shot across the French ship’s bows. It was the first shot fired during the war. We in return got the Frenchman’s whole broadside crashing aboard us.“We then began pounding away at each other as close as we could get. It seemed wonderful to me that we were not both of us blown out of the water. Our men were falling pretty thickly, some killed and many more wounded, while our sails and rigging were getting much cut up.“You see the enemy had twenty guns on a side to our sixteen, but we tossed ours in and out so sharply that we made up for the difference. For two mortal hours we kept blazing away, getting almost as much as we gave, till scarcely a stick could stand aboard us; but our captain was not the man to give in, and while he could he kept at it. At last, our rigging and canvas being cut to pieces, and our masts ready to fall, so that we could not make sail, theBelle Poulehaving had enough of it, shot ahead, and succeeded in getting under the land where we were unable to follow her.“The song says that we drove her ashore; but though we did no exactly do that, we knocked her well about, and she had forty-eight men and officers killed and fifty wounded. As it was, as I have said, the first action in the old war, it was more talked about than many others. We lost our captain, not from his being killed, but from his getting a bigger ship, and Captain Everitt was appointed in his stead.“The oldArethusa, after this, continued a Channel cruiser. We had pretty sharp work at different times, chasing the enemy, and capturing their merchantmen, and cutting-out vessels from their harbours; but we had no action like the one the song was wrote about.“At last, in the March of the next year, when some fifty leagues or more off Brest, we made out a French frigate inshore of us. Instead of standing bravely out to fight the saucyArethusa, she squared away her yards and ran for that port. We made all sail in chase, hoping to come up with her before she could get into harbour. We were gaining on her, and were expecting that we should have another fight like that with theBelle Poule, when, as we came in sight of the outer roads of Brest, what should we see but a thumping seventy-four, which, guessing what we were, slipping her cable, stood out under all sail to catch us.“We might have tackled the seventy-four alone, with a good breeze; but we well knew that if we did not up stick and cut, we should either be knocked to pieces or be sent to the bottom; so our captain, as in duty bound, ordered us to brace up the yards and try to make the best of our way out of danger. We might have done so had there been a strong breeze blowing, but we could not beat the ship off shore as fast as we wanted.“Night came down upon us, and a very dark night it was. We could not see the land, but we knew it was under our lee, when presently thump goes the ship ashore. Our captain did his best to get her off, but all our attempts were of no use. The saucyArethusawas hard and fast on the rocks.“The word was given to lower the boats. I was one of the first cutter’s crew. We had got her into the water, and the master, as good a seaman as ever stepped, came with us, and two young midshipmites.“‘We’ll not be made prisoners if we can help it, lads,’ said the master. ‘Here, lower down these two casks of bread, and this breaker of water.’“We had no time to get more, and we hoped the other boats would follow our example, but they would have to be sharp about it. We got round from under the lee of the ship, against which the surf was already breaking heavily, and pulled away to the windward out to sea. You may be sure we pulled as men do who are pulling for their lives and liberty. If we had been a minute later, we shouldn’t have done it. No other boats that we could see followed us. Next morning we were twenty miles off shore.“We felt very downcast at the thoughts that we had lost our little frigate, but were thankful to have got away from a French prison. We learned afterwards that the captain, fearing for the lives of his people, sent the other boats at once to the shore, and establishing a communication, managed to land the whole crew, who were forthwith made prisoners. It was fortunate that we had the biscuit and water, or we should have been starved to death; for it was a week or more before we fell in with an English homeward-bound West Indiaman, when we had not a gill of liquid left, and not a biscuit a-piece. I learned the value of water at that time, but I have always held to the opinion that a little good rum mixed with it adds greatly to its taste,” and Jerry winked at my uncle with one eye, and with the other looked at his tumbler, which was empty.Uncle Kelson mixed him another glass.“Ladies both,” he said, looking round at my aunt and Margaret, “here’s to your health, and may Will be with you a free man before many months are over. Maybe you haven’t heard of the ghost we had on board the oldCornwall, some years before the time I am speaking of? If you haven’t, I’ll tell you about it. Did you ever have a ghost aboard any ship you sailed in, cap’en? Maybe not. They don’t seem to show themselves now-a-days, as they used to do.“Dick Carcass was the boatswain of the oldCornwallwhen I served aboard her. He was a tall spare man with high shoulders and a peculiar walk, so that it was impossible to mistake him meet him where you might. He was also a prime seaman, and had a mouth that could whistle the winds out of conceit. If he did use a rope’s-end on the backs of the boys sometimes, it was all for their own good. We were bound out one winter time to Halifax, Nova Scotia. It isn’t the pleasantest time of the year to be sailing across the North Atlantic. We had had a pretty long passage, with westerly gales, which kept all hands employed. The boatswain was seldom off deck, and a rough life he had of it.“At last, what with the hard work he had to do, and having been in hospital too before we sailed, he fell sick, and one night the doctor came out of his cabin and told us he was dead. Now our captain was a kind-hearted man; and as he expected to be in port in two or three days, instead of sewing the boatswain up in a hammock and lowering him overboard, he gave notice that he should keep him to give him decent Christian burial on shore, and let the parson pray over him, for, d’ye see, we had none aboard. To pay him every respect, a sentry was placed at the door of his cabin in the cockpit. He had been dead three or four days, and we had expected to get into port in two or three at the furthest; so as the wind continued foul, and might hold in the same quarter a week longer, the captain, thinking the bo’sun wouldn’t keep much longer, at last determined to have him buried the next morning. That night I had just gone below, and was passing close to the sentry, when he asked me if I couldn’t make his lantern burn brighter. He was a chum of mine, d’ye see. I took it down from the hook where it was hanging, and was trying to snuff it, when all of a sudden the door of Mr Carcass’s cabin opened with a bang like a clap of thunder, and, as I’m a living man, I heard the bo’sun’s voice, for you may be sure I knew it well, shout out:—“‘Sentry, give us a light, will ye!’“Somehow or other—maybe I nipped the wick too hard—the candle went out, and down fell the lantern. I did not stop to pick it up, nor did the sentry who got the start of me, and off we set, scampering away like rats with a terrier at their tails, till we gained the upper step of the cockpit ladder. We then stopped and listened. There were steps thundering along the deck. They came to the very foot of the ladder. Presently we heard something mounting them slowly. The sentry moved on. So did I, but looking round I saw as surely as I sit here, the head of old Dick Carcass’s ghost rising slowly above the deck.“We did not stop to see more of him, but walked away for’ard. Again we stopped, when there he was, standing on the deck—eight feet high he looked at least—rubbing his eyes, which glared out at us like balls of fire.“We made for the fore-ladder, and there thought to get out of its way by moving aft as fast as our legs could carry us. Presently, as I looked over my shoulder, I saw the ghost come up the ladder on to the forecastle. The men there saw him too, for they scuttled away on either side, and left him to walk alone. For five minutes or more he kept pacing up and down the deck, just as he was accustomed to do when he was alive. By this time the men were crowding aft, the sentry among them, when the lieutenant of the watch, thinking maybe there was going to be a mutiny, or something of that sort, sings out and axes what we were about.“‘Sir,’ answers the sentry, who was bold enough now; ‘there’s the ghost of Mr Carcass a walking the fo’c’stle.’“‘The ghost of Mr Carcass be hanged! he is quiet enough in his cabin, poor man. What are all you fools thinking about?’ says the lieutenant. ‘Be off for’ard with you.’“‘He is there, sir! he is there! It is the bo’sun’s ghost,’ we all sung out, one after the other, none of us feeling inclined to go near him.“‘Blockheads!’ cried the lieutenant, beginning to get angry.“‘It is him, sir; it is him,’ cried others. ‘He’s got on the hat and monkey jacket he always wears.’“The lieutenant now became very angry, and ordering us out of the way, boldly steps forward. When, however, he gets abreast of the barge, he stops, for there he sees as clearly as we did the bo’sun’s tall figure pacing the deck, with his hands behind his back, looking for all the world just as he had done when he was alive.“Now the lieutenant was as brave a man as ever stepped, but he did not like it, that was clear; still he felt that go on he must, and so on he went until he got up to the foremast, and then he sings out slowly, as if his words did not come up readily to his mouth:—“‘Mr Car-car-car-cass, is that you?’“‘Sir!’ said the ghost, turning round and coming aft.“‘Mr Car-car-car-cass, is that you?’ again sings out the lieutenant.“‘Sir!’ answers the boatswain, and he came nearer.“The lieutenant stepped back, so did we, all the whole watch tumbling over on each other. Still facing for’ard, the gallant lieutenant kept retreating, and the ghost kept coming on slowly, as ghosts always do, I’m told, though I can’t say as I’ve had much experience with those sort of gentry. At last the ghost sings out:—“‘Pardon me, Mr Pringle, what’s the matter? have all the people gone mad?’“‘Who are you?’ asked the lieutenant.“‘I am Richard Carcass, bo’sun of this here ship, to the best of my knowledge, and was never anybody else, sir.’“‘What! ain’t you dead?’ says the lieutenant.“‘Not that I knows on,’ answers the ghost. ‘I was alive when it struck eight bells in the middle watch, and its now only just gone two. I take it it is the morning watch, for I heard it strike just before that stupid sentry put out his light, and for some reason or other I couldn’t make out, took to his heels.’“‘Why, the doctor said you were dead,’ says the lieutenant.“‘The doctor, then, doesn’t know a dead bo’sun from a live one,’ answered Mr Carcass.“‘Well, I wish you’d let him see you, and hear what he’s got to say on the subject;’ and he ordered the midshipman of the watch to call the doctor, who came on deck, grumbling not a little at being roused out from his berth. When he saw the bo’sun he seemed mighty pleased, and taking him by the hand told us all that he was as alive as ever he was, and advised him to turn in again and get some sleep, as the night was cold, and he was on the sick list.“Well, ladies, that was the only ghost I ever saw. He was not dead either, but had been in a sort of trance, and when he heard two bells strike, not knowing how many days had passed since he had gone to sleep, he called for a light, but not getting it, he dressed in the dark and came on deck, thinking he ought to be there.”Jerry spun other yarns before he took his leave. He was once, he declared, on board a trader bound out from Ireland to the West Indies with butter and cheese, “TheJane and Mary, that was her name,” he continued. “We were off the coast of Saint Domingo, almost becalmed, when we made out a couple of suspicious—looking craft sweeping off towards us. That they were pirates we had no doubt. At that time those sort of gentry used to cut the throats of every man on board if there was the slightest resistance.“Our skipper, Captain Dillon, was a determined fellow, and had proved himself a good seaman during the passage.“‘Lads,’ he sang out, ‘do you wish to be taken and hove overboard to feed the sharks, or will you try to save the ship if those scoundrels come up to us? I’ll promise you we’ll beat them if they venture aboard.’“We all answered that we were ready to stick by him, for I believe there was not one of us that did not think we should be dead men before the day was an hour older. The mates promised also to fight to the last.“‘Be smart then, my lads, get up some of the cargo from the hold.’ We soon had a dozen butter casks hoisted up, knocked in their ends, and payed the decks, and sides, and ropes, and every part of the ship over with the butter. We chucked our shoes below, and got the cutlasses, boarding pikes, and pistols ready. In a few minutes the deck was so slippery, that a man, unless without his shoes, could not stand upon it. We were all ready, with our cutlasses at our sides and the pikes handy, to give the scoundrels a warm reception. Meantime theJane and Marydid her best, as far as the breeze would help her, to keep moving through the water.“The pirates crept up, and kept firing away at us, one on one quarter and one on the other.“We answered them with the few guns we carried, though each of them had nearly twice as many as we had, while their decks were crowded with men. Presently they ranged up alongside, and both boarded together, a score or more villainous-looking rascals leaping down on our decks, expecting to gain an easy victory; but they never made a greater mistake in their lives, and it was the last most of them had the chance of making. The moment their feet touched our deck, over they fell flat on their faces, while we with our cutlasses, rushing in among them, killed every mother’s son of their number. Others following, shouting, shrieking, and swearing, met the same fate; when the rest of the pirates, seeing what was happening, though not knowing the cause, but fancying, I suppose, that we had bewitched them, sheered off, and the breeze freshening we stood away, leaving the two feluccas far astern. Forty men lay dead on our decks, and not one of us was hurt.“‘Heave the carcases overboard, and swab up the decks,’ cried our skipper, as coolly as if nothing had happened.“We had a pretty job to clean the ship afterwards, but we didn’t mind the trouble, seeing that we had saved our lives, and the skipper was well content to lose the dozen casks of batter which had served us so good a turn.“That skipper of ours had no small amount of humour in his composition, though it was somewhat of a grim character. Before we hove the bodies overboard, he ordered us to cut off the heads of those who had fallen, forty in number, and to pickle them in the empty butter casks, lest, as he said, his account of the transaction might be disbelieved by the good people of Jamaica.“We arrived safely in Kingston harbour, where the merchants and a lot of other persons came on board. Many of our visitors, when they heard the skipper describe the way we had beaten off the pirates, looked incredulous.“‘Seeing is believing,’ says he, and he ordered the casks which had been kept on deck to be opened. It was mightily amusing to watch the way our visitors looked at each other, when our skipper forthwith produced the gory heads, among which was that of the captain of one of the piratical craft and that of the first mate of the other.“Some of them started back with horror, as well they might, for the heads looked dreadful enough as they were pulled out in succession.“‘There’s the whole score,’ says the skipper, as we arranged them along each side of the quarter-deck. ‘Now, gentlemen, what have you got to say about my veracity?’“After that, you may be sure the captain’s word was never doubted. The heads were then hove overboard, and it was said that Old Tom, the big shark which used to cruise about between Port Royal and Kingston, got the best part of them for his supper. I’m pretty sure he did, because for many a day after that he was not seen, and some thought he had died of indigestion by swallowing those pirates’ heads. Howsomdever, he wasn’t dead after all, as poor Bob Rattan, an old messmate of mine, found out to his cost. Just about two months had gone by, and Bob one evening was trying to swim from his ship to the shore, when Old Tom caught, him by the leg and hauled him to the bottom. His head was washed ashore three days afterwards, bitten clean off, a certain proof that Old Tom had swallowed the pirates’ heads, and not finding them agree with him, had left poor Bob’s alone.“Taking in a cargo of sugar we sailed homewards; but I can tell you, till we were well clear of the West Indies we didn’t feel comfortable, lest we should fall in again with the pirates, when, as we had no butter aboard to grease our decks, the chances were, we knew, that in revenge they would have cut all our throats and sent the ship to the bottom.“You see, ladies, that a man may go through no end of dangers, and yet come scot free out of them. So I hope will our friend here, and have many a yarn to spin, and that I may be present to hear them, although I don’t think he’ll beat mine; and now, as it’s getting late, I’ll wish you good evening;” and Jerry, taking his hat from under the chair, shook hands with all round.“You won’t take my advice then, Will?” he whispered, as he came to me. “Well, well, it’s a pity. Good-night, lad, good-night, I’ll see you aboard theNymph;” and he hurried away across the common towards the beach where he had left his boat, intending to pass the night under her, as was his general custom in the summer.

TheNymphunder all plain sail, our prize following in our wake, glided on past Southsea Castle—the yellow beach, the green expanse of the common, the lines of houses and cottages beyond the Postdown hills rising in the distance, the batteries of Gosport and Portsmouth ahead, the masts of numberless vessels of all sizes seen beyond them.

I waited at my station in the fore-top for the order to shorten sail I cast many a glance towards the shore, where she whom I loved best on earth was, I fancied, gazing at the two ships with thousands of other spectators, little supposing that I was on board one of them. As we entered the harbour, we heard with joyous hearts the order given to shorten sail. The boatswain’s pipe sounded shrilly; the topmen flew aloft. Never did a ship’s crew pull and haul, and run out on the yards, with greater alacrity to furl the canvas.

The water was covered with boats, the people standing up and waving and cheering. It was no easy matter to steer clear of them as we stood up the harbour. When rounding to off the dockyard, the anchor was dropped, the cable running out like lightning, as if eager to do its duty and help to bring us safe home. The prize then massing us, brought up close under our stern.

Scarcely was the cable stoppered, and the ship made snug, than hundreds of boats pulled up alongside, those on board anxious to hear all about the victory we had gained.

Among the first was a somewhat battered-looking wherry, with a little wizened old man and a boy pulling. The former, catching sight of me as I stretched my neck through a port, throwing in his oar, uttered a shout of astonishment, and then, with the agility of a monkey, quickly clambered up the side by a rope I hove to him.

“What! Will, Will, is it you yourself?” exclaimed Jerry Vincent, wringing my hand and gazing into my face. “We all thought you were far away in the East Indies, and Mistress Kelson made up her mind that you’d never come back from that hot region where they fry beefsteaks on the capstan-head.”

“But my wife—my wife! is she well? Oh, tell me, Mr Vincent,” I exclaimed, interrupting him. “She expected me to come back.”

“She’s well enough, if not so hearty as we’d be wishing; for, to say the truth, the roses don’t bloom in her cheeks as they used to do.”

I cannot describe the joy and relief this reply brought to my heart. The gratitude which I felt made me give old Jerry a hug, which well-nigh pressed the breath out of his body.

“Why, Will, my boy, you are taking me for Mrs Weatherhelm,” he exclaimed, bursting into a fit of laughter. “You’ll soon see her, and then you can hug her as long as you like, if you can get leave to go on shore; if not, I’ll go and bring her here as quick as I can pull back to the point and toddle away over to Southsea.”

“Oh, no, no; I wouldn’t have her here on any account,” I answered as I thought of the disreputable characters who in shoals would soon be crowding the decks, and who were even now waiting in the boats until they were allowed to come on board.

“Tell me, Jerry, about my uncle and Aunt Bretta; how are they both?”

“Hearty, though the old gentleman did take on when you were carried away by the pressgang. If ever I saw him inclined to run a-muck, it was then. We had a hard matter, I can tell you, to prevent him from posting off to London to see the First Lord of the Admiralty, to grapple him by the throat if he did not send an order down at once to have you liberated. I don’t know, indeed, what he’d have done; but at last we persuaded him that if he made up his mind to proceed to such extremities, the First Lord would either laugh in his face or order the porters to kick him down stairs. He in time came to that conclusion himself, and so quieted down, observing that you would do your duty and bear yourself like a man.”

“I must try and get leave from the first lieutenant. He could not refuse me, when I tell him I was torn away from my wife, and I will promise to be back again at any time he may name.”

“You may try it, Will, but I’m not so sure about the matter. If he doesn’t, why, I’d advise you to take French leave and slip into my wherry as soon as it’s dark. I’ll have a bit of canvas to cover you up, and pull you ashore in a jiffey. You can land at the yard of a friend of mine, not far from the point, and disguise yourself in shore-going toggery. Every one knows me, and I’ll get you through the gates; and if I’m accused of helping you off, I’ll stand the consequences. It can only be a few months in gaol, and though I’d rather have my liberty, I can make myself happy wherever I am.”

“No, Jerry, I would not let you run that risk for my sake on any account; nor would I run it myself, much as I love my liberty and my wife,” I answered. “You stay here and I’ll go and ask the first lieutenant at once; if he refuses me now, he’ll be sure to give me leave another day.”

“Well go Will,—go,” said Jerry. “I’m much afraid that your first lieutenant, unless he is very much unlike others I have known, won’t care a rap about your wife’s feelings or yours. He’ll just tell you it’s the same tale half the ship’s company have to tell, and if your wife wants to see you, she may come aboard like the rest of the women.”

Without waiting to hear more of what Jerry might say, I hurried aft, and found the first lieutenant issuing his orders.

“What is it you want, my man?” he asked as I approached him, hat in hand.

“Please, sir, I’ve got a young wife ashore at Southsea, and I was torn away from her by a pressgang. May I have leave to go and see her, and I promise to be back at any time you may name.”

“A pressed man!—no, no, my fine fellow, no pressed men can be allowed out of the ship. They may take it into their heads not to return at all,” he answered, turning away.

“Pardon me, sir,” I said, “but I give you my word of honour that I will come back as soon as you order me.”

He glanced round with a look of astonishment, muttering, “Your word of honour! Who are you, my man?”

“I am a Shetlander, sir. I have been brought up to keep my word. Though I was pressed, I have done my duty. It was I, sir, who hauled down the flag of theCleopatrawhen we took her.”

While he was speaking, a midshipman brought him a letter. He opened it, and glancing over the few lines it contained, his eye brightened. I stood watching, resolved not to be defeated.

As soon as he had folded the letter and put it into his pocket, I again stepped up.

“May I go, sir?” I said.

“Well,” he answered, smiling, “you hauled down the Frenchman’s flag. I am to have my reward, and you shall have yours. You may go ashore, but you must be back in three days. All the crew will be required for putting the ship to rights, to take the mainmast out of her and replace it by a new one,” and he ordered one of the clerks to put down my name as having leave.

I found afterwards that the letter I saw him read contained an intimation that he was forthwith to be made a commander.

In a few days the news was received that the great Earl of Chatham had presented our captain and his brother to King George, who had been pleased to knight our captain, and to make Commander Pellew a post-captain.

No one else, that I know of, obtained any honours or rewards, though each man and boy received his share of prize-money, and with that we had no cause to complain.

However, to go back to the moment when the first lieutenant gave me leave. “Thank you, sir! thank you!” I exclaimed, with difficulty stopping myself from tossing up my hat for joy.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I rushed below, and, taking the things I wanted out of my bag, I tumbled into Jerry’s wherry.

The old man pulled as fast as he and his boy could lay their backs to the oars.

“Stop, stop, my lad! wait for me!” he exclaimed as I jumped ashore and was preparing to run to Southsea. “You’ll frighten your wife and send her into ‘high strikes’ if you pounce down upon her as you seem inclined to do. Wait till I go ahead and tell her to be looking out for you. You won’t lose much time, and prevent a great deal of mischief, though I can’t move along quite at the rate of ten knots an hour, as you seem inclined to do.”

I at once saw the wisdom of Jerry’s advice, and waited, though somewhat impatiently, until he and his boy had secured the boat.

“Come along, Will, my lad,” he said at length, stepping ashore; “I’ll show you what my old legs can do,” and off he set.

We soon crossed the High Street, and made our way through the gate leading out of the town on to Southsea Common.

The village of Southsea was but a small, insignificant place in those days. We had not gone far when we caught sight of a person with a wooden leg stumping along at a good rate some way ahead. Although his back was towards us, I at once felt sure that he was Uncle Kelson.

“All right!” cried Jerry, “that’s Mr Kelson. He always carries a press of sail. It couldn’t have been better. I’ll go on and make him heave-to, and just tell him to guess who’s come back; but I don’t think there’s much fear of his getting the ‘high strikes’ even though he was to set eyes on you all of a sudden.”

I brought up for a moment so as to let Jerry get ahead of me.

“Heave-to, cap’en! heave-to! I ain’t a thundering big enemy from whom you’ve any cause to run,” I heard him shouting out. “Just look round, and maybe you’ll see somebody you won’t be sorry to see, I’ve a notion.”

My uncle, hearing Jerry’s voice, turned his head, and instantly catching sight of me, came running along with both his arms outstretched, his countenance beaming all over like a landscape lighted up by sunshine. I was somewhat fearful lest he should fall, but I caught him, and we shook hands for a minute at least, his voice almost choking as he exclaimed, “I am glad! I am glad! Bless my heart, how glad I am! And your wife, Will? You’ll soon make her all to rights. Not that she is ill, but that she’s been pining for you, poor lass; but no wonder: it’s a way the women have. Glad I hadn’t a wife until I was able to live on shore and look after her. Come along! come along!” and he took my arm, almost again falling in his eagerness to get over the ground, which here and there was soft and sandy, and full of holes in other places.

“Please, Mr Kelson, as I was a-telling of your nevvy, it won’t do just to come down on the lass like a thunder-clap, or it may send her over on her beam-ends,” said Jerry as he ranged up alongside, puffing and blowing with his exertions. “Just you stop and talk to him when we get near the house, and let me go ahead and I’ll break the matter gently, like a soft summer shower, so that they’ll be all to rights and ready for him when he comes.”

Jerry, I guessed, wanted to undertake the matter himself, suspecting that my uncle would, notwithstanding his good intentions, blurt out the truth too suddenly.

I therefore answered for him, that we would wait till Jerry had gone to the house and summoned us, though I had to exert no small amount of resolution to stop short of the door when we got in sight of it.

Jerry ran on at first, but went more deliberately as he approached the door, when, knocking, he was admitted.

He must be spinning a tremendous long yarn, I thought, for it seemed to me as if he had kept us half an hour, though I believe it was only two or three minutes, when at length he appeared and beckoned.

“Come along, Will! come along, my boy!” cried my uncle, keeping hold of my arm; but, no longer able to restrain my impatience, I sprang forward and, brushing past old Jerry, rushed into the house.

There was my Margaret, with Aunt Bretta by her side to support her; but she needed no support except my arm. After a little time, though still clinging with her arms round my neck, she allowed me to embrace my good aunt. My uncle soon joined us, and Old Jerry poked his head in at the door, saying with a knowing nod, “All right, I see there’s been no ‘high strikes.’ I shall be one too many if I stop. Good-day, ladies; good-day, friends all. I’ll look in to-morrow, or maybe the next evening; but I shall have plenty of work in the harbour, taking off people to see the prize and the ship which captured her.”

“Stop, Jerry, stop!” cried my uncle; “have a glass of grog before you go?”

“No, thankee, cap’en,” answered Jerry. “I must keep a clear head on my shoulders. If I once takes a taste, maybe I shall want another as I pass the Blue Posteses.”

Uncle Kelson did not press the point, and the old man took his departure.

Of course it required a long time to tell all that had happened to me, but I need not describe those happy days on shore. My dear wife would scarcely allow me for a moment to be out of her sight. She once asked the question, “Must you go back?”

“I have given my word that I would,” I answered. I knew full well what her heart wished, though she had too much regard for my honour even to hint at the possibility of my breaking my word.

Aunt Bretta and Uncle Kelson were of the same way of thinking; but old Jerry, who paid us a visit the second evening according to his promise, looked at the matter in a very different light.

“Now, Will, I’ve been thinking over this here business of yours every day since I first clapped eyes on you, and I’ve made up my mind that as they had no right to press you aboard that ’ere frigate, you have every right to make yourself scarce. I’ve got the whole affair cut and dry. There’s a friend of mine who is as true as steel. He’s got a light cart, and we intend to bundle you in soon after dark, and drive away, maybe to Chichester, and maybe to some country place where you can lie snug till the frigate has sailed, and the hue and cry after you is over.

“It’s all as smooth as oil. There’ll only be one man less aboard, as there would be if a shot was to take your head off; so it can’t make any odds to the captain and officers. And let me tell you, you’ll have a different set over you; for Mr Morris the first lieutenant, has got his promotion, Mr Lake is too badly wounded to allow him to return on board for some time, and the captain is sure to get a better ship; so you don’t know what double-fisted fellows you’ll get in their places.

“Follow my advice, Will; escape from all the tyranny and floggings, for what you can tell, that are in store for you. Run, and be a free man.”

“No, no, Mr Vincent; the advice you give is well meant, but I dare not even ask my husband to do as you propose,” answered Margaret in a firm voice, though she looked very sad as she spoke. “He would not be a happy man if he broke his word, and he has given that word to return. Even I can say, ‘Go back to your duty.’”

“So do I,” said Uncle Kelson, “though, if he had not given his word, I don’t know what I might have advised.”

“We can all pray for him,” said Aunt Bretta, “and I trust that we shall see him again before long, when he is free and can with a clean conscience remain with us.”

“I thank you, Jerry, for your good wishes,” I put in. “It cannot be, you see. I wish I could get away from the ship; but until I am paid off, and properly discharged, though I was pressed, I am bound to remain; so if you care for me, do not say anything more on the subject.”

“Well, well, if it must be, so it must,” answered Jerry with a deep sigh. “Some people’s notions ain’t like other people’s notions, that’s all I’ve got to say; and now I think it’s time for me to be tripping my anchor.”

“No, no, not until you have wetted your whistle,” said Uncle Kelson, beginning to mix a glass of grog.

The old man’s eyes glistened as he resumed his seat, replacing his hat under the chair; and putting his hand out to take the tumbler which my uncle pushed towards him across the table, and sipping it slowly, he looked up and said:

“I forgot to tell you that Sir Edward Pellew, as we must now call him since he got the sword laid across his shoulders by the king, has been appointed to the command of theArethusa, a fine new frigate which will make a name for herself, if I mistake not, as the old one did. You remember her, cap’en, don’t you! It was her they writ the song about,” and he began singing:—

“Come all ye jolly sailors boldWhose hearts are cast in honour’s mould,While English glory I unfold:Huzza! to theArethusa;She is a frigate tight and braveAs ever stemmed the dashing wave,Her men are staunch to their fav’rite launch.And when the foe shall meet our fire,Sooner than strike, we’ll all expireOn board of theArethusa!“’Twas with the spring fleet she went out,The English Channel to cruise about,When four French sail, in show so stout,Bore down on theArethusa.The famedBelle Poulestraight ahead did lie,TheArethusaseemed to fly,Not a sheet or a tack or a brace did she slack,Though the Frenchman laughed and thought it stuff,But they knew not the handful of men how toughOn board of theArethusa!“On deck five hundred men did dance,The stoutest they could find in France;We with two hundred did advance,On board of theArethusa!Our captain hail’d the Frenchman, ‘Ho!’The Frenchman then cried out ‘Hullo!’‘Bear down, d’ye see, to our Admiral’s lee.’‘No, no,’ says the Frenchman; ‘that can’t be.’‘Then I must lug you along with me,’Says the saucyArethusa!“The fight was off the Frenchman’s land.We forced them back upon their strand,For we fought till not a stick would standOf the gallantArethusa.And now we’ve driven the foe ashore,Never to fight with Britons more,Let each fill a glass to his fav’rite lass,A health to our captain and officers true,And all who belong to the jovial crewOn board of theArethusa!”

“Come all ye jolly sailors boldWhose hearts are cast in honour’s mould,While English glory I unfold:Huzza! to theArethusa;She is a frigate tight and braveAs ever stemmed the dashing wave,Her men are staunch to their fav’rite launch.And when the foe shall meet our fire,Sooner than strike, we’ll all expireOn board of theArethusa!“’Twas with the spring fleet she went out,The English Channel to cruise about,When four French sail, in show so stout,Bore down on theArethusa.The famedBelle Poulestraight ahead did lie,TheArethusaseemed to fly,Not a sheet or a tack or a brace did she slack,Though the Frenchman laughed and thought it stuff,But they knew not the handful of men how toughOn board of theArethusa!“On deck five hundred men did dance,The stoutest they could find in France;We with two hundred did advance,On board of theArethusa!Our captain hail’d the Frenchman, ‘Ho!’The Frenchman then cried out ‘Hullo!’‘Bear down, d’ye see, to our Admiral’s lee.’‘No, no,’ says the Frenchman; ‘that can’t be.’‘Then I must lug you along with me,’Says the saucyArethusa!“The fight was off the Frenchman’s land.We forced them back upon their strand,For we fought till not a stick would standOf the gallantArethusa.And now we’ve driven the foe ashore,Never to fight with Britons more,Let each fill a glass to his fav’rite lass,A health to our captain and officers true,And all who belong to the jovial crewOn board of theArethusa!”

“I mind,” continued Jerry after another sip at his grog, “that she carried thirty-two guns, and was commanded by Captain Marshall. It was in the year 1778, just before the last war broke out. We hadn’t come to loggerheads with the mounseers, though we knew pretty well that it wouldn’t be long before we were that. We and two other frigates sailed down Channel with a fleet of twenty sail of the line under Admiral Keppel.

“When off the Lizard, on the 17th of June, we made out two frigates and a schooner to the southward. On seeing them, and guessing that they were French, the Admiral ordered us and theMilfordto go in chase. The strangers separated, theMilfordfrigate andHector, a seventy-four, following the other ship, which turned out to be theLicorne, and took her; while theAlbertcutter pursued the schooner, and captured her by boarding after a sharp struggle. We meantime alone followed the other stranger, which was the French forty gun frigateBelle Poule.

“On getting within hailing distance, our captain, in the politest manner possible, invited the French captain to sail back with him to the English fleet.

“‘No, no,’ answered the French skipper, ‘that it cannot be, seeing I am bound elsewhere.’

“‘Then, mounseer, I must obey orders and make you come with me,’ says our captain just as politely as before, and without further ado he ordered the crew of the foremost main-deck gun to fire a shot across the French ship’s bows. It was the first shot fired during the war. We in return got the Frenchman’s whole broadside crashing aboard us.

“We then began pounding away at each other as close as we could get. It seemed wonderful to me that we were not both of us blown out of the water. Our men were falling pretty thickly, some killed and many more wounded, while our sails and rigging were getting much cut up.

“You see the enemy had twenty guns on a side to our sixteen, but we tossed ours in and out so sharply that we made up for the difference. For two mortal hours we kept blazing away, getting almost as much as we gave, till scarcely a stick could stand aboard us; but our captain was not the man to give in, and while he could he kept at it. At last, our rigging and canvas being cut to pieces, and our masts ready to fall, so that we could not make sail, theBelle Poulehaving had enough of it, shot ahead, and succeeded in getting under the land where we were unable to follow her.

“The song says that we drove her ashore; but though we did no exactly do that, we knocked her well about, and she had forty-eight men and officers killed and fifty wounded. As it was, as I have said, the first action in the old war, it was more talked about than many others. We lost our captain, not from his being killed, but from his getting a bigger ship, and Captain Everitt was appointed in his stead.

“The oldArethusa, after this, continued a Channel cruiser. We had pretty sharp work at different times, chasing the enemy, and capturing their merchantmen, and cutting-out vessels from their harbours; but we had no action like the one the song was wrote about.

“At last, in the March of the next year, when some fifty leagues or more off Brest, we made out a French frigate inshore of us. Instead of standing bravely out to fight the saucyArethusa, she squared away her yards and ran for that port. We made all sail in chase, hoping to come up with her before she could get into harbour. We were gaining on her, and were expecting that we should have another fight like that with theBelle Poule, when, as we came in sight of the outer roads of Brest, what should we see but a thumping seventy-four, which, guessing what we were, slipping her cable, stood out under all sail to catch us.

“We might have tackled the seventy-four alone, with a good breeze; but we well knew that if we did not up stick and cut, we should either be knocked to pieces or be sent to the bottom; so our captain, as in duty bound, ordered us to brace up the yards and try to make the best of our way out of danger. We might have done so had there been a strong breeze blowing, but we could not beat the ship off shore as fast as we wanted.

“Night came down upon us, and a very dark night it was. We could not see the land, but we knew it was under our lee, when presently thump goes the ship ashore. Our captain did his best to get her off, but all our attempts were of no use. The saucyArethusawas hard and fast on the rocks.

“The word was given to lower the boats. I was one of the first cutter’s crew. We had got her into the water, and the master, as good a seaman as ever stepped, came with us, and two young midshipmites.

“‘We’ll not be made prisoners if we can help it, lads,’ said the master. ‘Here, lower down these two casks of bread, and this breaker of water.’

“We had no time to get more, and we hoped the other boats would follow our example, but they would have to be sharp about it. We got round from under the lee of the ship, against which the surf was already breaking heavily, and pulled away to the windward out to sea. You may be sure we pulled as men do who are pulling for their lives and liberty. If we had been a minute later, we shouldn’t have done it. No other boats that we could see followed us. Next morning we were twenty miles off shore.

“We felt very downcast at the thoughts that we had lost our little frigate, but were thankful to have got away from a French prison. We learned afterwards that the captain, fearing for the lives of his people, sent the other boats at once to the shore, and establishing a communication, managed to land the whole crew, who were forthwith made prisoners. It was fortunate that we had the biscuit and water, or we should have been starved to death; for it was a week or more before we fell in with an English homeward-bound West Indiaman, when we had not a gill of liquid left, and not a biscuit a-piece. I learned the value of water at that time, but I have always held to the opinion that a little good rum mixed with it adds greatly to its taste,” and Jerry winked at my uncle with one eye, and with the other looked at his tumbler, which was empty.

Uncle Kelson mixed him another glass.

“Ladies both,” he said, looking round at my aunt and Margaret, “here’s to your health, and may Will be with you a free man before many months are over. Maybe you haven’t heard of the ghost we had on board the oldCornwall, some years before the time I am speaking of? If you haven’t, I’ll tell you about it. Did you ever have a ghost aboard any ship you sailed in, cap’en? Maybe not. They don’t seem to show themselves now-a-days, as they used to do.

“Dick Carcass was the boatswain of the oldCornwallwhen I served aboard her. He was a tall spare man with high shoulders and a peculiar walk, so that it was impossible to mistake him meet him where you might. He was also a prime seaman, and had a mouth that could whistle the winds out of conceit. If he did use a rope’s-end on the backs of the boys sometimes, it was all for their own good. We were bound out one winter time to Halifax, Nova Scotia. It isn’t the pleasantest time of the year to be sailing across the North Atlantic. We had had a pretty long passage, with westerly gales, which kept all hands employed. The boatswain was seldom off deck, and a rough life he had of it.

“At last, what with the hard work he had to do, and having been in hospital too before we sailed, he fell sick, and one night the doctor came out of his cabin and told us he was dead. Now our captain was a kind-hearted man; and as he expected to be in port in two or three days, instead of sewing the boatswain up in a hammock and lowering him overboard, he gave notice that he should keep him to give him decent Christian burial on shore, and let the parson pray over him, for, d’ye see, we had none aboard. To pay him every respect, a sentry was placed at the door of his cabin in the cockpit. He had been dead three or four days, and we had expected to get into port in two or three at the furthest; so as the wind continued foul, and might hold in the same quarter a week longer, the captain, thinking the bo’sun wouldn’t keep much longer, at last determined to have him buried the next morning. That night I had just gone below, and was passing close to the sentry, when he asked me if I couldn’t make his lantern burn brighter. He was a chum of mine, d’ye see. I took it down from the hook where it was hanging, and was trying to snuff it, when all of a sudden the door of Mr Carcass’s cabin opened with a bang like a clap of thunder, and, as I’m a living man, I heard the bo’sun’s voice, for you may be sure I knew it well, shout out:—

“‘Sentry, give us a light, will ye!’

“Somehow or other—maybe I nipped the wick too hard—the candle went out, and down fell the lantern. I did not stop to pick it up, nor did the sentry who got the start of me, and off we set, scampering away like rats with a terrier at their tails, till we gained the upper step of the cockpit ladder. We then stopped and listened. There were steps thundering along the deck. They came to the very foot of the ladder. Presently we heard something mounting them slowly. The sentry moved on. So did I, but looking round I saw as surely as I sit here, the head of old Dick Carcass’s ghost rising slowly above the deck.

“We did not stop to see more of him, but walked away for’ard. Again we stopped, when there he was, standing on the deck—eight feet high he looked at least—rubbing his eyes, which glared out at us like balls of fire.

“We made for the fore-ladder, and there thought to get out of its way by moving aft as fast as our legs could carry us. Presently, as I looked over my shoulder, I saw the ghost come up the ladder on to the forecastle. The men there saw him too, for they scuttled away on either side, and left him to walk alone. For five minutes or more he kept pacing up and down the deck, just as he was accustomed to do when he was alive. By this time the men were crowding aft, the sentry among them, when the lieutenant of the watch, thinking maybe there was going to be a mutiny, or something of that sort, sings out and axes what we were about.

“‘Sir,’ answers the sentry, who was bold enough now; ‘there’s the ghost of Mr Carcass a walking the fo’c’stle.’

“‘The ghost of Mr Carcass be hanged! he is quiet enough in his cabin, poor man. What are all you fools thinking about?’ says the lieutenant. ‘Be off for’ard with you.’

“‘He is there, sir! he is there! It is the bo’sun’s ghost,’ we all sung out, one after the other, none of us feeling inclined to go near him.

“‘Blockheads!’ cried the lieutenant, beginning to get angry.

“‘It is him, sir; it is him,’ cried others. ‘He’s got on the hat and monkey jacket he always wears.’

“The lieutenant now became very angry, and ordering us out of the way, boldly steps forward. When, however, he gets abreast of the barge, he stops, for there he sees as clearly as we did the bo’sun’s tall figure pacing the deck, with his hands behind his back, looking for all the world just as he had done when he was alive.

“Now the lieutenant was as brave a man as ever stepped, but he did not like it, that was clear; still he felt that go on he must, and so on he went until he got up to the foremast, and then he sings out slowly, as if his words did not come up readily to his mouth:—

“‘Mr Car-car-car-cass, is that you?’

“‘Sir!’ said the ghost, turning round and coming aft.

“‘Mr Car-car-car-cass, is that you?’ again sings out the lieutenant.

“‘Sir!’ answers the boatswain, and he came nearer.

“The lieutenant stepped back, so did we, all the whole watch tumbling over on each other. Still facing for’ard, the gallant lieutenant kept retreating, and the ghost kept coming on slowly, as ghosts always do, I’m told, though I can’t say as I’ve had much experience with those sort of gentry. At last the ghost sings out:—

“‘Pardon me, Mr Pringle, what’s the matter? have all the people gone mad?’

“‘Who are you?’ asked the lieutenant.

“‘I am Richard Carcass, bo’sun of this here ship, to the best of my knowledge, and was never anybody else, sir.’

“‘What! ain’t you dead?’ says the lieutenant.

“‘Not that I knows on,’ answers the ghost. ‘I was alive when it struck eight bells in the middle watch, and its now only just gone two. I take it it is the morning watch, for I heard it strike just before that stupid sentry put out his light, and for some reason or other I couldn’t make out, took to his heels.’

“‘Why, the doctor said you were dead,’ says the lieutenant.

“‘The doctor, then, doesn’t know a dead bo’sun from a live one,’ answered Mr Carcass.

“‘Well, I wish you’d let him see you, and hear what he’s got to say on the subject;’ and he ordered the midshipman of the watch to call the doctor, who came on deck, grumbling not a little at being roused out from his berth. When he saw the bo’sun he seemed mighty pleased, and taking him by the hand told us all that he was as alive as ever he was, and advised him to turn in again and get some sleep, as the night was cold, and he was on the sick list.

“Well, ladies, that was the only ghost I ever saw. He was not dead either, but had been in a sort of trance, and when he heard two bells strike, not knowing how many days had passed since he had gone to sleep, he called for a light, but not getting it, he dressed in the dark and came on deck, thinking he ought to be there.”

Jerry spun other yarns before he took his leave. He was once, he declared, on board a trader bound out from Ireland to the West Indies with butter and cheese, “TheJane and Mary, that was her name,” he continued. “We were off the coast of Saint Domingo, almost becalmed, when we made out a couple of suspicious—looking craft sweeping off towards us. That they were pirates we had no doubt. At that time those sort of gentry used to cut the throats of every man on board if there was the slightest resistance.

“Our skipper, Captain Dillon, was a determined fellow, and had proved himself a good seaman during the passage.

“‘Lads,’ he sang out, ‘do you wish to be taken and hove overboard to feed the sharks, or will you try to save the ship if those scoundrels come up to us? I’ll promise you we’ll beat them if they venture aboard.’

“We all answered that we were ready to stick by him, for I believe there was not one of us that did not think we should be dead men before the day was an hour older. The mates promised also to fight to the last.

“‘Be smart then, my lads, get up some of the cargo from the hold.’ We soon had a dozen butter casks hoisted up, knocked in their ends, and payed the decks, and sides, and ropes, and every part of the ship over with the butter. We chucked our shoes below, and got the cutlasses, boarding pikes, and pistols ready. In a few minutes the deck was so slippery, that a man, unless without his shoes, could not stand upon it. We were all ready, with our cutlasses at our sides and the pikes handy, to give the scoundrels a warm reception. Meantime theJane and Marydid her best, as far as the breeze would help her, to keep moving through the water.

“The pirates crept up, and kept firing away at us, one on one quarter and one on the other.

“We answered them with the few guns we carried, though each of them had nearly twice as many as we had, while their decks were crowded with men. Presently they ranged up alongside, and both boarded together, a score or more villainous-looking rascals leaping down on our decks, expecting to gain an easy victory; but they never made a greater mistake in their lives, and it was the last most of them had the chance of making. The moment their feet touched our deck, over they fell flat on their faces, while we with our cutlasses, rushing in among them, killed every mother’s son of their number. Others following, shouting, shrieking, and swearing, met the same fate; when the rest of the pirates, seeing what was happening, though not knowing the cause, but fancying, I suppose, that we had bewitched them, sheered off, and the breeze freshening we stood away, leaving the two feluccas far astern. Forty men lay dead on our decks, and not one of us was hurt.

“‘Heave the carcases overboard, and swab up the decks,’ cried our skipper, as coolly as if nothing had happened.

“We had a pretty job to clean the ship afterwards, but we didn’t mind the trouble, seeing that we had saved our lives, and the skipper was well content to lose the dozen casks of batter which had served us so good a turn.

“That skipper of ours had no small amount of humour in his composition, though it was somewhat of a grim character. Before we hove the bodies overboard, he ordered us to cut off the heads of those who had fallen, forty in number, and to pickle them in the empty butter casks, lest, as he said, his account of the transaction might be disbelieved by the good people of Jamaica.

“We arrived safely in Kingston harbour, where the merchants and a lot of other persons came on board. Many of our visitors, when they heard the skipper describe the way we had beaten off the pirates, looked incredulous.

“‘Seeing is believing,’ says he, and he ordered the casks which had been kept on deck to be opened. It was mightily amusing to watch the way our visitors looked at each other, when our skipper forthwith produced the gory heads, among which was that of the captain of one of the piratical craft and that of the first mate of the other.

“Some of them started back with horror, as well they might, for the heads looked dreadful enough as they were pulled out in succession.

“‘There’s the whole score,’ says the skipper, as we arranged them along each side of the quarter-deck. ‘Now, gentlemen, what have you got to say about my veracity?’

“After that, you may be sure the captain’s word was never doubted. The heads were then hove overboard, and it was said that Old Tom, the big shark which used to cruise about between Port Royal and Kingston, got the best part of them for his supper. I’m pretty sure he did, because for many a day after that he was not seen, and some thought he had died of indigestion by swallowing those pirates’ heads. Howsomdever, he wasn’t dead after all, as poor Bob Rattan, an old messmate of mine, found out to his cost. Just about two months had gone by, and Bob one evening was trying to swim from his ship to the shore, when Old Tom caught, him by the leg and hauled him to the bottom. His head was washed ashore three days afterwards, bitten clean off, a certain proof that Old Tom had swallowed the pirates’ heads, and not finding them agree with him, had left poor Bob’s alone.

“Taking in a cargo of sugar we sailed homewards; but I can tell you, till we were well clear of the West Indies we didn’t feel comfortable, lest we should fall in again with the pirates, when, as we had no butter aboard to grease our decks, the chances were, we knew, that in revenge they would have cut all our throats and sent the ship to the bottom.

“You see, ladies, that a man may go through no end of dangers, and yet come scot free out of them. So I hope will our friend here, and have many a yarn to spin, and that I may be present to hear them, although I don’t think he’ll beat mine; and now, as it’s getting late, I’ll wish you good evening;” and Jerry, taking his hat from under the chair, shook hands with all round.

“You won’t take my advice then, Will?” he whispered, as he came to me. “Well, well, it’s a pity. Good-night, lad, good-night, I’ll see you aboard theNymph;” and he hurried away across the common towards the beach where he had left his boat, intending to pass the night under her, as was his general custom in the summer.

Back to IndexNext