"Marmaduke Merry" (continued 4)

“You will come and see us very often, Mr Merry,” she exclaimed in a very foreign accent, though her phraseology was pretty correct. “We want to show how much we love you, and we make nice cake for you, and many other good things.”

The elder ladies were more demonstrative, and wanted to kiss me, which I thought very derogatory to my dignity.

I shook hands warmly with them all round, and as I began with Miss Essa, I thought it incumbent on me to finish off with her:

The townspeople were very civil as we made our way down to the boats. Indeed, they did not seem to mind at all what had happened. It was all the same to them which flag flew over the forts. The English had gained a character for justice and honesty, and they were inclined to look upon us as likely to prove good customers, and were, in fact, very glad to see us. They, indeed, probably thought that it was a pity any opposition whatever should have been offered to our entrance. Our work was not entirely accomplished. There was still a fort of some strength, a few miles from the town. A party of marines and bluejackets was marched out to take it, which they very speedily did, as the commandant offered no resistance, but, hearing that his chief had capitulated, yielded on being summoned. Thus, by noon, the whole of a rich and fertile island, containing forty-five thousand inhabitants, and well fortified, was in our possession, while the whole force we could muster among the four frigates was twelve hundred men. With these we had to man our prizes, to garrison the forts, to protect the country, and to keep the town in order.

Captain Brisbane was, I must say, a host in himself. He was a fine tall man, with very popular manners; and though he showed that he would not allow tricks to be played, he ingratiated himself wonderfully with all classes. He took great pains to conceal from the Dutch the paucity of our numbers, and hinted that as long as the inhabitants behaved themselves he would keep his troops on board instead of quartering them on the town. These troops were represented by the idlers of the different ships and occasionally seamen, dressed up in red coats and made to parade the deck. He formed also a bodyguard of all the marines who could ride, and with them at his heels he made a point of galloping about the country and visiting the outposts. He never appeared abroad without being accompanied by them. They were known as Captain Brisbane’s horse-marines. Though horse-marines are often spoken of, it was the only time I ever saw such a body either on shore or afloat. We had a very active time of it, every one doing double work, and endeavouring to make it appear as if we had double our real numbers. The lieutenants used to put on the marine officers’ undress uniforms and all would go on shore together. Fitzgerald unconsciously very nearly betrayed the trick, for his remarkable features were not easily forgotten, and on the first day he appeared in his military character, we saw the Dutchmen, as well as some ladies, eyeing him narrowly. They could not conceive it possible two such ugly fellows should be found in the same squadron.

Fortunately Mr Bryan was with us, and having plenty of presence of mind, he began to talk about Fitzgerald’s naval brother who remained on board.

Captain Collyer, however, thought it prudent to prohibit him from again appearing in a military character on shore. Mr Fitzgerald could not understand this, as he was not at all aware of the peculiarity of his own physiognomy, and declared that he was very hardly treated.

I was very anxious to get on shore, that I might pay my promised visit to Essa von Fraulich and her relatives. As bigger men were wanted on shore, and as the midshipmen were found capable of performing various duties in the ship, Grey and I and others were, much to our disappointment, compelled to stay on board. Mr Johnson also remained on board.

“I take it as an especial compliment,” he observed. “The fact is, you see, Mr Merry, that I am worth five or six men at least in the ship, and, in appearance at least, little more than one out of it, and so I am doomed to remain, while others are enjoying themselves on terra firma.”

Chapter Eight.

In consequence of so many of the officers being on shore, the boatswain had charge of a watch. He trod the deck with considerable dignity, and a stranger coming on board would undoubtedly have taken him for the captain.

I was in his watch, and as there was nothing to do, when it occurred at night, except to see that the sentries were on the look-out, that the anchors were not dragging, or the ship on fire, I always got him into conversation; and one evening, Grey and Spellman having joined us, we begged him to go on with the account of his adventures at the North Pole, of which for a long time we had heard nothing.

“I would oblige you with all my heart, young gentlemen, if I could but recollect where I left off,” he answered, in a well-pleased tone. “Let me see. Was I living on the top of an iceberg, or dancing reels with polar bears, or—”

“No, Mr Johnson, you had just found your old shipmates, and were living quietly with them in their winter quarters, waiting for a ship to take you off.”

“So I was—ah—well—” said the boatswain. “As I was telling you, when I last broke off in my most veracious narrative, after we had talked on for a week, our tongues began to get somewhat tired, and we then remembered that it would be necessary to make preparations for our departure from this somewhat inhospitable shore, for as to a vessel touching there to take us off, that event was not likely to occur. I found that my companions had commenced building a boat, but as they did not understand carpentering as I did, it was fortunate for them that I arrived in time to lend them a hand, or they would infallibly have gone to the bottom as soon as they had ventured out on the foaming waves of the Polar Sea. June was advancing, and the ice began to move perceptibly at a distance from the shore; and as the icebergs knocked and fell against each other, the crash was truly awful. I can only liken it to what we might suppose produced by a set of monster ninepins tumbled about by a party of gigantic Dutchmen. I must relate one more event, which served to convince my companions of the perfect correctness of my statements. One night, as I was retiring to rest, I heard footsteps approaching our hut, and, looking out, I saw an immense white bear, sniffing up the air as if he smelt something he fancied for supper. Rousing my companions, who had already turned in, I seized my gun, with the intention of knocking him on the head, when, as he turned his face, I recognised an expression I had met before. On his nearer approach I saw that he had but one eye, and I felt convinced that he was the identical bear I had knocked over close to the Pole and left for dead, with a steak out of his rump. He made towards me, grinding his teeth and flashing his one eye terrifically, with thoughts of vengeance; but I retreated backwards, and had just time to slam the door in his face, jamming in one of his paws, before he could grasp me in his deadly embrace. Thus he was caught in a trap, but his struggles to free himself were so tremendous that I thought he would have carried away the whole hut with him, but my friends coming to my aid, we made fast a strong rope round the lower joint of his paw and secured it to a stout piece of timber which formed part of the foundation of the structure. We then opened the door a little, when he, of course, put in the other paw, which we secured in the same way, and thus had him fast. At first he was very furious and growled tremendously, but by giving him a piece of roasted meat to suck at the end of a ramrod, we tamed him by degrees, and he must have seen that we had no evil intentions towards him. By slacking the ropes we were in a short time able to shut the door, keeping him outside. We then went to sleep, and he only now and then disturbed us by an angry growl as he felt the ropes cutting his wrists.

“By a judicious system of starvation, and by gently administering food, we so tamed him that we were able to examine him for a further verification of my suspicions. Had my companions before entertained any doubts as to the truth of my story, all such vanished when they discovered that, though the wound had perfectly closed where I had cut out the steak, the cicatrice was there, and skin perfectly denuded of hair. By our pursuing the system I have described for some time, Bruin became so tame that he would follow us about like a dog, while he exhibited his affection by every possible means. I shall never forget the grief he exhibited when he saw us working away at our boat and making preparations for our departure. Tears fell from his eyes and trickled down his shaggy breast, his bosom heaved with sighs, and he hung his paws as he stood before us, watching our proceedings in the most sentimental manner.

“When at length all was ready to make sail, we had to secure him, as we had before done, to the beam in our hut, lest he should scramble into our boat and insist on accompanying us. We knew that with his usual sagacity he could very easily release himself after we were gone. We then hurried on board, shoved off, and stood out to sea. We soon found that we had numberless dangers to encounter. Sometimes huge whales rose up and nearly capsized us, and there was always a terrible risk of running foul of icebergs. One day, indeed, there was a thick fog, and we were standing on with a fair breeze, when the bow of the boat came with such terrific impetus against one that she slid right up it for thirty feet at least, and did not stop till she sank into a deep hollow from which it seemed impossible to extricate her. There we were, like three young birds in a nest, floating about at the mercy of the winds and waves. My companions were in despair, but I cheered their spirits by assuring them that all would come right at last, as I knew it would, though, as it turned out, not in the way I expected.

“Leaving my companions to cut a channel in the ice to launch our boat, I ascended to a higher part of the berg to look out for a sail, hoping that some whaler might be in the neighbourhood. While there I heard a cry of despair, and to my dismay I beheld our boat rapidly gliding down the iceberg. She reached the water in safety, and with canvas set, which it was, I own, lubberly to have allowed, she sailed off before the wind, leaving us on our treacherous island.

“Fortunately my companions had taken the fish-hooks and other things out of the boat to lighten her or we might have perished; but we managed with the hooks to catch an abundance of fish to supply our wants. We had to eat them raw, but that was nothing. Why, once upon a time, I paid a visit to one of the South Sea Islands, where the king, queen, and all the court devour live fish; and, what is more, they are taught when brought up to table to jump down the throats of their majesties of their own accord, so as to give them as little trouble as possible. It is one of the strongest marks of devotion with which I ever met.

“When my companions saw the boat sailing away, they were in despair, and I had great difficulty in preventing them from throwing themselves into the sea, and in restoring their spirits. Certainly, an iceberg is not the pleasantest spot for a location. At length, one day, I saw something like a ship’s longboat in the distance. It approached the iceberg in the most mysterious manner. We watched it eagerly. It was not a boat after all, but a log of timber, and—you need not believe me if you’d rather not, but it’s a fact—there was our pet bear Bruin towing the timber at the rate of six knots an hour. I hurried down to the bottom of the berg to receive him. Poor fellow! he was so tired with his exertions that he could scarcely climb up out of the water, and when, to exhibit his affection, he attempted to embrace us, he fell forward on all fours, and very nearly rolled over into the sea again. As we sat by his side, all he had strength to do was to lick our hands and moan mournfully. Talk of the affection of a dog! I should think that was as strong a mark of affection and sagacity as any dog could give. Let others beat it if they can. Having loosed Bruin from the ropes and secured the log of timber, which was the one, it must be understood, to which we had secured him in the hut, and which he had dragged out with main force, we set to work to catch him a dinner of fish. This was the least we could do, and we were so fortunate in our sport that we were able to give him an abundant meal. He enjoyed it much, and quickly revived. To show his gratitude he soon began to play off his usual extraordinary antics for our amusement, such as dancing a jig, standing on his head, or rolling himself up into a ball. Suddenly it struck me that he had brought the log of timber to enable us to escape from our perilous situation. I consulted with my companions, and they agreed with me that if we harnessed Bruin to the log, he would undoubtedly tow us to a place of safety. We made signs to him, and he evidently understood our purpose, for he allowed the ropes to be thrown over his shoulders and secured to the log of timber, and when we had placed our stores on it and taken our seats, he slipped gently into the water, and, I holding the reins, off he bravely swam with his snout to the southward. It was far from agreeable work, for our feet were wet, and we were obliged to sit perfectly quiet; but still it was better than remaining on the iceberg, and we contrived to pass our time tolerably well with smoking, eating, and catching fish. The seas in those latitudes abound in fish, so that we were able to feed poor Bruin abundantly on them, or he would never have performed the hard work he had got through.

“At last a sail hove in sight, towards which I guided Bruin. I believe otherwise he would have carried us safely to some southern coast, towards which he was steering. When the people in the vessel first saw us they would not believe that we were human beings, though, after we had hailed pretty lustily in English, they hove their craft to, and told us to come on board.

“Accordingly, securing the timber astern, we three climbed up the side, followed by Bruin, and were not a little amused by hearing the mate tell the captain, who was ill in his cabin, that there were four men just picked up. He had taken the bear for a human being—there was so little difference in appearance between any of us. Ha, ha, ha! It was some time, too, before the mistake was discovered. The mate was disappointed, for they were short-handed, and he fancied Bruin would prove a fine heavy-sterned fellow for pulling and hauling. So he did when I taught him, and he would fist the end of a rope, and run the topsails up the masts with as much ease as half a dozen of the crew could together. The vessel was the Highland Lass, bound from Halifax to Greenock, where we arrived in three weeks in perfect health and spirits. One of my companions, James Hoxton, took care of honest Bruin, who, not being accustomed to a civilised country, would have been rather adrift by himself, and would scarcely have been treated as a distinguished foreigner. Hoxton carried him about the country as a sight, and used to give an account of our adventures, which very much astonished all the people who heard them. Bruin liked the amusement, for he was fond of travelling; but I was very sorry to part with him, for he had become the most amiable and civilised of bears, though on our first introduction to each other, I should not have supposed that such would ever have been the case.”

“Is that all, every bit of it, true, Mr Johnson?” asked Spellman, with mouth agape.

“Did you ever see a polar bear, Mr Spellman?” demanded the boatswain in an offended tone. “Yes,” answered Spellman, “once, at a show.”

“Then let me ask, young gentleman, why you should have any doubts as to the truth of my narrative?” said Mr Johnson, drawing himself up and casting an indignant glance at the midshipman.

“Let me tell you that a thousand things have occurred to me, a hundred thousand times more wonderful than that, during every part of my life; and some day, if you catch me in the humour for talking, perhaps I will tell you about them. I’ve only time just now to tell you of another somewhat strange adventure which befell me.

“Not finding a ship at Glasgow to suit my fancy, I went to Liverpool, where I shipped on board a South Sea whaler, called the Diddleus. She was a fine craft, measuring full six hundred tons. I won’t tell you just now some of the curious events which occurred before we reached the South Seas. Our success was not very satisfactory. We met with various accidents, and among others we lost our first mate, who was killed by a blow from a white whale’s tail in a flurry, and as the captain had the discernment to perceive that there was not a man on board equal to me, he appointed me to the vacant berth. I little thought how soon I should get a step higher. The captain, poor fellow, was enormously fat, and as he was one day looking into the copper to watch how the blubber was boiling, his foot slipped on the greasy deck, and in he fell head foremost. No one missed him at the moment, and he was stirred up and turned into oil before any one knew what had happened. The accident indeed was only discovered by our finding his buttons and the nails of his shoes at the bottom of the copper. In consequence of this sad catastrophe, I became master of the good ship Diddleus. Either through my judgment, or good luck, it does not become me to say which, we very soon began to fill our casks at a rapid rate.

“We had, of course, always our boats ready to go in chase of a fish at a moment’s notice. One day two of them were away, and had killed, dead to windward of us, a large whale, towards which I was endeavouring to beat up, when the look-out man from the crow’s nest, a sharp-sighted fellow, Jerry Wilkins by name, hailed the deck to say that there was land in sight on our lee bow. I knew very well that there wasn’t, and couldn’t be, but when I went aloft and looked out myself, I was dumbfoundered, for there I saw a dark long island, with what I took for a number of trees growing on it like weeping willows. Presently the island began to grow larger and larger, and to extend all round the horizon to leeward. I immediately ordered the lead to be hove, expecting to find that some current or other had been sweeping us towards some unknown island not down in the charts, but to the surprise of all of us there was no bottom. I now cracked on all sail I could set, to beat out of the bay, as it seemed to be, but the wind was so light that we made but little way, and as I looked out I saw the line gradually encircling us more and more, so that I must own I was altogether puzzled to know what it was.

“The whale and the boats were now about a mile off, when suddenly the island seemed to rise close to them, forming a considerable elevation. While we were watching what next would happen, the boats cast off their tow lines, and pulled like mad towards us. They had good reason to pull hard, I can assure you, for one end of what we took to be the island rose right out of the water, full fifty feet at least, and quickly approaching the whale, the mighty fish disappeared under it, and immediately the elevation sank to its former level. Directly after this, one of the crew said he saw a large fire at the end of the island, but when I took my glass, I ascertained that it was nothing more nor less than an immense eye. To give an idea of its size, I may state, with due care not to exaggerate, that I saw fish, of the size of full grown cod, swimming about in the lower lid. A short examination convinced me that what I saw was the head of some mighty marine monster, nothing more nor less than the great sea-serpent, and that the elevation I had seen was his upper jaw. The crews of the boats confirmed the opinion when they came on board, for they stated that when they were close to what they believed was the end of a coral island, they saw it open slowly, while formidable rows of teeth, every one of the size of a heavy gun, and a tongue twice as large as a whale appeared. When they saw this they thought it time to cut and run; nor could I blame them, for had they not, they would have been swallowed with the whale.

“Some slight idea may be formed of the size of the monster from its having swallowed a white sperm whale whole, with half a dozen harpoons in her, and yet it did not even blink its eyes. I confess that I did not like the position we were in, for, as I had no doubt that it must possess a very considerable appetite, I thought it just possible that it might take it into its head to swallow us up also. To my great satisfaction, however, the monster remained stationary—probably it found the harpoons in the whale’s back rather indigestible.

“I also considered that, without any vicious intention, should it take it into its head to be frisky, it might do us considerable damage.

“After consulting with my mates, it was agreed that at all events we should, if possible, avoid the jaws of the monster. We accordingly steered for the point where we believed its tail was to be found, but after standing on for an hour or more we appeared to be no nearer it than we were when we were within a mile of its head. Not only was this the case, but there could be little doubt that it was curling its tail round so as completely to encircle us.

“You, I dare say, have all heard of the dreadful passage between Sicily and the coast of Italy. On one side there are some frightful rocks, over which the sea roars like thunder. They are called the rocks of Scylla, and if a ship gets on them she is dashed to pieces in a quarter less than no time. On the other side is the awful whirlpool of Charybdis, which draws ships from miles towards it, and sucks them under the water like straws; so I’ve heard say, but, as I’ve not seen it done, I can’t vouch for the truth of the story. If you keep on one side you’ve a chance of being cast away on the rocks; if on the other, of being sucked down by the whirlpool. We were now much in the same condition. If we stood on too long on one tack, we ran a risk of sailing down the serpent’s mouth; if on the other, of getting an ugly slap with his tail—supposing that he had got a tail anywhere in the distance to slap us with.

“As I swept the horizon with my glass, his monstrous body appeared on every side of us, except dead to windward, where there was a clear opening, towards which point we were doing our best to beat up. Even that small space appeared to be narrowing. I watched it with no little anxiety—so did the mate, and so did Jerry Wilkins. Jerry was the first to discover that the serpent had a tail.

“‘I see it—I see it,’ sang out Jerry. ‘For all the world like the Falls of Niagara dancing a hornpipe.’

“It was a fact. There was no doubt of that; and what did the monster do but finish by clapping his tail into his mouth, and then he lay just like a big codfish on a fishmonger’s stall. It was a fashion we concluded he had when he wished to bask in the sun, but a very inconvenient one to us just then.

“We were, indeed, in a pretty fix, for we could not tell how long he might take to sleep; judging by his size, a year or so would have sufficed merely for a morning’s nap, and we might all be starved before we could hope to get free. We were in a complete lake, do ye see, and the Diddleus was like a child’s toy floating in the middle of it. It made us feel very small, I can assure you. I considered that the best thing we could do, under the circumstances, would be to heave-to near his head, so that, should he in his sleep let his tail slip from between his teeth, we might have time to beat round his jaws.

“When, however, we got near his head, the crew were so frightened with its terrific appearance, that I saw that there would be a regular mutiny, or that in their terror they would all be jumping overboard, if I did not bear up again pretty quickly.

“We had an old fellow on board, Joe Hobson by name, who was considered an oracle by the crew, and he added to their fears by telling them that he had often heard of these big sea-serpents before, and that, as they usually slept a dozen years or so on a stretch, we should be certainly starved before we could get out. I had, however, no fear about starving, because I knew we could catch fish enough for our support, and I had a plan by which I hoped, if he did sleep on, we might escape. To occupy the time I ran down alongside the head and shoulders, and then beat up again round by the tail end, and this survey, though we had a strong breeze, occupied fully three days.

“I now resolved to put into execution my plan, which was simply to cut a channel for the ship right through the serpent’s back. I considered that one deep enough to float the ship would be like a mere scratch on the skin to him, and would not wake him. I took, however, a precaution few would have thought of. The surgeon had a cask of laudanum, so, lowering it into a boat, with a few brave fellows as volunteers, we pulled right up to the serpent’s mouth. I had a line fast to the bung. Watching our opportunity, when the serpent lifted his jaws a little, we let the cask float into his mouth. I then pulled the line—the bung came out, and the laudanum, of course, ran down his throat.

“Now, I do not mean to say that under ordinary circumstances that quantity could have had any effect on so large a beast, for there was only a hogshead of it; but the doctor observed he placed some hopes of the opiate working from the creature being totally unaccustomed to such a dose.

“I had reason to think that it took immediate effect, for before an hour had elapsed, he snored so loudly that we could scarcely hear ourselves speak, though we were fully a mile distant from his head. I now made sail for the middle of his body, where I judged that there would be more fat and less sense of feeling. It took us a day to reach the spot; then heaving the ship to, we lowered the boats to land on the serpent’s back. It was, I assure you, nervous work at first, and we had no little difficulty in climbing up his sides, which were uncommonly slippery; but we succeeded at last, and forthwith set to work with knives and saws to cut into his back. At first we made but little progress, in consequence of the barnacles, which covered his skin to the depth of some feet, but when we got fairly through the skin we found to our great joy that there was as good blubber as we had ever cut out of a fat whale. We, therefore, made up our fires, and as we cut out the flesh we sent it on board to be boiled. So hard did we work, that in ten days we had cut a channel deep enough to admit the ship, and had besides got a full cargo of the finest oil that had ever been seen.

“We accordingly hoisted in the boats, made all sail, and ran smack on to the very centre of the serpent’s back. We had, however, not got quite over when, our keel tickling him, I suppose, he awoke partially, and letting his tail slip out of his mouth, off he went in a northerly direction, at the rate of forty knots an hour, with the good ship Diddleus on his back.

“We quickly clewed up the sails, or our masts would to a certainty have gone over the side. On we went in this way for three days, when the opium again making him drowsy, he put his tail into his mouth, as a little child does its thumb, and once more went off to sleep. The movement caused the ship to glide off into the sea outside the circle, and there being a strong southerly wind, you may be sure we lost no time in making all sail to get clear of so awkward a customer. The people set up a shout of joy when they saw him like a large island floating astern of the ship. I ordered them to be silent lest they should wake him up, and told them not to be too sure that we were yet altogether clear of him. As it turned out, I was right.

“For two days we sailed on without anything unusual happening, and the crew had begun to recover their usual spirits, when, just as it had gone two bells in the middle watch, the first mate called me up, in great alarm, to say that there were two glaring lights right astern of us, coming up fast with the ship. A strong hot wind, and an almost overpowering smell of sulphur, convinced me of the dreadful truth:—we were pursued by the big sea-serpent. I saw that there was nothing to be done but to run for it, so we made all sail, studden sails alow and aloft, and as the Diddleus was a good one to go, away we bowled with the monster in hot chase after us. And now, young gentlemen, as my watch is up, and Mr Fitzgerald will be on deck presently to relieve me, I must bring my tale of the big sea-serpent to an end for the present. What happened next I’ll tell you another night: I think you’ll agree that there are not many men afloat who have seen stranger sights than I have; and yet I don’t say, mind you, that the one I have just told you about, is the strangest by very far—ha! ha! ha! I should think not.”

When the watch was relieved, we all turned in, and, though I went to sleep quickly enough, I must own that I was all night long dreaming that I was on board the Diddleus, chased by the big sea-serpent. The next day I got leave to go on shore to pay my respects to the governor’s family. I had never been made so much of as I was by those Dutch ladies, even during my last visit home, and Miss Essa and I became more and more intimate. I thought her, indeed, the most charming young lady I had ever seen, and I do not know how affairs would have ended, had I not had cause to suspect that, though she treated me with very sisterly regard, she still looked upon me only as a young midshipman, and a mere boy. At first I was very indignant, and thought her very ungrateful; but when I told my griefs to Grey he laughed, and assured me that when I went home I should consider my own sisters very far superior. I must own he was right.

We held the whole island of Curaçoa in subjection for six months without any reinforcements, and at length were relieved by the arrival of troops from Jamaica. We sailed shortly after for that island. Having refitted at Port Royal, we were once more at sea on the look-out for enemies.

I had read and heard of so many gallant things being done, that I became very anxious also to do something to distinguish myself. I talked the matter over with Grey. He had the same feeling, and we agreed that we would seize the first opportunity of doing something, though what we would do would depend upon circumstances. Week after week passed away, and the opportunity we looked for did not occur. At last, one day, when close in with one of the numerous small islands of those seas, Mr Bryan called me up, and ordered me to take command of the second cutter, with six seamen and a couple of marines, and to go on shore to collect sand for the use of the ship. I asked if Grey might accompany me.

“To keep each other out of mischief, I suppose,” he observed. “Yes, he may go, but, remember there’s an order against taking arms with you. It is feared that you youngsters will be running your heads into danger if you have the means of fighting.”

There was nothing very romantic or interesting in prospect for us, but still it was something to get away from the ship, and to feel that, in a certain sense, we were to be our own masters for a few hours. Billy Wise, the captain’s steward, was also sent in the boat. I have not mentioned Billy for some time. He had not, however, improved in sense since he came to sea this time, but was continually committing some extraordinary blunder or other. Toby Bluff also accompanied us. The boat was manned and ready to shove off, but Grey had not appeared, so I ran up the side to call him, leaving Billy in charge. I was not gone a minute, for Grey, who was waiting for a basket to collect shells, at once joined me. The wind was light, and while the frigate, under easy sail, stood off shore, we pulled towards it.

We had not got far from the ship, when a piece of sail-cloth being kicked aside, I saw under it several ship’s muskets. I counted five of them. I found also that there was a supply of ammunition and half a dozen cutlasses. How they came there was a mystery. No one knew, at least no one would tell. Billy Wise said that all sorts of things had been handed into the boat, and that the men had told him that they were spades to dig sand. Grey and I agreed that, though we could not have ventured to disobey orders and take arms, since the muskets were there, if we should meet with an enemy, it would of course be our duty to use them. The chances, however, of our falling in with one seemed very remote.

The heat was considerable, but not quite so hot as Mr Johnson had declared we should find it. We had a long pull, however, and as the men were somewhat exhausted, I allowed them to take some rest and refreshment before they began to load the boat. Of course it was not the sand close down to the sea which was required, but that which, being constantly exposed to the effects of the sun and wind, had become fine and white. The operation of carrying it to the boat therefore took some time. Grey and I had brought some cold beef and biscuit and rum and water, and so we sat ourselves down in the shade of a clump of palm trees to discuss our provisions, and to try and get cool. Some of the men then asked leave to bathe, and I told them that they might do so, warning them to beware of sharks and not to get out of their depth.

They had been frolicking about for some time, while Billy Wise was sitting down at some little distance off, watching them. Suddenly the thought seized him that he too would have a bathe, but he fancied some rocks further away which might serve as a dressing-room. The other men now began to go on with the duty we had come on. Toby Bluff, meantime, was strolling along the shore looking for shells for Grey and me. Suddenly we heard him shouting—

“Help—help! There’s Billy Wise drowning. Some beast has got hold of him!”

We rushed towards the spot where poor Billy had last been seen. There was a considerable commotion in the water. Now a leg, now an arm appeared. We ran on. Two of the men who had accompanied us dashed into the sea, as we also did, and we all made our way up to the spot just as poor Billy had disappeared under the water. We could see his limbs, however, and, seizing hold of him, we all dragged away and brought him to the surface. The cause of his disappearance was explained. Round his right leg and arm, and indeed his neck, were entwined the long tentaculae or arms of what I fancy was a huge squid. To clear him of the horrible mass seemed impossible. Indeed it appeared as if the poor fellow was already dead. We shouted for the rest of the men, and with their assistance we dragged Billy and the creature into shallow water. The monster would not let go, and we all set to work with our knives to cut it away arm by arm, and feeler by feeler. Till this was done, there was evidently no chance of our being able to restore animation. As it was, there seemed to be very little prospect of reviving the poor fellow. At length, however, we got him clear of the horrible mass, which dropped into the sea, and none of us were inclined to stop and examine it. I never have been quite certain what it really was. The sand was hot enough to hatch a turtle’s egg, so we laid Billy down on it and set to work to rub him all over his body. After a time an eyelid moved, and then his limbs began to twitch, and that encouraged us to rub harder and harder, till at length, to my infinite relief, he breathed, and, getting rid of some of the salt water he had swallowed, he sat up and stared round him, exclaiming, “Hallo, mates, have you caught the big fish? I thought as how I’d a grip of him myself.” Billy never heard the end of his big fish. When he attempted to put on his clothes, he complained that he was stung all over, and so the men carried him just as he was to the boat. They had, however, no little difficulty in keeping him there, for when his hitherto impeded circulation was completely restored, the stinging sensation increased, and made him feel that only a plunge in the sea would cure him. This event had delayed us considerably. We ought to have taken our departure from the island even before Billy had begun to bathe, and so, when I looked at my watch, I found that we were two hours at least behind our time. At last we shoved off, but where the frigate was we could not tell. Grey thought that she must have drifted round to the other side of the island. We had been directed to keep a look-out for her, but had neglected to do so. Then it became a question to which side she had drifted. To ascertain, we lay on our oars, and found a current running to the east, and so decided that she must have gone in that direction. We now pulled merrily along, sure of soon falling in with her. Billy Wise was the only unhappy one of the party. He could not tell what was going to happen to him, till the men told him he must have fallen into a hedge of sea-nettles, and that he would soon get well again. This comforted him considerably, and so he consented to put on his clothes and sit quiet.

It was now growing dusk, when, as we rounded a point, Grey exclaimed that he saw a sail ahead. I jumped upon the seat, and made out that she was a schooner standing off the land.

“She hasn’t much wind,” Grey remarked.

“We might overhaul her,” said I.

“We ought to do so,” remarked Grey; “she may be an enemy.”

“We’ve got arms, sir,” said one of the men.

“And ammunition,” added another.

“Many a rich prize has been taken by a boat’s crew,” observed the coxswain, the oldest man in the boat.

“Well, Grey, suppose we just pull up to her and ascertain what she is,” said I.

“With all my heart,” he answered; “it’s a pity, now we have got the muskets and ammunition, if we have the chance, that we should not make use of them.”

I fully agreed with him. My only fear was that the schooner might after all not prove an enemy. The wind was dropping gradually—there was little doubt that we should get up to her.

“I suppose that the captain won’t mind much if she is an enemy and we attack her,” continued Grey. “He’ll suspect, though, that we disobeyed orders, and had arms in the boat.”

“Not if we take her,” I answered. “He’ll not ask questions. If we fail we shall get into a terrible row—we may count on that; but we must take her, and it will stick a feather in our caps, and put some dollars in our pockets too.”

We were pulling steadily on all this time. We got the muskets up, and ascertained that they were dry, and, loading them, placed them on the thwarts ready for use. The schooner held her course. There was just wind enough to fill her sails and no more. I felt convinced that she was French. I asked the coxswain, Ned Dawlish, his opinion. He agreed with me, and thought that she was a privateer.

“If so, she must be armed,” said I. “We will keep in her wake, and as in a short time she will not have steerage way, she will be unable to bring her guns to bear on us.”

The men were all highly delighted with our proposal. They must have anticipated some such chance when they smuggled the arms into the boat. Ned Dawlish took another look at the chase. “She’s a French craft, and a privateer, I’ll bet any money,” he exclaimed, sitting down again to his oar.

The crew now gave way with a will. The sooner we were up to her the better, because, of course, we knew that we must by this time be seen, and our intentions suspected.

“She carries three or, maybe, four guns on a side,” observed Ned, looking over his shoulder. “But that’s no odds, they can’t reach us.”

His eagerness and courage animated the rest of the crew. How many men the chase carried we could not tell; indeed, we did not consider. Not one of us entertained a doubt that we should take her. Our proposed plan of proceeding was very simple. We were to pull up alongside, jump on board, and, cutlass in hand, drive the enemy down the hatches, or into the sea if they would not yield.

There was still some light left, and, as we drew near, it appeared to me that the decks were somewhat crowded. I asked Grey what he thought. He agreed with me. Still it was too late to retreat. We had not got much farther when bright flashes of flame burst from the stern, and, what we little expected, a shower of bullets rattled about us.

“Give way, lads, give way!” shouted Ned Dawlish. “We’ll lick the Johnny Crapeaus in spite of that.”

The boat dashed on. We hoped to get alongside before another volley was fired. In vain. Again a leaden shower rattled round our heads. Once more Ned Dawlish shouted loudly. There was a deep groan, and he fell, with his face bent down, to the bottom of the boat. Grey seized his oar, and took his place. He had been shot in the back. Speed was everything to us now. There must be a considerable number of small-arm men on board, I saw; but even then it never occurred to me that we ought to turn tail.

On we went. Still the enemy kept up a fire at us. Toby Bluff gave a sharp cry. A bullet had hit him, but he answered me when I spoke, and kept his seat. We had the muskets ready. I let go the tiller and seized one. Grey and Billy Wise and two other men did the same, and let fly among the enemy.

In another instant we were under the schooner’s quarter. The bowman hooked on. Without asking leave, up we scrambled, and, cutlass in hand, in spite of boarding-pikes thrust at us, and pistols flashed in our faces, began to play heartily about us among the very much astonished Frenchmen.

Chapter Nine.

If the Frenchmen were very much astonished at finding us among them, we were not the less so on discovering the number of our opponents. Besides the crew, we found ourselves engaged with thirty or forty soldiers; but had there been more, it would have been the better for us, for so crowded were the schooner’s decks, that they impeded each other’s movements. By the suddenness of our rush, we had gained the after part of the vessel, and had killed or wounded half a dozen of the enemy before they knew exactly what to do. The bodies of these men served as a sort of rampart, while the bowman of our boat, having secured her, climbed up the side to our support, thus allowing us a few seconds to look about. In the centre of a group of vociferating, gesticulating, grimace-making Frenchmen, some armed with muskets, others with swords and cutlasses, and others pistols and boarding-pikes, stood a tall, gaunt, soldier officer, eyeing us very sternly, and tugging hard to get a sword out of a long scabbard, while he kept screaming to his men, as I understood, to annihilate the dogs of Englishmen, and to kick them into the sea. But though he kept shouting louder and louder, till his cries resembled the rabid howls of a wild beast, his soldiers found that though it might be easy to order them to kick five stout British seamen overboard, and two rather precocious midshipmen, it was not quite as easy for them to obey. I saw, too, that our only chance of success was to push on without further delay. Had Mr Johnson been with us I should have felt less doubt as to the result of our exploit.

“On, my lads!” I shouted, “we must drive these Frenchmen off the deck.”

Grey echoed my words, as did another faint voice, and I found that Toby Bluff, in spite of his wound, had climbed on board the schooner, and was ready to do battle by my side. On we all pushed. A sturdy French seaman, on my left, raised his cutlass, while I was engaged with another on my right. I could just see, out of the corner of my left eye, his weapon descending, and fully believed that my last moment had come, for it was impossible to ward it off. Before, however, the cutlass reached my head, there was the report of a pistol close to my ear, and my enemy tumbled over dead on the deck. Toby had saved my life, just as I had before saved the boatswain’s. We continued cutting and slashing away so furiously, that the Frenchmen no longer attempted to contend against us. Jumping aside like a troop of monkeys, as we got among them, they tumbled over each other down the hatchways, the old officer with them; whether he went of his own accord, or could not help it, I was unable to tell. All I know is, that he disappeared with most of his army, the remainder of whom lay sprawling on deck, or clinging to the bowsprit, while some of the crew had run up the rigging, and others had tumbled into the hold with the soldiers. Over these latter we took the liberty of clapping the hatches, while Billy Wise did the wisest thing he had been guilty of for a long time; he pointed his musket at the men aloft, and intimated that he would shoot the first who attempted to descend. Some of them had pistols, but they had fortunately already fired them at us, and they were afraid of throwing them at our heads, lest Billy should put his threat into execution. His adventure with the sea monster had evidently roused his wits, for he had, besides this, done good service in boarding, and several of the foe owed their fall to his sturdy arm. In less than five minutes from the time we sprang on board, Grey and I were shaking hands, as we stood on the hatch, with the Frenchmen below us.

“I hope, though, that the Monsieurs won’t blow up the ship,” he observed; “they must begin to feel heartily ashamed of the way they have allowed us to take her from them.”

“No fear of it; they are not the fellows for that,” I answered: “but it is just possible that they may attempt to take her back again, so we must keep a very bright look-out to prevent them.”

Grey agreed with me.

“I wish that I could talk to them, though,” he remarked; “I don’t suppose that one of our party knows a word of French.”

“No; we must learn, however, on the first opportunity,” said I. “It would be very convenient, and very likely useful. If the captain had not known it, we should probably have been caught by the enemy’s fleet when we got among them.”

The puzzle was now to settle how to manage with these prisoners. As we had only seven effectives, and they had more than forty, it was no slight task. Billy Wise, touching his hat, suggested that we should shoot them, or send them overboard with round-shots at their heels, to swim ashore if they could; but as that mode of procedure was somewhat contrary to the customs of civilised warfare, we declined to adopt it, though undoubtedly it would have solved our difficulties. We ultimately agreed that our best plan would be to get hold of all those on deck, and to lash their hands behind them, and then to summon a few at a time of those below to be treated in the same way. We soon had all those above deck secured. It seemed extraordinary that men should submit in so abject a manner to a party of men and boys. They appeared, indeed, entirely to have lost their wits. It shows what boldness and audacity will accomplish. However, it might have been the other way, and we might all have been knocked on the head, or tumbled down as prisoners into the Frenchman’s hold. Having accomplished this, we sent a hand to the helm, trimmed sails, though there was not much wind to fill them, and steered in the direction in which we hoped to fall in with the frigate. I must own that it was not till then that we thought of poor Ned Dawlish. We drew the boat alongside, and had him lifted on deck. We had some faint hopes that, though he lay so still, he might be alive, but his glazed eyes and stiffened limbs too plainly told us that his last fight was over, and that we should hear his cheery voice and hearty laugh no more. We then, turned our attention to Toby Bluff. He had shown himself a true hero, for though his wound must have given him intense pain, he had not given utterance to a complaint or a single groan, but had endeavoured to work away as if nothing was the matter with him. I had observed a good deal of blood about his dress, but it was not till I came to examine him that I found it had flowed from his own veins, and that his shirt and trousers on one side were literally saturated. He was looking deadly pale, and would in a few seconds have fainted, had not Grey and I set to work to staunch the blood. We had not much experience as surgeons, but we succeeded after some time.

“Thank ye, sir; thank ye,” said Toby, his voice growing weaker every moment; “I’ll be up and at ’em again directly. I wants another pistol, please, sir. I don’t know what tricks the mounseers may be up to, and they shan’t hurt you if I can help it, that they shan’t. I shot one on ’em, and I’ll shoot another.”

By this time his voice grew indistinct, and we began to be alarmed about him. We happily had some rum and water left. We poured it down his throat, and it evidently revived him. We then placed him under charge of the helmsman, and continued our other duties.

“Now, Merry, what’s to be done?” asked Grey, when we had got all who remained on deck in limbo. “If those gentlemen down there find it’s hot, which I suspect they will very soon, they will begin to grow obstreperous, and try to force their way out. When men get desperate, they are somewhat difficult to manage.”

“People cannot live without air, I fancy, and they cannot have much of it in the hold of this craft, which must naturally have a pretty strong smell of bilge-water,” I answered. “We must get them up somehow or other, so that they don’t overpower us. However, we may as well first get the dead men overboard; they are only in the way where they are.”

“We should see to the wounded first,” remarked Grey, more thoughtful and humane than I was. “If we could get below, I dare say that we should find spirits and wine, and other good things for them.”

The first man we came to had received the stroke of a British cutlass full on the top of his head, and did not require our assistance, so he was pitched overboard. The next was the man shot dead by Toby, so his body was treated in the same way. A third still breathed, but was bleeding profusely from a deep wound in his shoulder, and a shot through his side. His case seemed hopeless, but we bound up his hurts and placed him against the bulwarks, under the shade of the sail. Two more we came to were dead, and two badly wounded. When we had done what we could for them, and placed them with their companions, we saw a fourth man, whom we supposed to be dead, right forward. When we lifted him up his limbs did not seem very stiff, nor could we see any wound about him. Billy Wise was assisting us.

“Why, sirs,” he exclaimed, “the chap has got a big knife in his clutch, and those eyes of his ain’t dead men’s eyes, but maybe it will be just as well to pitch him overboard; he can’t do no harm then, anyhow.”

Billy was right, for as he spoke I saw the supposed dead man’s eyes twinkle. Calling another of our people to our assistance, we snatched the knife out of the man’s hand, and then lifting him up we seemed as if about to heave him overboard. Indeed, Billy thought that was our object. The Frenchman, however, did not approve of this, and gave strong evidence that he was alive, by struggling violently, and uttering with extraordinary volubility a variety of expletives on the matter. When we had frightened him a little, we lashed his arms behind him and placed him with the rest of the prisoners on deck. There could be little doubt that he had shammed dead, and kept a knife ready, with the hopes of releasing his companions while we were off our guard, and retaking the vessel. For this we could not blame him, so we treated him with the same care as the other prisoners—only, perhaps, we kept rather a sharper watch over him, lest he might attempt to play us some other trick.

There were some casks of water on the deck, so we served some of it out to ourselves and our prisoners on deck alike. Most of the Frenchmen looked as if they were grateful, but the sulky countenances of some of them did not alter. However, that made no difference in our behaviour, as Grey and I agreed it must have been terribly annoying to their feelings to find themselves thus hopelessly prisoners.

We had done thus much, when we heard thumping and shouts from below. This was what we expected, but we had hoped to have fallen in with the frigate before it became absolutely necessary to open the hatches. We looked round. From the deck she was nowhere to be seen, so charging Grey and our men to watch the hatches—the companion and forehatch, as well as the main, I went aloft to obtain a wider circle, in the expectation that I might thus discover her.

Not a sail was in sight. The low island with its groves of palm trees lay to the northward, and the wide expanse of the Caribbean Sea to the south. I scarcely knew what to do. I sat at the mast-head to consider, but was speedily aroused by a shout from Grey.

In a second, as the Yankees say, like greased lightning, I slid down the topmast backstay on deck. A Frenchman’s head was protruding through the fore hatchway, he having forced off the hatch, and Billy Wise, who had been stationed there, was endeavouring to drive him back—not an easy task, as others below were shoving a boarding-pike at him for the purpose of compelling him to retreat. Billy, however, stood his ground, and was working away with his elbow to get at his cutlass, while he kept his musket pointed at the man’s head.

In the meantime others were thundering away at the main hatch, and, what was still more dangerous, a party had evidently cut their way aft, and were trying to force back the companion-hatch. We knew, too, that they must have firearms, so that we were altogether placed in a very difficult position. The fore hatch must first be secured. I was running to help Billy, when I saw him whip out his cutlass, and before I could stop him, it flashed in the sun, and the unfortunate Frenchman’s head rolled on the deck.

“There, you Johnny Crapeaus, if any of you likes it, I’ll do the same for you,” he shouted, flourishing his weapon.

The body of the man fell below, stopping his companions from ascending, and though they might not have understood the words in which Billy’s liberal offer was made, they must have caught sight of the glittering cutlass sweeping over the hatchway, and hesitated about placing their necks within its influence.

I sprang forward. So excited was Billy that he did not see me, and very nearly treated me as he had threatened to do the Frenchmen—taking me for one of them.

“Lauk, Master Merry, if I had a done it,” he exclaimed, when he discovered his mistake.

I did not speak, but popping on the hatch, secured it before our captives could make a rush to get out. It was breathless work, it may be believed—indeed, I even to this day feel almost out of breath when I think of it. Leaving Billy at the post he had guarded so well, I ran back to the companion-hatch, inside of which we could hear the men working away with most disagreeable vigour.

“Oh dear! oh dear!” exclaimed Grey over and over again. “If we could but speak French, we could tell the men what we would do if they would behave themselves.”

“But, as we cannot, we must show them what we will do if they don’t,” I rejoined. “We must get them on deck somehow or other, for if we keep them much longer below they will die, I am afraid. It is hot up here—it must be ten times worse in that close hold.”

“I’ll tell you, then,” he answered. “We must keep our loaded pistols in our hands, and get up one at a time through the companion-hatchway. If more than one attempts to come, we must shoot him; there’s no help for it. It will be a long process, but I suppose those who first come will tell the others how we treat them, and they will be content to wait.”

“We must have some water, then, for they will be terribly thirsty,” said I. “And we must have a good supply of lashings ready, to secure them.”

We accordingly unrove all the running rigging that could be spared, and cut it into lengths, and then, leaving Billy Wise as sentry at his former post, we rolled two water casks over the main hatch, adding a spare sail and spars, so that there was little danger of its being forced. We all then collected round the after hatch. We slipped back the hatch sufficiently far to allow of one man passing through at a time, then, holding our pistols so that those below might see them, we beckoned to the Frenchmen to come up. At first, from having discovered probably the way that Billy Wise had treated their countryman, they were unwilling to take advantage of our invitation, which was not to be wondered at. I ordered the men to take care lest they might fire up at us, for I suspected some treachery.

“Come along, mounseers, come along; we won’t hurt ye,” said Ned Bambrick, the best man with us; indeed, there was not a better in the ship, though certain wild pranks in which he had indulged had prevented him from becoming a petty officer. “Come along, now, we’ll treat ye as if ye was all sucking babies.”

Though the Frenchmen did not understand the words addressed to them, the tone of his voice somewhat reassured them, and at last one ventured up. We immediately seized him by the arms, hauled him out, and shut to the hatch, greatly to the disappointment of those who were following. The Frenchman, who was a sailor, looked dreadfully frightened, and began to struggle violently, expecting probably that we were going to throw him overboard. We had, however, his arms very soon lashed behind him, and we then gave him water, and pointed to his shipmates sitting quietly round the side. He was once more satisfied, and we then signed to him, as well as we could, that he was to tell his companions below that no harm would happen to them. We concluded that he did so, for after he had shouted down the hatchway, another cautiously lifted his head above the coaming. He gave a cry as we seized hold of him, but we quickly had him up, and treated like the other. In the same way we got up a dozen, the last showing clear signs of having suffered most. At length a nearly bald head appeared, with a silver plate covering part of it, on which I read the word “Arcole,” and then the high narrow forehead, gaunt cheeks, and thin body of the old colonel slowly emerged from the cabin. He looked round with a confused expression on his countenance, as if not very certain what had happened; but, before he had had much time for consideration, Ned Bambrick politely took him by the hand, and helped him to step out on deck. When he found himself seized to be pinioned, he looked very indignant, and struggled to get loose, but we had the ropes round his arms in a moment. As a compliment, however, we secured him to the mainmast, with a heap of sail-cloth to sit on. He made so many extraordinary grimaces that even poor Toby, who was sitting opposite to him, in spite of his suffering, burst into a fit of laughter. Grey and I had, however, just then too much to do to laugh. There were still nearly twenty men below, enough to overpower us and to release their countrymen, so it was necessary to be as cautious as at first. From the horrible effluvium which came rushing up the hatchway each time the hatch was slid off, we might have known that the men who had to exist in it long were not likely to be very difficult to manage. In those days midshipmen, at all events, knew nothing of hydrogen and oxygen, and that human beings could not exist without a certain supply of the latter. A few more climbed slowly up. We thought that they were shamming, and treated them like the rest. At last no more appeared.

“What can they be about?” I asked of Grey. Then we heard some groans.

“What shall we do?” said Grey.

“I’ll tell you, sir, I’ll go below and find out,” exclaimed Ned Bambrick.

It was the only way of solving the difficulty. We put on the companion-hatch, and lifted off the main hatch. We were nearly knocked down with the abominable odour which arose as we did so. Notwithstanding this, Ned sprang down into the hold. He groped about for half a minute, when he sang out, “Send a whip down and get these fellows on deck, or they’ll be dead altogether.”

We lowered the end of a rope, and ran up the men one after another, as he made them fast to it. They were in a very exhausted condition; but the fresh air, though it was still very hot, and the water we poured down their throats, soon revived them, and we had to lash their arms behind them, as we had the others. During this time Billy Wise volunteered to go down and assist Ned. We had hoisted up ten or a dozen when they both declared that they could find no more, so we took all the hatches off to ventilate the vessel, not forgetting to throw overboard the corpse of the poor fellow whose head Billy’s cutlass had cut off. Billy wanted to keep the head as a trophy, but we did not approve of that, and made him pitch it after the body.

“Well, now I hope you’ll find each other,” observed Billy, with perfect gravity, as he did so.

It had certainly a very odd appearance to see our forty prisoners arranged round the vessel, with the colonel at the mainmast and the man we supposed to be the master at the foremast. We had, however, to wait on them, and to carry them water and food. Grey and I agreed that, though it was a very honourable thing to command a ship, we should be very glad to be relieved of the honour. Since we captured the vessel we had not had a moment to take any food. Hunger made us rather inclined to despond. We, however, found out what was the matter with us, and sent Billy Wise down into the cabin to forage. He soon returned with some biscuit and white cheese, and dried plums and raisins, and a few bottles of claret, but there was no honest cold beef or rum.

“It’s no wonder we licked the Johnny Crapeaus when that’s the stuff they feeds on,” observed Ned Bambrick, turning over the food with a look of contempt.

However, he and the rest stowed away no small amount of the comestibles, notwithstanding his contempt for them. When, however, he came to the liquid, tossing off the contents of a bottle, he made a woefully wry face and exclaimed,—

“Billy, my boy, we must have a full cask of this on deck—a chap must drink a bucket or two before he finds out he has taken anything. It’s vinegar and water, to my mind.”

Grey and I took a few glasses of the wine. It did not taste so bad, especially in that hot weather, but we fancied that there was but little strength in it. As the men required refreshment, we did not object to their taking as much as they fancied. Persuaded by Bambrick, Billy went below, and soon sang out that he had found a cask of the same stuff as that in the bottles. A whip was sent below. A cask was hoisted on deck, and found to contain what was undoubtedly claret. When the old colonel saw it he shrieked out something about “monsieur le gouverneur.”

“Well, Mounzeer Governor! here’s to your health, then,” said Bambrick, draining off a mugful of the claret, which had been quickly tapped. “This is better tipple than the other. Here, old boy, you shall have a glass, to see if we can’t put a smile into that ugly mug of yours.”

The old soldier seemed not at all to object to the wine which Ned poured down his throat, and he smacked his lips as if he would like some more. Fortunately Grey and I now tasted the claret, and though we were no great judges of wine, we knew enough to ascertain that it was remarkably fine and strong; and moreover we discovered, by the way Ned and Billy and the rest began to talk, that they had had enough, if not too much of it already.

“It was unwise of us to let them have any at all,” observed Grey. “How we shall keep them from it I do not know; and if they get drunk, as they certainly will if they have much more, the chances are the Frenchmen will take the vessel from us.”

“We must knock the head in,” I answered. “It is our only security. I know from experience, that if seamen can by any means get hold of liquor, they will do so at all risks, and that they are in no way particular what it is.”

“It will be better to serve it out to the prisoners,” said Grey. “If we appeal to these men’s kind feelings they will do it, and if there is more than enough we must leave the spile out.”

Bambrick and Billy, and the other men, were perfectly ready to do as we proposed. When the old colonel saw what we were doing he again shrieked out about the Governor, but this did not prevent the men from serving out the wine. It only made Bambrick turn round and say:

“All right, Mr Governor, you shall have some more, old boy.”

He took care, at all events, that the old gentleman should have enough, for he gave him the greater portion of the contents of a jug.

We waited till nearly all the men were served, and then Grey pulled out the spile, and a good deal ran out. He had to put it in before the men returned for their last supply. Still, for fear that too much might remain, he kicked away the block of wood which kept it in its place, and then rolling over the cask, it was emptied of its remaining contents. I must do our fellows the justice to say that they treated the prisoners as they would like to have been treated themselves, and gave them as much wine as they would drink. The only difference was that they would have drunk five times as much as the Frenchmen, and not have been the worse for it.

They were rather inclined to grumble when they found that there was no more. I saw that it was time to exert my authority.

“You’ve done very well, lads,” I exclaimed. “But suppose you were all to get drunk, what would the Frenchmen do with us, I should like to know? Shall I tell you? They would manage to wriggle themselves free, and heave us all overboard. If we don’t want to disgrace ourselves, let us keep what we’ve got. Not another drop of liquor does anyone have aboard here till we fall in with the frigate.”

My speech appeared to have some effect, and I took care to give all hands ample employment, that they might not think of the liquor. As it was, by the springy way in which they moved about the deck, and the harangues uttered by Ned Bambrick on every trivial occasion, I saw that they had already had quite enough for our safety. Night was now approaching, but still the frigate was nowhere to be seen. Grey went aloft, and took an anxious look round.

“Not a sign of her,” he said, as he returned on deck.

Darkness came on. All hands were naturally feeling very sleepy, but with so many prisoners to guard, even though their hands were lashed behind them, it was necessary for us to keep awake. However, Grey and I agreed that—if we were rested and brisk we could do more than if we were worn out—it would be best for us to take a little sleep at intervals, and allow one or two of the men to sleep at the same time. One man was at the helm, and two others kept walking up and down the deck, with pistols in their hands and cutlasses ready for use. Grey lay down first. He slept so soundly that I did not like to call him. The night was dark, but the prisoners were quiet, and there was but little wind; even that little had died away. I did not altogether like the look of the weather. The heat was very great, and though it was calm then, I knew that it was not far off the hurricane season, and I thought if we were to be caught in a hurricane how greatly our difficulties would be increased, even if we were not lost altogether. After a time Grey started up of his own accord. The instant I lay down on the after part of the deck I was asleep. It appeared to me that I had scarcely closed my eyes, when I was aroused by shouts and cries. I started up, fully persuaded that the Frenchmen were loose and upon us. The sounds appeared to come from the hold. As I ran to the main hatchway I heard a noise of scuffling and struggling, and a voice shouting “Oh, Master Merry, Master Grey, the ghosteses have got hold of me, the ghosteses have got hold of me.” Looking into the hold, I saw, by the light of a lanthorn, Billy Wise struggling with two Frenchmen, while, forward, Grey and one of our men were, I discovered rather by my ears than by sight, engaged with another of the prisoners, who had apparently worked himself loose. Ned Bambrick had started to his feet at the moment that I did. Together we leaped down below. We were not an instant too soon. Billy was almost overpowered, and as there were some cutlasses at hand, the Frenchmen might have armed themselves and killed us while we were asleep. Bambrick knocked one over with a blow of his fist, and the other was easily managed. Where they had come from we could not tell. They were none of those who had appeared on deck, and must have been concealed very cleverly when we sent down to search below. It was a lesson to Grey and me ever after to go and look ourselves when a search of importance was to be made. While Bambrick and Billy held the men down, I ran for some rope, with which we made them fast pretty tightly to some stanchions between decks. Grey and his companion had in the meantime re-secured the prisoner who had managed nearly to release himself, and we then made a more careful search than before through every part of the vessel. We had pretty well satisfied ourselves that no one else was stowed away below, when a loud cry, and finding the vessel suddenly heeling over, made us spring on deck. A squall had struck her. I did not expect to see her recover herself. Everything was flying away; yards were cracking, the sails in shreds fluttering in the gale; the masts were bending as if about to go over the side; blocks were falling from aloft; ropes slashing and whipping furiously; the water was rushing in through the lee scuppers half up the deck, and nearly drowning the unfortunate Frenchmen sitting there, who were shrieking out in dismay, believing that their last moments had come. Ned Bambrick sprang aft and put up the helm: the after canvas was chiefly off her; she had gathered way, and now answering her helm, she flew before it. Never had I been in such a scene of confusion, increased by the roaring of the wind, the shrieks of the prisoners, the rattling of the blocks and ropes, the cracking of spars, and the loud slush of the water as it rushed about the deck. What had become of Grey I could not tell. It was too dark now to distinguish anyone. I called: he did not answer. A horrid feeling seized me. He must have been knocked overboard. I called again in despair. At that moment it would have been a matter of indifference to me if the Frenchmen had risen and taken the vessel from us. A faint voice answered me. It was that of Toby Bluff. “He was there, sir, but just now.”

I had been standing on the weather side. I slid down to leeward, for I saw some one there. I grasped hold of the person, and hauled him up. It was Grey. When the vessel was first struck, he had been knocked over by the tiller, which he must have just taken, believing that there was to be but a slight breeze. He had been half stunned and half drowned. He speedily, however, to my great joy, recovered. I now mustered all hands, most of whom had been sent sprawling in among the Frenchmen, who kicked and bit at them, they declared, but which Grey and I did not believe to be the fact. We now set to work to get the ship to rights. We squared yards as well as we could, furled the remnant of the canvas, and set a close-reefed fore-topsail, under which the little vessel ran on very comfortably. Our chief concern was, that we were, as we thought, running away from the frigate. None of us felt disposed to go to sleep again, so we kept a bright look-out, not knowing whether we might not be hurrying directly on to a coral reef, or another island. The wind, however, soon began to go down, and I was proposing to Grey to haul up again, when Billy Wise, who was stationed forward, sang out—

“Starboard—starboard the helm—or we shall run down the frigate!”

Sure enough, in half a minute, we were gliding by close under her stern. A voice from the deck hailed us.

“What schooner is that?”

“The —, I don’t know her name—prize to the second cutter of His Majesty’s frigate Doris,” I answered. “We’ve a heap of prisoners, and I don’t know what to do with them!”

“Heave-to, and we will send a boat on board,” was shouted in return.

Day was just breaking, and the increasing light enabled us to manage better than we could otherwise have done. We had now less fear of our enemies breaking loose, so all hands were able to assist in getting some after sail on the vessel, and bringing her up to the wind.

“Now we shall catch it for all this,” said Grey, as we saw the boat pulling towards us from the frigate.

“I hope not,” said I. “At all events, we must make the best of it. There’s Mr Fitzgerald in the boat. We’ll get him to stand our friend.”

“Well, boys, this is a nate piece of work you’ve been after doing now!” remarked our handsome second lieutenant, as he surveyed the deck. “You don’t mean to say that you captured all these heroes?”

“Every one of them, sir,” said Grey, with perfect seriousness. “I hope the captain won’t be angry.”

“There’s no saying. However, we’ll see,” he answered with a smile.

We now made more sail, and ran in close under the lee of the frigate.

Perigal was sent on board the schooner to take charge of her, and the prisoners were transferred to the deck of the frigate, where the captain and most of the officers were assembled. Mr Johnson met me. He had just time to say, “I congratulate you, Mr Merry. You’ve done well. You are worthy of my teaching!” when the prisoners were summoned aft.

We had given the old colonel his sword, that he might present it in due form. He marched aft at the head of his men, and presented it to Captain Collyer with a profound bow.

The Captain then addressed him. I was afterwards told what he said. It was—

“I am surprised, monsieur, that you, an experienced soldier, who have seen much service, should allow yourself and your men to be captured by a single boat’s crew and two midshipmen.”

“Ma foi!” exclaimed the colonel, with an inimitable shrug of his shoulders, and an indescribable expression of countenance, indicative of intense disgust. “I am a brave man; I fear nothing—mais c’est ce terrible mal de mer!” (this terrible sea-sickness.)

I do not know what Captain Collyer said in return, but I fancy he did not pay the colonel any compliments on his gallantry. (I only hope that Frenchmen, on other occasions, may have their valour cooled down to zero by that terrible sea-sickness.) Grey and I were very agreeably surprised when, instead of being reprimanded for what we had done, the captain praised us very much for the daring way in which we had taken the schooner. Mr Fitzgerald had told him all the particulars beforehand. Somebody, however, was to blame for having taken the arms in the boat. All the men, however, declared that they knew nothing about it, but that the getting them in had been entirely managed by Ned Dawlish, who, being dead, could say nothing in his defence, and was therefore found guilty. The truth was, that the captain was very well-pleased at what had been done, and was ready to overlook the disobedience of orders of which the men had been guilty.

Grey and I were in high feather. We dined that day with the captain, who complimented us on our exploit, and made us give him all the particulars. He told us that the carpenter, who had been sent on board to survey the schooner, had reported favourably of her, and that he proposed to employ her as a tender, while the frigate was refitting at Port Royal.

As it was necessary to get rid of our prisoners, a course was steered at once for Jamaica, so that we might land them there. We found, after a little time, that the French colonel was not a bad old fellow. I really believe that he was as brave as most men, and that he had spoken the truth when he said that “le mal de mer had overcome him.” Probably most of his men were in the same condition. Grey and I did not forget our resolution to try and learn French, and as one of the mates, Duncan McAllister, could speak a little, we begged him to ask the old colonel if he would teach us. He replied that he would do so gladly, and would teach any one else who wished to learn. Indeed our proposal was ultimately of great service to him, for when he got on shore, and was admitted as a prisoner on his parole, he gained a very comfortable livelihood by teaching French. I afterwards heard that, when the war was over, he declined going back to la belle France, and settled among his friends the English. It is just possible, that the way in which he had allowed himself and his thirty men to be taken by us had something to do with this decision.

The colonel’s name was, I remember, Painchaud, which is translated Hotbread,—a funny name, which I never met elsewhere. We invited him into the berth to give his lessons, but we had to clear away several boxes and hampers to afford him space to stretch his legs under the table. As he sat on the narrow locker with his bald head touching the deck above, his elbows resting on the table, and his long legs stretched out to the other side of the berth, while we youngsters in every variety of attitude grouped ourselves round him, he looked like some antiquated Gulliver among a party of rather overgrown Lilliputians. At first he had a considerable number of pupils, but it was very evident that they assembled more for the sake of trying if any fun could be found, than with any serious intention of learning French. We had forgotten when we had made our proposal that books would be necessary to enable us to make any progress in the language, but not a French work of any sort was to be procured on board, still less a grammar. At length the colonel produced two from his valise. They were, I have reason to believe, not such as would have tended to our edification; but happily, in the then state of our knowledge of the language in which they were written, they were not likely to hurt our morals. As we had no grammar, the colonel made us understand that he wanted paper and pens and ink; and then he wrote out words, and intimated to us that we were to repeat them after him. He would take the hand of one of his pupils and exclaim “main,” and make each of us repeat it after him. Then he would seize an ear and cry out “oreille,” and pretty hard he pinched too. If any of us cried out, it evidently afforded him infinite amusement. We, of course, gave him the name which he always afterwards kept, of Colonel Pinchard. When any of his pupils pronounced the word wrongly, it was highly amusing to watch the wonderful way in which his shoulders went up and his head sank down between them. No English pair of shoulders could have behaved in the same way; nor could certainly any English mouth have rolled out the extraordinary expletives with which he was wont to give force to his sentiments. His great delight was, however, pulling Grey’s and my ears, which, we agreed, was in revenge for taking him prisoner. One day he wrote down nez, and asked me what it meant. I replied by a loud neigh like a horse. The rest of the party took the joke and laughed, as I intended they should; but he, not understanding the cause of this, and thinking that they were laughing at him, seized my nose and gave it a tweak, which made me fancy he was pulling it off. In the impulse of the moment I sprang on the table, and seizing his nasal promontory, hauled away at it with hearty goodwill, and there we sat, he sending forth with unsurpassable rapidity a torrent of “Sa–c–r–r–és,” which almost overwhelmed me; neither of us willing to be the first to let go. At last, from sheer exhaustion and pain, we both of us fell back. I might have boasted of the victory, for, though I felt acute pain, my nose did not alter its shape, while the Frenchman’s swelled up to twice its usual proportions. The contest, however, very nearly put an end to our French lessons. However, as our master was really a good-natured man, he was soon pacified, and we set to work again as before.

Chapter Ten.

We made wonderful progress with our French, in spite of our want of books. Indeed, I have reason to believe that information attained under difficulties, is not only acquired more rapidly, but most certainly more completely mastered, than with the aid of all the modern appliances of education, which, like steam-engines at full speed, haul us so fast along the royal road to knowledge, that we have no time to take in half the freight prepared for us. We found, too, that the old colonel knew considerably more about English than we had at first suspected, and at last we ascertained that he had before been captured, and shut up in a prison in England. He did not seem to have any pleasing recollections of that period of his existence. One day, after we had annoyed him more than usual with our pranks, and stirred up his bile, he gave vent to his feelings—

“Ah, you bêtes Anglais,” he exclaimed. “You have no sympathé vid des misérables. Vous eat ros beef vous-mêmes, and vous starve vos prisonniers.”

He then went on gravely to assure us, that when the inspector of prisons one day rode into the yard of the prison, and left his horse there while he entered the building, the famished prisoners rushed out in a body and surrounded the animal. Simultaneously they made a rush at the poor beast, and stabbed it with their knives. In an instant it was skinned, cut up, and carried off piecemeal. When the inspecting officer came back, he found only the stirrups and bit and hoofs. The prisoners were busily occupied cooking their dinners, and had already produced most delicious fricassees, so that the English officer could not believe that they were formed out of the animal on whose back he had galloped up to the prison not an hour before.

“That’s pretty well up to one of Mr Johnson’s yarns,” observed Grey to me. “I wish the old fellow could understand him; the boatswain would take the shine out of him I suspect.”

“Bah, dat is noting,” said the colonel. “I vill tell you many more curieuse tings. You talk much of de Anglish ladies. Vel, des are passablement bien; but des all get dronk ven des can. Je sais bien vy des go upstairs before de gentlehommes!—it is dat des may drink at dere ease. Ha, ha, dat is vot des do; you drink downstairs, des drink upstairs.”

“Come, come, Monsieur colonel,” exclaimed Duncan McAllister, starting up and striking his fist on the table. “Ye may tell what crammers ye like and welcome, but if ye dare to utter your falsehoods about the ladies of Scotland and England, matrons or maids, prisoner though you be, I’ll make your two eyes see brighter lightning than has come out of them for many a day; and if ye want satisfaction, ye shall have as much as ye can get out of a stout ash stick. Vous comprennez, don’t ye?”

The colonel shrugged his shoulders, and wisely said nothing. Though he did not understand all McAllister’s remarks, he saw that he had gone too far, and that it would be wiser in future, whatever might have been his belief, not to utter any remarks disparaging to the women of England among a party of English sailors.

“I dinna think that colonel ever did a bolder thing than brave a litter of young lions in their den,” exclaimed McAllister, who, for some especial reason, held France and Frenchmen in utter detestation and abhorrence, though he knew more of their language than most of us.

We did not mind the poor old colonel’s stories, for we remembered that he was a prisoner suffering from sea-sickness, and that he had no other way of venting his spleen.

At length we reached Port Royal, and our prize under charge of Perigal arrived at the same time. Colonel Pinchard begged so hard that he might stay on board while the frigate remained in harbour, that in consideration of the instruction he was affording the youngsters he was allowed to do so.

“Ah, I do like de ship ven she stay tranquil,” he exclaimed, spreading out his hands horizontally, and making them slowly move round. “But ven she tumble bout, den,” he put his hands on his stomach, exhibiting with such extraordinary contortions of countenance the acuteness of his sensations, that we all burst into hearty fits of laughter.

Indeed the colonel was a never failing source of amusement to us. From the wonderfully prolonged cackles in which he indulged, he also evidently enjoyed the jokes himself. The schooner, which required but little refitting, was soon ready for sea. It was understood that Perigal was to have the command, and Grey and I hoped to be allowed to accompany him. The captain had not as yet let us know his intentions. We should have been ready enough, probably, to have spent our time on shore; but as we should have but little chance of that, we fancied that we should prefer sailing in search of adventures on the ocean. There are few more beautiful spots on the earth’s surface than Jamaica, with its exquisite verdure, its lofty hills, known as the Blue Mountains, its round-topped heights covered with groves of pimento, its vast savannahs or plains, its romantic vales, its rivers, bays, and creeks, and its dense and sombre forests, altogether forming one of the most lovely of tropical pictures.