GRENADA--FALL IN WITH THE TUDOR--MURRAY'S FIRST MEETING WITH STELLA--
MASTER SPIDER INTRODUCED TO MR. SCROFTON--ARRIVAL AT ANTIGUA--SCENERY
AND ADVENTURES ON SHORE--ALICK MURRAY IN LOVE--A BOAT EXCURSION--A
CAPSIZE--A LONG SWIM--ANXIETY ON BOARD--A SEARCH--THE MISSING ONES
FOUND.
Early the next morning the frigate made that lovely gem of the ocean,
Grenada, and just as the fortifications crowning Richmond heights came
in view, and the slopes of the surrounding hills, covered with orange
groves and palm-trees, plantations, and fields, amid which sparkling
streams rushed downward to the sea, a ship was seen standing out of the
harbour. She was at once known by her number to be the _Tudor_. The
frigate was immediately hove-to, and the corvette having approached,
imitated her example. A boat was forthwith lowered from the latter, and
Alick Murray, accompanied by Archy Gordon, came on board the
_Plantagenet_. Alick having delivered the despatches of which he was
the bearer to the captain, was warmly greeted by his old friends, whom
he accompanied into the gunroom, while Archy was hurried down into the
midshipmen's berth.
Both parties were eager to hear each other's adventures. The corvette
had been detained longer than was expected at Madeira, and had been
three days in the magnificent harbour of Grenada.
"Oh, it's a braw place, there's ne'er doot about that," said Archy.
"They say it's just like Italy, and if so, Italy must be a beautiful
country. Hills and dales, covered with plantations, sic fruits and
flowers, and a plenty of Scotsmen. It has only one fault; there are no
ladies, unless they call the black lassies who gang wi' blue silk
parasols and na shoes to their feet so."
Archy's description of the island made all hands eager to visit it, and
much disappointment was felt when the sails were filled, and, in company
with the _Tudor_, a course was steered for Saint Vincent.
Stella had been on deck, watching the approaching corvette, and she
could not help remarking the young and handsome lieutenant who came from
her on board the frigate. Alick was not introduced, but he stood for
some time talking to Captain Hemming not far off, and occasionally his
eyes glanced towards her lovely countenance, while he wondered who she
could be. It was one of the first questions he put when he reached the
gunroom. Every one had plenty to say about her and her father. He did
not express his own opinion; had he admired her less he might have done
so. Alick Murray returned on board the corvette with the image of
Stella impressed on his heart. Like a wise man he tried to banish it,
but go it would not. Again and again that sweet countenance rose up
before him, and he longed for an opportunity of meeting her again--of
hearing her voice, of ascertaining her opinions, of learning her
history.
The ships visited Saint Vincent, Saint Lucia, Dominica, and other
islands in succession, the one vying with the other in beauty, though
the palm was given to the few first seen. As to the blacks, they all
appeared sufficiently quiet, so that only two or three days were spent
at each island.
The midshipmen had not forgotten their object in purchasing Spider, and
every day they had him into their berth to give him instructions in
polite knowledge, as they took care to tell Mr Scrofton. With all the
pains they took, however, he made no perceptible progress, though he had
no objection to eat the nuts and fruits offered him, provided they were
ripe and sweet, or to sit with a stick in his paws, and shoulder it at
the word of command. Still he infinitely preferred frolicking about on
deck, or swinging by his tail to a horizontal spar, slung for his
accommodation. He appeared altogether perfectly reconciled to his lot,
except when the ship was in harbour, when he would go aloft and sit on
the main-truck, gazing towards the green trees, while he chattered away,
evidently, as Gerald said, meditating on the pleasures of his youth,
spent amid his native forests.
At last, one day, the midshipmen conducted Spider in due form, dressed
in a coat and trousers, with a tarpaulin hat they had manufactured for
him, to the boatswain's cabin.
"We have done our best, Mr Scrofton, to bring up this monkey in the way
he should go, in order to become a civilised being," said Tom, with
perfect gravity. "Notwithstanding all our pains he doesn't know A from
Z; and though we have tried to make him understand how to light the
lamp, he can no more use the matches than at first, and puts them in his
mouth, or throws them away if given to him; and when it has been lighted
he pokes his paws into the flame to see what the curious red thing is
just sprung out of the wick."
"I don't expect that you ever will teach him, young gentlemen," answered
the boatswain seriously. "It would take centuries to produce the
change. After many generations of domestic life that long tail of his,
having become useless, would disappear; his hinder paws would take the
form of human feet; his forehead would expand; his arms would become
shorter, his body stouter--till at length all outward trace of his
monkey origin would be lost. That's what my books say, and I believe
them."
"Very good; I won't dispute the point," said Tom. "But I want to know
boxy the first monkeys who turned into men got their education, by which
the change was produced. As long as they had got their tails they never
would have thought of leaving their native forests, so well suited to
them."
"I haven't quite arrived at that part of the subject," answered the
boatswain; "but I'll consult my books and tell you."
"Suppose we teach him seamanship, how long do you think it will be
before he's fit to be boatswain of a ten-gun brig, Mr Scrofton?" asked
Gerald, in the most innocent tone he could assume.
Just then some one gave Master Spider a sly pinch on the tail, which
made him grin and chatter, and of course set all the midshipmen
laughing. Mr Scrofton, not perceiving the cause, thought that they
were laughing at him, and casting an angry glance from his ferrety eyes
at Gerald, he answered, "I'll tell you what, young gentlemen, it would
be in my opinion about the same time that it would take to fit you for
the post, unless you mend your manners. The boatswain even of a ten-gun
brig must be a man of character, and no jackanapes can ever become one;
and the boatswain of a frigate, you'll understand, is not to be sneered
at with impunity."
"That's the very point at issue!" exclaimed Tom, clapping his hands, and
in no ways daunted by the boatswain's anger. "You acknowledge, then,
that a monkey never can become a boatswain, and that Lord Monboddo is
altogether in the wrong?"
"I don't acknowledge anything of the sort, because I know nothing about
the matter," answered the boatswain, not intending to say what he did.
"But let me inform you, if you bring that monkey of yours here again to
mock me, I shall be compelled to take measures for putting a stop to
such audacious proceedings."
The midshipmen fearing, from the vengeful look Mr Scrofton cast at poor
Spider, that their pet's life was in danger, endeavoured to calm his
anger by assuring him that they had no intention of being disrespectful,
and that they begged he would retain his own opinion, notwithstanding
anything they had said on the subject. They had a hearty laugh when
they got back to the berth, fully resolved to bait the boatswain again
on the first opportunity.
At length the two ships lay snugly moored off the Royal Dockyard,
English harbour, in the island of Antigua, the prettiest of all pretty
harbours. Their arrival caused no small commotion among the
inhabitants, especially of the softer sex, when it was known that they
were to remain some time, and that a ball was to be given to the
officers at Government House. Colonel O'Regan and his daughter went on
shore to stay with their friends, Mr and Mrs Houghton, who had a
pretty cottage residence in the neighbourhood. A deputation came soon
afterwards to invite them to the ball. At first Stella was disposed to
decline the honour, as it involved a drive of eleven miles across the
island to Saint John's, the capital; but Lieutenant Murray, who happened
to be calling at the house, adding his solicitations, she accepted the
invitation. The colonel was much disconcerted by the delay. He had
expected to be at Jamaica some time before, where, as he told Captain
Hemming, he intended to leave his daughter with some friends while he
made an excursion to the Spanish Main. The object he had in view he did
not explain. As there was no help for it he was obliged to submit, and
the captain assured him that after leaving Antigua his intention was to
proceed direct to Jamaica. Antigua, although not so lovely as other
islands to the south, possesses a beauty of its own, and several trips
to enjoy its scenery were made by the officers into the interior. On
two occasions, Alick and Jack accompanied Stella and her father. While
Jack took charge of the colonel, Alick rode by Stella's side. Each time
he met her the more he was attracted, and yet he could not say that she
gave him any encouragement. She was interested in his conversation, for
he was better informed and talked better than his brother officers, but
had she discovered his devoted admiration? They reached a spot near the
coast almost on the summit of one of the lofty cliffs which form
ramparts in most parts around the island, and from whence the ground
slopes inwards in gradual declivities towards the green and grassy
centre. The whole island, which is of a rough circular form, lay in
sight. A line of fortifications crowned an opposite height overlooking
the sea on one side, and a wide extent of country, consisting of
undulating downs and verdant fields, in which countless cattle were
feeding, with the numerous houses of the planters embosomed in trees on
the other. In the north-west the town of Saint John's was clearly seen;
while here and there, some of the many deep creeks and bays which indent
the coastline could be distinguished running far inland, several
swelling into estuaries and others forming commodious harbours. Isles
and islets of all shapes and sizes lay scattered off the shore, and far
away towards the west the islands of Guadaloupe, Montserrat, Nevis, and
Saint Kitt's, rose out of the blue ocean.
"What a perfect Arcadian scene!" said Alick, as he and his companion
gazed over the smiling landscape.
"And the Arcadians are kept in proper order by yonder frowning
batteries," remarked Stella, pointing to the line of fortifications.
"Until free and enlightened governments are established throughout the
globe, we cannot hope to find a true Arcadia. How many a lovely region
such as that now spread out before us has suddenly become the scene of
rapine and bloodshed!"
"But those batteries are intended to defend not to overawe the
inhabitants, and wherever the glorious flag of England waves, there, at
all events, we may hope to find true liberty and peace," answered Alick.
"I would, then, that the flag of England were waving now over the whole
world," said Stella, with an involuntary sigh; "I long for peace and
rest, but since those who have the power are supine or indifferent to
the sufferings of their fellow-creatures, it must be left to individuals
to attempt the task of redressing the wronged, and restoring freedom to
the oppressed."
Alick was puzzled what to answer. He guessed that Stella was alluding
to her father's schemes for regenerating the world. As far as he
understood them, from the few remarks the colonel had let drop, they
were, he considered, utterly hopeless, but he could not tell Stella so.
One thing, however, he discovered that though her enthusiasm and love
for her father had made her warmly enter into his views, she was a true
woman at heart, and as really feminine as he could desire. Alick
changed the subject, and soon interested her with a description of his
Highland home and the Western islands of Scotland. He fancied as they
rode back that her manner had become softer when she addressed him than
at first, and that she listened more willingly to him than to any of the
other officers. At all events, he enjoyed a happiness in her company he
had never before known, though he could not at times forget that in a
few days they must be parted, and that the chances of meeting again were
very small.
English Harbour is not so much liked by midshipmen as by gunroom
officers and captains, the former having shorter leave and smaller
purses, not being able to get away so often to amuse themselves in the
capital on the other side of the island as their superiors.
Mr Houghton, a friend of Colonel O'Regan, had come on board to take
luncheon with the midshipmen, as had Alick Gordon.
"I vote we take a cruise this afternoon," exclaimed Tom. "Mr Houghton,
you were saying that you wished to go down to Falmouth Harbour, and Mr
Cherry will, I daresay, lend us the pinnace. It is only about two miles
to leeward, and we can beat back again in time to land you for your
dinner-hour."
Mr Houghton accepted the invitation. Tom forthwith went to the first
lieutenant, with whom he was a favourite, to ask for the boat.
"You may have her, youngster," was the answer; "but keep a look-out for
squalls; they are apt to come off the shore without warning, and you may
be capsized in a moment if you are not on your guard."
"Thank you, sir, we will take great care," answered Tom, returning to
the berth to report the success of his mission.
Mr Jennings, the lieutenant of marines, hearing that they were going,
begged to accompany them. Desmond, Archy, and Norris, McTavish, the
assistant-surgeon, and the captain's clerk, made up the party, with two
men to look after the boat while they were on shore.
The wind was light, the sea smooth, and with all sail set before the
breeze they ran down the coast. In a short time they arrived at their
destination, and, as the weather was hot and they had not much time to
spare, they amused themselves on the beach while Mr Houghton went up to
pay his visit. He was not long absent, and on his return they at once
shoved off and stood to the southward, hoping to find more wind at a
distance from the shore. They were a merry party, and as usual stories
were told and songs sung. They had made several tacks, but as yet had
got not more than half way back to the ship.
"We will go about again," said Norris, who was at the helm. "At all
events inshore we shall feel less of the current which drifts us to
leeward almost as fast as we beat to windward."
The boat was put about, and once more headed in towards the land, which
was about two miles distant.
"Now McTavish, give us one of your Scotch songs," exclaimed Lieutenant
Jennings; "the `Laird of Cockpen,' or something of that sort."
McTavish, who though he had not much of a voice, contrived to make his
songs popular by the humour he threw into his tone, had sung about a
stave or so, and Norris and the rest of the party, with laughing
countenances, while listening to his song, forgot Mr Cherry's caution.
The boat had been gliding smoothly on, when suddenly over she heeled.
Norris, putting down the helm, shouted out--
"Let go the halyards!" but before a hand could reach the cleats her
gunwale was under water.
"We are going over," cried Norris. "Up to windward all of you." Saying
this he sprang to the weather side, and the rest followed his example:
though they could not right her, yet she went over so slowly that they
all had time to scramble up on her side before her canvas touched the
water. The sails being flattened aft assisted to support her, and
prevent her from going right over. For the first moment all believed
that she would sink and leave them alone on the surface. Fortunately,
however, her ballast consisted of breakers of water which, not being
secured, floated out.
"Come, at all events we have something to hold on to," said Tom, "and
now we must try and right the boat."
"Who has got a knife?"
Every person felt in his pockets, but no knife could be found. The
seamen, strange to say, had come away without theirs; they and the
midshipmen attempted to cast off the sheets, but the side of the boat to
which they were made fast being under water could not be reached. For
some time no one spoke; at the distance they were from the ship they
could not hope to have been seen.
"Is there no chance of our drifting on shore?" asked Norris at length.
"I am afraid not," answered Mr Houghton. "The current sets away from
the land, and we shall be carried farther and farther from it."
They looked anxiously around for a sail, on the chance that she might
pass near them. Not one was to be seen standing towards the land.
Again a desperate attempt was made to right the boat.
"If we had but a knife we could do it," cried Tom. "I will never again
step into a boat without one."
"We shall be fortunate if we have the opportunity," observed McTavish.
"There is but little chance of our being picked up, and as to any of us
reaching the shore that seems impossible."
No answer was made to his remark. The squall which had capsized the
boat was succeeded by others. The weather was evidently changing for
the worse, and the boat drifting farther and farther from the land.
Their prospects were dreary in the extreme, indeed almost hopeless. The
gunwale of the boat on which they were seated was only six inches out of
the water, so that should a sea get up they might all quickly be washed
away.
Norris felt very unhappy, as he had been at the helm. "I hope that you
fellows will forgive me," he said. "I little expected the boat to
capsize so suddenly, though I ought to have kept a better look-out."
"Don't talk about it," answered Tom. "It was as much our fault as
yours. We have each of us much to ask forgiveness for if we were to
count up old scores."
"Mr Jennings, I hope you will forgive me for capsizing you in the gale
when we were coming out from England."
"Of course, youngster," he answered gravely; "I have not thought about
it since."
"Thank you, sir," said Tom, as if his mind had been relieved of a
burden.
"I hope old Scrofton won't be thinking about the tricks we have played
him."
"I was just after thinking that I wish he may not ill-treat Spider,"
cried Desmond; "I don't know what the poor baste will do without us."
"What we have to do is to forgive all others from the bottom of our
hearts," remarked Archy. "We need not trouble ourselves what they will
think or say of us."
Archy, who was a true Christian, made several other fitting remarks,
clearly pointing out to his companions the only way by which they could
be prepared for the new existence into which there seemed every
probability they would soon have to enter.
"It's a grievous thought, my friends, that we do not all so live that we
may be fit at any moment to die," he observed calmly.
Few of those present failed to agree with him, and for the time, at all
events, to wish that they were as well prepared as he appeared to be.
Again they were all silent for some minutes.
"Something must be done!" exclaimed Tom, who had been thinking over the
matter, and in his own mind had resolved what to do.
"It's too far for any of us to swim to shore," observed Mr Jennings; "I
would try it, but I never could keep afloat five minutes together."
"I, too, am a miserable swimmer," sighed Mr Houghton. "Besides which,
the sharks would take good care not to allow one of us to reach the
shore," he added, in a whisper.
Neither of the seamen could swim, and McTavish, the only other grown man
of the party, had had very little practice either.
"Well, then," exclaimed Tom, "I will try it! My brother Jack swam on
shore when the _Racer_ was wrecked in the Mediterranean, and was the
means of saving the lives of many of the people; I am not a much worse
swimmer than he was then; I feel sure that I could do it if I had a
companion. It's a long way to go alone through the silent water."
"Faith! I would go with you," cried Desmond, "but I am afraid that I
should keep you back rather than help you forward."
Archy Gordon, who had sat silent during the discussion, suddenly
exclaimed, "I am not so good a swimmer as you are, Tom, but I see no
other way of saving our lives, and if I go down I shall at all events be
doing my duty."
"Thank you, Archy," said Tom; "I accept your offer, and will do my best
to help you along."
Had any other means offered, the rest of the party would not have
allowed the young midshipmen to run so fearful a hazard of their lives.
Mr Houghton, especially, knew well the danger they would encounter from
the sharks, but he said nothing to damp their courage.
Archy at once began to get ready. Taking off his shoes and jacket, he
gave them to McTavish, and begged him to preserve them for him.
Tom followed his example, though not, indeed, with the same careful
spirit as his friend; he threw his jacket and shoes into the water.
They both kept on their socks, which were providentially coloured, as
well as the rest of their clothes.
"Good-bye, old fellows," said Tom; "we must lose no more time." And he
and Archy shook hands with all round. "Now, Archy, we will start, and
strike out bravely." Tom suiting the action to the word slipped into
the water, Archy did the same. On they went, keeping alongside each
other. Archy found that he could swim better than he had expected, and
he and Tom cheered up each other.
"I wish Gerald had been with us," said Tom. "Our chances of escape are
better than those on the wreck."
Now and then they turned on their backs, resting for a little; striking
out, however, with their arms and legs, so that they still made headway.
Tom, under his brother's instructions, had become a first-rate swimmer,
and for his age was wonderfully muscular; so that he was able to go on
steadily without feeling exhausted. Archy, though taller and bigger,
from having had less practice, more quickly began to feel fatigued. The
shore seemed a long way off; still they had already, they saw, not a
considerable distance from the boat, for they could scarcely distinguish
her as she floated just above the surface. Tom thought that they must
be a mile from the shore. Again they threw themselves on their backs,
pushing on with their feet and keeping their arms moving round and
round. When Tom looked back, he could no longer see the boat; he did
not, however, tell Archy of this, he could not help fearing that she had
sunk.
"Are you rested, Archy?" he asked.
"Yes!" was the answer, though not in quite so confident a tone as Tom
would have liked.
"Well, then, on we go again," said Tom, and they swam steadily forward
as before. Scarcely a minute after this, as Tom cast his eye on one
side, what was his horror to observe the fin and back of a huge shark,
scarcely more than a fathom from him. The monster shot by. "I only
hope it is steering a different course to ours," thought Tom. Just then
he caught sight of the wicked eye of another at the same distance,
following in the wake of the first. He did not tell Archy what he had
seen, for fear of unnerving him, while he kept striking out with might
and main, letting his feet rise higher than he would otherwise have done
for the sake of creating a splash, and shouting as he swam on--
"Strike away, Archy. Bravo! We are getting on famously."
Archy in the meantime was doing his best, though his legs and arms began
to ache; still he resolved, as long as his strength would hold out, to
persevere. At length he felt that he could do no more.
"Go on, Tom," said he faintly. "Make the best of your way on shore and
get help for the poor fellows, I will follow as fast as I can."
"No! no!" answered Tom, "I am not going to desert you, come rest your
head on my chest. It will help you wonderfully, just consider me a
piece of cork, you know I float like one, only keep your legs kicking
and your arms moving smartly."
Tom did not tell Archy why he gave this advice, but he knew very well
that if they were to remain quiet for an instant the cowardly sharks
would make a dart at them, and that only by splashing vigorously could
they keep off the monsters. He himself did so with his legs and one
hand, while he placed the other under his friend's back. Archy felt his
strength much restored after this rest, and declared himself ready to go
on again. On they went once more. Though they were certain that they
had made good way, still the shore appeared fearfully far off, as they
gazed at it with eyes growing somewhat dim from fatigue.
Archy exerted himself more than he would before have considered
possible, but once more a faintness came over him.
"Oh! Tom, I am sinking, don't wait for me, you will soon reach the
shore now," he cried out.
Tom, however, approaching with a couple of strokes, seized him, and once
more placed his head on his chest, striking furiously with his own feet;
for the instant before he had seen another shark, and the monster seemed
eyeing him as if about to make a grab at his arms and legs.
"Keep your feet kicking out, as I told you before," he exclaimed. "You
will not sink, and it will keep them from getting the cramp. Kick,
Archy! Kick!"
Archy could with difficulty do so, still he felt a great relief to his
arms, and suddenly his strength again seemed to return.
"I will go on now," he said, turning once more round, and he and Tom
swam on together as before, with their eyes fixed on the shore. Each
time that Archy felt faint he was aroused by Tom's encouraging cries,
and nerved himself to fresh exertions. How anxiously they strained
their eyes ahead! the shore grew more and more distinct, and yet it
seemed a long way off. At length they could distinguish the sandy beach
and the green herbage beyond. Again Archy's strength began to fail him.
Near as was the shore, he felt that he might not, after all, be able to
reach it. His sensations were those of a person in a dreadful dream.
Even Tom began to feel his strength almost exhausted. Archy once more
cried out that he was sinking. That moment Tom felt his feet touch
something; a horror for an instant seized him. It might be the back of
a shark; still on he struck, towing Archy. Again his feet touched
something below him; it did not yield. He tried again. Yes, he was,
sure; it was firm ground.
"Hurrah, Archy! we are on shore at last," he cried out. "Let your feet
fall, and you will find I am right."
"Thank God!" answered Archy, as his feet also touched the sand.
Happily the sea was smooth, and there was no outdrift. Even then Archy
felt that he could scarcely reach the beach. Tom gave him his hand,
exclaiming--
"Come on; we have not far to go now, at all events."
They waded on. Gradually the water shoaled as they made their way up
the shelving sand. Tom felt his strength returning, hot Archy could
with difficulty make headway. Now the water reached only to their
middles; now it was scarcely knee-deep, and they were able to get on
faster. Tom breathed more freely, for he expected to see Archy drop
every instant. Scarcely, indeed, had they reached the dry sand than
down he sank. Toot threw himself by his side.
"Cheer up, Archy; we are safe," he exclaimed. "Don't give way now."
"I shall be better soon," said Archy; "but oh! Tom, let us return
thanks to Him who has preserved us. Don't let us fancy it was our own
strength. I never otherwise could have done it, I know."
"I am thankful--indeed I am; but we must not forget our companions."
"Go, and try to get a boat, and put off to them; I will follow you as
soon as I am able to."
It was already getting dusk, and the gloom was increased by thick clouds
gathering in the sky, betokening a blowing night. Tom saw, indeed, that
no time was to be lost, and, finding that Archy could not yet move, he
unwillingly left him, and hurried off to obtain assistance.
We must now return on board the _Plantagenet_. When Mr Cherry found
that the boat did not make her appearance, as it was long past the time
the midshipmen promised to be back, he felt somewhat annoyed, and made
up his mind that the next time they asked for the boat they should not
have her.
He was walking the deck, when the quartermaster announced that a boat
had come off from the shore with a black in her, who had something to
say about a pinnace, but what it was he could not exactly make out.
"Let him come on deck at once," said Mr Cherry, hurrying to the
gangway.
"What is it you have to say, my man?" he asked.
The negro doffed his hat, twisting and wriggling about, apparently
either from nervousness at finding himself on board a man-of-war, or
from his anxiety to deliver his message properly.
Mr Cherry, however, managed to make out that a boat had been capsized,
that two midshipmen had swum on shore, and that they had gone off again
in two boats to search for the wreck.
Just then Jack and Terence, who had been on shore, returned, and, on
cross-questioning the black, they felt satisfied that Tom and Archy
Gordon were the two midshipmen who had reached the shore, and that those
remaining on the wreck were in extreme peril.
The report of what had happened quickly spread through the ship, and
every one felt anxious about their shipmates.
Four boats were immediately manned, Jack and Terence each taking command
of one, Higson going in a third, and Mr Scrofton having charge of the
fourth. The first ready having called alongside the _Tudor_ to give the
information, two of her boats were immediately despatched to aid in the
search. The weather in the meantime, as night advanced, grew worse and
worse. Down came a deluge of rain, while vivid lightning darted from
the sky; the wind, too, had been rising, and as they got outside the
harbour they found a considerable sea running.
Each officer was to take the direction he judged best. Before shoving
off the boatswain got the black, who brought the information, into his
boat, and pumping him learnt exactly whereabouts the pinnace had
capsized, while he also ascertained the direction in which the current
ran.
It might seem an easy thing to fall in with a boat which had capsized
scarcely a mile off; but some hours had elapsed since the accident had
occurred, and during all that time she must have drifted for a
considerable distance. The direction in which she had gone also could
be calculated only by those who knew exactly the set and rate of the
current. Jack and Terence went away fully believing that they should
before long fall in with the wreck; their only fear was that those left
on it might have been washed off, or, succumbing to fatigue, have
dropped into the water. The thunder rattled and the lightning flashed
over head. Between the intervals they often fancied they could hear the
voices of their shipmates hailing them; sometimes, too, through the
gloom they imagined that they could see the boat on her side, with a few
still clinging to her; but when they got up to the spot, she was not
there. Though Terence hoped to find all the party, he naturally felt
most anxious on account of Gerald Desmond.
"I ought to have thought of the risks he would have had to run," he said
to himself. "To be sure I got into a good many scrapes and tumbled out
of them, and I hope he may. I cannot bear the thoughts of having to
write to my poor sister, and to tell her that her boy is lost."
Still the boats continued searching in every direction; the wind blowing
fresh, and the foaming seas hissing round them. There was little hope,
indeed, that they should find those they were looking for, though the
boat herself might by chance be fallen in with some time or other.
Mr Scrofton, meantime, who, though a bad philosopher, was a thorough
seaman, had run down at about the distance from the shore he understood
the pinnace had been when capsized. He had, however, passed the spot,
according to his calculations, some way, no sign of the wreck having
been seen, when a hail was heard.
"There they are! hurrah!" cried some of the men.
"No, no; that came from a boat. I see her."
"What boat is that?" asked Mr Scrofton.
"A shore-boat, and I am Tom Rogers," was the answer.
The boats were soon alongside each other. Tom said that as soon as he
could procure a boat he had shoved off, and that Archy Gordon had done
the same--he was at no great distance in another boat.
"You don't expect to find her hereabouts," said Mr Scrofton. "She will
have been carried according to my calculation, four or it may be five
miles more to the southward by this time, and it will take us the best
part of an hour before we are up to her. My plan is to run down that
distance, or more than that, and then to beat back. It's better to go
rather beyond her than a little short, and if she is still floating we
shall fall in with her."
Tom saw the wisdom of this plan, and the two boats stood on in company,
a bright look-out being kept on either side. They had run on for some
time when Tom thought that they must have gone far enough, but the
boatswain persevered. Tom's boat being manned by blacks he had nothing
to do but look out. Fully half-an-hour had passed, when he thought he
saw an object ahead. He hailed Mr Scrofton's boat.
"All right!" was the answer, "I see her."
"Let go the halyards," cried the boatswain, and the sails were lowered,
but as they approached great was Tom's sorrow to see only five people
clinging to the boat. Mr Houghton and Lieutenant Jennings were among
them, but he could not distinguish Gerald Desmond.
"Poor fellow, he must have gone," he murmured.
"Where are the rest?" asked Mr Scrofton, as the boat ran alongside, and
eager hands were stretched out to lift the sufferers on board, for they
could with difficulty help themselves. "We are glad to see you,
though."
"They had not left us five minutes before we saw you," answered Mr
Jennings; "they cannot as yet be many hundred yards off."
Tom immediately pulled away towards the shore in the direction the
swimmers must have taken. He knew that though the time was short they
might have all sunk, or that the ravenous sharks might have got hold of
them. Nothing but despair, indeed, would have induced them to make the
attempt.
Great was his relief on seeing at length four heads above the surface,
with their faces directed landward. So intent were they, indeed, that
they were not aware of his approach. Each one had lashed himself to an
oar with the faint hope, though they had but little notion, of swimming,
of gaining the shore. Tom's shout was the first intimation they had of
his escape, for they all had given him and Archy up as lost.
Desmond was the first helped on board, and great was their delight at
meeting. Highly satisfied with the success of his expedition, Mr
Scrofton received all the party on board, promising the blacks in the
shore-boat a further reward if they would tow the pinnace towards the
shore. He then, with the rescued party, made the best of his way back
to the ship, happily soon afterwards falling in with Archy Gordon; whose
boat, while he was taken on board, was sent to assist the other
shore-boat.
Captain Hemming, who felt very anxious on their account, was too glad to
get them back to find fault. Tom and Archy received the praise which
was their due for their gallant act, while Mr Scrofton was properly
complimented by the captain for his sagacity and judgment, and the
midshipmen resolved never more to attempt to quiz him about his
philosophical notions.
Jack and Terence did not get back till daylight, when they found that
Tom and Gerald had been snug in their hammocks for several hours. They
felt somewhat inclined to quarrel with them for the trouble they had
given, though in reality heartily thankful that they had escaped.