"I will take the lads we picked up the other day; they are sharp
fellows, especially one of them, and may be useful."
Owen and Nat were summoned and ordered to get into the boat with the
other men, among whom was Mike Coffey. Owen was well pleased to have
been selected by Mr Leigh.
"We shall be out of the way, too, of that midshipman Mr Ashurst,"
observed Nat. "He is a regular bully when he has the chance."
On reaching the deck of the prize, however, what was their
disappointment to find that Mr Ashurst had gone on board her in one of
the other boats. He looked hard at Owen as he came up the side.
"Who sent you here, boy?" he asked.
"I was ordered to come," answered Owen, touching his hat.
"Well, look out, and see that you behave yourself," said the midshipman,
as he walked away.
Owen felt a sickening sensation as he looked along the decks of the
prize. Those of the "Sylvia" had been bad enough. These, although the
dead and wounded had been removed, were still covered in every direction
with blood, while they were thickly strewed with shattered spars,
fragments of bulwarks, blocks, pieces of rope, and torn sails, while
from below came up cries and groans of the wounded, either waiting to
have their hurts dressed or already in the surgeon's hands. As the
frigates were at the time not far from the coast of Celebes, every
effort was made to repair the more serious damages, in order to enable
them to haul off the shore before nightfall. The first thing to be done
was to get up a fore jury mast. Rather more than a third of the French
crew still remained on board the prize; but as all hands were required
for this work, Mr Leigh waited to send them away until it had been
accomplished. Most of them, indeed, appeared willing to lend their
help. It was nightfall, however, before sail could once more be made on
the frigate. By that time it came on to blow very hard, and the sea
getting up, made it dangerous for the boats to pass to and fro. Captain
Stanhope, therefore, sent word to Mr Leigh to retain the remainder of
the prisoners, and should the frigates get parted, to steer for Marrack,
the nearest port on the Java coast where shelter could be found. The
fort protecting the harbour had a short time before been captured by
Lieutenant Lyons with two boats' crews. The captain's last directions
to Lieutenant Leigh were to keep a sharp look-out on his prisoners. The
wind increased, and the night became very dark. The English crew
remained on deck, but most of the Frenchmen went below. All the sail
the frigate could carry was set, but it soon became evident that she was
making little or no way off the shore.
Captain Stanhope had directed Mr Leigh to keep the lead going, and to
anchor should the prize drift into shoal water. He accordingly ordered
the cables to be ranged ready for that emergency. Owen had been
actively engaged the whole day, and Mr Leigh had employed him to carry
orders to the different parties at work. Soon after nightfall the
"Sylvia" was lost sight of; as, for her own safety, she had been
compelled to get a good offing, Captain Stanhope not being willing to
run the risk of anchoring on a lee shore. His intention was, however,
to stand in the next morning and rejoin the prize. Had the wind been
but moderate, the "Venus" would have run but little risk. Blowing,
however, heavily, as it now did, Mr Leigh could not help acknowledging
that they were in considerable danger. Though under reduced sail, she
fortunately stayed very easily. The lieutenant, therefore, did not
hesitate to go about as often as he considered necessary. A look-out
was kept for the land, and every time she tacked the lead was hove, but
as no bottom had yet been found, it was hoped she might yet be a
considerable distance from it. The French crew had remained quietly
below, one or two only occasionally coming on deck, apparently to
ascertain the position of the ship.
Strange that even at this time of peril Mr Ashurst should have treated
Owen in his usual tyrannical manner. He never met him without uttering
a word of abuse. Two or three times he took up a rope's end and struck
him, declaring that he was idling or not obeying orders. At last Owen
could bear it no longer.
"You are perfectly well aware, Mr Ashurst, that you have no right to
treat me thus," he said in a firm voice. "You are placing yourself in
my power, for were I to complain of you, you would be punished. I have
no wish to do that, but I must beg that you will desist."
"Who are you, to speak like this to me?" exclaimed the midshipman,
apparently astonished at Owen's language and manner.
"Were I your inferior in birth and education I should have a perfect
right to expostulate," said Owen.
"In birth--in birth and education! You, a contemptible ship's boy, put
yourself on an equality with a nobleman's son!" exclaimed Ashurst.
"I am not placing myself on an equality, for I am not a nobleman's son,
but I am the son of a gentleman, and have received a gentleman's
education, and have, I hope, the feelings of one," answered Owen, his
temper rising in a way he found it difficult to quell; "all, however, I
insist on is that you should not strike or abuse me, for by so doing, as
you well know, you are acting contrary to the articles of war."
"A young sea lawyer, are you!" cried Ashurst. "Look out for squalls
when we get on board the frigate again."
"Has it occurred to you, Mr Ashurst, that if this gale continues we may
never get there?" asked Owen, feeling suddenly prompted to put the
question. "We have a wild rocky coast under our lee, and should the
anchors fail to hold, we may, before morning, be cast on it with little
hope of any one on board escaping."
"Who told you that?" asked Ashurst, in a changed tone.
"My own sense and observation," answered Owen. "When Mr Leigh sent me
into the cabin this afternoon, I examined the Frenchman's chart, which
lay open on the table, and I saw the sort of coast we are off. I do not
wish to alarm you, nor any one else, but I only tell you what I know to
be the state of the case."
"Does Mr Leigh think the same?" inquired Ashurst, in the same tone he
would have used to an equal.
"I have no doubt he does, but of course he would not tell the crew until
it was absolutely necessary to do so; unless he had foreseen that we
should probably have to anchor he would not have ordered the cables to
be ranged."
"I hope things are not so bad as you think, Hartley," observed Ashurst,
although, at the same time, his voice belied his words. Without
apologising to Owen, he walked away in a very different manner to that
he had just before assumed.
"It is a great shame that that midshipman should treat you as he does,"
said Nat. "Although he is civil enough now, he will be as bad as ever
before long, and I have made up my mind what to do."
"You'd better not interfere, Nat," said Owen. "The officers probably
would not listen to you, and you would only get yourself into bad
odour."
Nat did not exactly understand what that meant, but he did not mind
doing anything which might benefit Owen. By midnight the gale had
increased considerably, and the English crew, in addition to their
previous exertions--having to work hard at the pumps--were almost
worn-out. It was difficult, therefore, to spare hands to keep a proper
look-out on the French prisoners.
Mr Leigh, calling Owen, sent him below to ascertain what they were
about.
"I must get the fellows to take their spell at the pumps, if not, their
lives will be sacrificed as well as ours."
This last remark Owen did not hear, although the same idea had occurred
to him.
Supposing him to be an ordinary ship's boy, who had come among them for
curiosity, the prisoners took little notice of him. The greater number
were collected together in the fore-part of the lower deck. Some were
playing cards, others with dice or dominoes. Some were lying down,
others singing snatches of songs, talking and laughing, appearing to
have forgotten altogether that they were prisoners. One group, composed
chiefly, it seemed, of petty officers and able seamen, were standing
together, engaged in more earnest conversation.
Owen, as he had been directed to do, stood by, counting their numbers,
concealed by the foremast from the last-mentioned group. Taking no
notice of Owen the Frenchmen continued their conversation. He was on
the point of going away to report that the prisoners seemed very quiet,
when he caught some words which made him listen with more attention.
Although not accustomed to hear French spoken by Frenchmen, he had
frequently read and talked French with his mother, and was well
acquainted with the ordinary phrases in use. The Frenchmen went on.
They spoke of the danger the ship was in. That before long she must
anchor, when probably half the crew would lie down to rest, while the
other half would be kept at the pumps. They appeared to know the coast;
there were several islands abreast where they then were, with channels
between them. Their intention was to master the English crew, cut the
cables, and, making sail by dawn, to run through one of these channels,
where the "Venus" might lie completely concealed. They would then have
time to repair damages, and as soon as the English frigate had gone
away, supposing her prize to be lost, they might make their escape.
Only two French officers, however, remained on board who understood
navigation, and they must be gained over. This the French boatswain
undertook to do. Some thought their officers would not agree to the
plan.
"Then they must be forced to do so," answered the boatswain; "we will
make them prisoners as well as the English, or heave them all overboard
together."
"That would be dangerous," remarked another, "for should we be retaken,
they would hang us."
"The fortune of war, my friend," answered the boatswain; "remain where
you are, that the English may see that you are amusing yourselves, while
I pay a visit to our lieutenant and the young Aspirante. They surely
will not refuse to enter into our plan."
Owen waited some time longer, but finding that he was not likely to gain
any further information he stole sway, concealed by the darkness, from
where he had been standing, unperceived, as he hoped, by any of the
prisoners. The boatswain, he believed, had not yet gone aft, he
therefore hastened to report what he had heard to Mr Leigh.
"This is important information you have brought me," observed Lieutenant
Leigh. "We can easily thwart the Frenchmen's plot, and I doubt whether
their two officers would agree to it. I had no idea you understood
French. The first thing to be done is to send a gang of these fellows
to the pumps. They shall work whether they like it or not."
Calling Mr Stewart, the master's mate, who had accompanied him, Mr
Leigh directed him to take a dozen armed men and to bring up thirty of
the French crew. "If they refuse, let them understand that they will be
placed in irons. Hartley, accompany Mr Stewart, and tell the Frenchmen
why they are wanted."
The order was speedily put into execution. The Frenchmen grumbled, but
as they had been deprived of all their weapons they could make no
resistance, and the number required were marched up to the main deck.
The French boatswain and several of his companions were greatly
astonished, shortly afterwards, to find themselves handcuffed by another
party of English seamen accompanied by their officers.
"You deserve it, you rascals," said the French lieutenant. "Did you
suppose we should break our word of honour, and join you in your
villainous plot?"
The greater number of the prisoners were now kept at the pumps, with the
exception of those in irons and attending to the sick. In vain they
expostulated. They could not deny that they intended to try and
recapture the ship. The English crew were thus greatly relieved, and a
portion were enabled to lie down and obtain the rest they so much
required.
Thus night wore on, and as yet no sign of land had been discovered.
Again the lead was hove. It gave twenty fathoms, shortly afterwards
fifteen; and at the same moment, during a lull in the gale, the roar of
breakers on a rocky shore could be heard.
Mr Leigh instantly gave the order to prepare for anchoring. The canvas
was quickly taken in and the anchor let go. This was the moment the
Frenchmen had intended to carry their plot into execution. The English
officers, with a party of men, well armed, kept watch on them, and
deprived of their leaders they dared not make the attempt. It was now a
question whether the anchor would hold. A second had been got ready to
let go if necessary, and the French lieutenant undertook, should they
part from that, to pilot the frigate through one of the channels of
which the boatswain had spoken, where she could remain in safety until
the gale was over.
"I will trust you," said Mr Leigh, shaking him by the hand. "You have
proved yourself a man of honour."
Notwithstanding the promised assistance of the French lieutenant, Mr
Leigh felt considerable anxiety as to what might be the fate of the
frigate. The French crew might still rise and attempt to retake the
prize should they find themselves at a distance from the "Sylvia." The
coast, too, was dangerous in the extreme, and it might be found
impossible to reach the channel through which it was proposed to pass.
Before sail could be made the frigate might be driven on the rocks under
her lee, or the sails, if set, might be blown to tatters before she
could again be brought to an anchor. With forebodings of evil,
Lieutenant Leigh paced the deck. The night passed slowly away; when
morning dawned the "Sylvia" was nowhere to be seen. The gale blew as
furiously as ever. Captain Stanhope, in the crippled state to which his
ship had been reduced by the action, although she had suffered much less
than her opponent, had evidently considered it his duty to keep off the
shore. "I should have done the same," thought Mr Leigh. "He would
have risked the `Sylvia's' safety by coming to our assistance. It was
right to leave us to our fate."
Although a long scope of cable had been run out, the "Venus" rode
uneasily over the heavy seas which came rolling in. Now she rose, now
she pitched into them, as they passed under her, while the spray in
thick showers broke over her bows.
Still the stout cable held, although the lieutenant cast many an anxious
look astern, where little more than a quarter of a mile away the
breakers burst with a continual roar on the rock-bound coast. They
could distinguish the entrance to the passage some distance to the
northward, but even had all the masts of the "Venus" been standing, and
a strong crew been ready to make sail, the difficulty of gaining it
would have been very great. Should the French prisoners have succeeded
in carrying out their design, the frigate would have been cast away.
The fate of the wounded would have been certain, and few of those on
board would have escaped.
Ashurst still continued his ill-treatment of Owen. Nat saw him again
strike him.
"It is the last time he shall do that," exclaimed Nat, who was a witness
of what took place.
Without speaking to Owen, he hurried aft to where Mr Leigh was
standing.
"Please, sir, I've something to say to you," said Nat, touching his hat.
"What is it, boy?" asked the lieutenant, concluding that Nat had to give
him some information regarding the conduct of the French prisoners.
"Are the fellows down below inclined to be mutinous?"
"I don't think so, sir," answered Nat; "but what I want to say is about
Mr Owen Hartley, who first found out their plot and saved us all from
having our throats cut. He is a gentleman, sir, and came out with us as
a passenger on board the `Druid,' and I think, sir, if this had been
known, he would not have been sent forward amongst us boys. Mr
Scoones, our first mate, who pretended to be the captain, knows it as
well as I do, but he had a spite against Mr Hartley, and so declared
that he was a ship's boy, and allowed him to be rated as such on board
the `Sylvia.' Mike Coffey, who belonged to the old ship, will tell you,
sir, that what I say is true."
"I am ready to believe what you say, and when we return on board the
frigate I will speak to the captain on the subject. But what makes you
come up now to say this? I wish that you had given me the information
before."
"Please, sir, Mr Hartley didn't wish me to do that," answered Nat, "but
I could stand it no longer when I saw, every hour in the day, Mr
Ashurst knocking him about and abusing him as if he were a dog. He
won't complain himself, so I made up my mind to complain for him, for I
was sure you would not allow Mr Ashurst to behave in that way if you
knew it."
"Certainly not, my lad," answered the lieutenant, who, not standing on
his dignity or resenting the unusual conduct of a boy for presuming to
bring a complaint against a midshipman, respected Nat for his boldness
and eagerness to protect his friend. "Send Mr Hartley aft to me, but
do not let Mr Ashurst discover that you have complained of him."
Nat harried forward. As soon as he could find Owen, without saying what
he had done, he told him that Mr Leigh wished to speak with him. Owen
went aft, not knowing what the lieutenant could have to say.
"Hartley," said Mr Leigh, "you appear to be superior to the other boys.
In what capacity were you serving on board the ship in which you were
cast away?"
Owen told him that he had come out as a passenger, but that,
understanding mathematics and the principles of navigation, he had
endeavoured to perfect himself in the science, as also to gain a
knowledge of seamanship, although he had no intention of becoming a
sailor, considering himself bound to return to the office in which he
had been employed. Mr Leigh then questioned him, and learned more
about his history.
"Had Captain Stanhope known this he would, I think, very likely, had you
wished to enter the navy, have placed you on the quarter-deck. I
cannot, of course, alter your rating now, but I will appoint you to act
as my clerk, and I will let Mr Stewart and Mr Ashurst know that you
are to mess with us, and that they are to treat you as a brother
officer."
Owen could scarcely believe his senses when he heard this. How would
Ashurst now behave to him? He himself would not of course refer to the
treatment he had received from the hands of the midshipman, but would
act as if nothing unpleasant had occurred between them. Mr Stewart,
the master's mate, who was an amiable young man, had always treated him
kindly, and would, he was sure, do so now.
It was nearly the dinner hour. "You will come at once into the cabin,"
said Mr Leigh; "there is no reason for delay."
Owen made his way forward, and told Nat what had happened.
Nat, who pretended to look very much surprised, said he was very glad to
hear of Owen's good fortune. "But it's only your due," he added, "and
please for the future remember that you are now in the midshipmen's
berth, and a gentleman, that I am only a ship's boy, and treat me
accordingly."
"I hope, Nat, I shall always treat you as a true friend, for such you
have been to me," said Owen.
There was no time to lose. Owen managed to wash his hands and brush his
hair, so that he might appear as neat as possible.
Mr Stewart had the watch, but Ashurst was in the cabin. He looked hard
at Owen as he entered, supposing that he had come to receive some
orders, or to wait at table. The two French officers were about to take
their seats.
"I am glad to see you, Hartley," said Mr Leigh, when he came in.
Ashurst stared, and the colour rose to his brow.
"Messieurs," said Mr Leigh, turning to the French officers, "I beg to
introduce this young gentleman to you. Ashurst, I now make him known to
you as I intend to employ him as my clerk, and he will soon become your
messmate, for I have little doubt, if he wishes it, when we return to
the frigate, that Captain Stanhope will place him as a midshipman on the
quarter-deck."
The first impulse of Ashurst on hearing this was to get up from the
table, but he sat down again and fixed his eyes on Owen without saying a
word. Owen, who at first felt somewhat strange at being thus suddenly
introduced into the society of gentlemen, soon recovered himself, and
behaved as might have been expected. He addressed Mr Leigh with
freedom but perfect propriety, and spoke to the French officers in their
own language. Although the eldest understood a little English, yet he
expressed himself with difficulty in it.
Whenever Ashurst looked at him it was with a frown on his brow. He did
not once speak to him, even though Mr Leigh attempted to make him do
so. The dinner was got over rapidly, for it was not a time when the
commanding officer could be long absent from the deck. The weather
continued as before. So great was the strain on the cable that it
appeared every instant ready to part. Hands were stationed at the
stoppers of the second, ready to let it go should the first fail.
Owen had been sent into the cabin to make out some lists from notes
which Mr Leigh gave him, the French lieutenant having supplied him with
writing materials for the purpose.
Mr Leigh called Ashurst, who was on deck, to come to him.
"I am surprised at your conduct to young Hartley," he said. "I have
myself observed it, and I should have supposed, now that I have thought
fit to place him on the quarter-deck, that you would have welcomed him
as a messmate. He is gentlemanly and well-informed, and I have no doubt
that he is, as he states, a gentleman by birth."
"Pretenders often assume good manners when they have an object in doing
so," answered Ashurst, in a scornful tone; "he appeared as a ship's boy,
and I treated him as such, and made him do his duty."
"You may have bullied others, but you have shown a special ill-feeling
towards this lad," answered Mr Leigh, feeling annoyed at the manner in
which the midshipman spoke. "In future I beg that you will treat him as
an equal."
"An equal, indeed! Do you forget, Mr Leigh, that I am the son of a
nobleman, and that he is or was till a few minutes ago, merely a ship's
boy!" exclaimed the midshipman, in a voice which made Mr Leigh almost
smile.
"Had you said that in your berth, you would have been laughed at by all
your messmates," observed Mr Leigh, "Come, come, I cannot listen to
such nonsense. While you remain on board the prize, treat him as I
desire, and when we rejoin the `Sylvia' Captain Stanhope will see to
it." Ashurst walked away, muttering something which Mr Leigh did not
hear. All day long the weather continued the same as before, and night
came on without any signs of an abatement of the gale. The British crew
were well-nigh worn-out. Although the Frenchmen were now compelled to
labour at the pumps, the English took a spell. They had, besides, to
watch the prisoners, and be always on deck ready to let go the anchor
and make sail. Not until morning did the wind begin to fall, although
the sea appeared as heavy as ever. It burst forth again and blew with
greater fury than before. Suddenly the cry arose--
"The cable has parted!"
"Let go the best bower," cried Lieutenant Leigh.
In an instant the stoppers were cut, and the cable ran at a rapid rate,
setting the hawse hole on fire. The danger had been seen, and men stood
ready with buckets of water to heave over it. The cable ran out to its
full range.
"Does the anchor hold, Stewart?" asked the lieutenant.
"Yes, sir, it holds," answered the master's mate.
"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated Mr Leigh.
Before the fresh anchor brought up the ship, she had drifted much nearer
the rocks. Should this cable part her destruction was inevitable.
The gale seemed to have exhausted itself by its last effort, and the
wind now rapidly fell. Still the breakers burst with the same fury as
before under the stern. More anxiously than ever every one on board
waited for daylight.
As soon as it came, the lieutenant ordered all hands to get fresh stays
on the jury mast preparatory to making sail, his intention being, should
the wind come off the shore, to stand away from the coast, in hopes of
falling in with the "Sylvia," and not finding her, at once to steer a
course for Marrack.
At length a light wind began to blow off the land, but it was not
sufficiently strong to make it prudent to cut the cable. Gradually it
increased.
"All hands make sail!" shouted Mr Leigh.
The Frenchmen were as eager as the English crew to hoist away. The
cable was cut and the prize stood off from the dangerous coast.