CHAPTER VII.

SAVED!

"Now let us have a look at the basket, mother," George said as Mrs.

Andrews returned into the room after seeing her two visitors off.

"It's very kind of him, isn't it? and I am glad he didn't offer us

money; that would have been horrid, wouldn't it?"

"I am glad he did not, too, George. Mr. Penrose is evidently a

gentleman of delicacy and refinement of feeling, and he saw that he

would give pain if he did so."

"You see it too, don't you, Bill?" George asked. "You know you thought

I was a fool not to take money when he offered it for getting back the

locket; but you see it in the same way now, don't you?"

"Yes; I shouldn't have liked to take money," Bill said. "I sees----"

"See," Mrs. Andrews corrected.

"Thank you. I see things different--differently," he corrected

himself, seeing that George was about to speak, "to what I did then."

"Now, mother," George said, "let us open the basket; it's almost as

big as a clothes-basket, isn't it?"

The cover was lifted and the contents, which had after much thought

been settled by Nelly herself, were disclosed. There were two bottles

of port-wine, a large mold of jelly, a great cake, two dozen oranges,

some apples, a box of preserved fruit, some almonds and raisins, two

packets of Everton toffee, a dozen mince-pies, and four pots of

black-currant jelly, on the cover of one of which was written in a

sprawling hand, "Two teaspoonfuls stirred up in a tumbler of water for

a drink at night."

"This will make a grand feast, mother; what a jolly collection, isn't

it? I think Miss Penrose must have chosen it herself, don't you?"

"It certainly looks like it, George," Mrs. Andrews replied, smiling.

"I do not think any grownup person would have chosen mince-pies and

toffee as appropriate for sick boys."

"Yes; but she must have known we were not badly burned, mother; and

besides, you see, she put in currant-jelly to make drinks, and there

are the oranges too. I vote that we have an orange and some toffee at

once, Bill."

"I have tasted oranges," Bill said, "lots of them in the market, but I

never tasted toffee."

"It's first-rate, I can tell you."

"Why, they look like bits of tin," Bill said as the packet was opened.

George burst into a laugh.

"That's tin-foil, that's only to wrap it up; you peel that off, Bill,

and you will find the toffee inside. Now, mother, you have a glass of

wine and a piece of cake."

"I will have a piece of cake, George; but I am not going to open the

wine. We will put that by in case of illness or of any very

extraordinary occasion."

"I am glad the other things won't keep, mother, or I expect you would

be wanting to put them all away. Isn't this toffee good, Bill?"

"First-rate," Bill agreed. "What is it made of?"

"Sugar and butter melted together over the fire."

"You are like two children," Mrs. Andrews laughed, "instead of boys

getting on for sixteen years old. Now I must clear this table again

and get to work; I promised these four bonnets should be sent in

to-morrow morning, and there's lots to be done to them yet."

It was three weeks before the boys were able to go to work again. The

foreman came round on Saturdays with their wages. Mr. Penrose called

again; this time they were out, but he chatted for some time with Mrs.

Andrews.

"I don't wish to pry into your affairs, Mrs. Andrews," he said, after

asking about the boys; "but I have a motive for asking if your son

has, as I suppose he has, from his way of speaking, had a fair

education."

"He was at school up to the age of twelve," Mrs. Andrews said quietly;

"circumstances at that time obliged me to remove him; but I have

since done what I could myself towards continuing his education, and

he still works regularly of an evening."

"Why I ask, Mrs. Andrews, was that I should like in time to place him

in the counting-house. I say in time, because I think it will be

better for him for the next two or three years to continue to work in

the shops. I will have him moved from shop to shop so as to learn

thoroughly the various branches of the business. That is what I should

do had I a son of my own to bring into the business. It will make him

more valuable afterwards, and fit him to take a good position either

in my shops or in any similar business should an opening occur."

"I am greatly obliged to you, sir," Mrs. Andrews said gratefully;

"though I say it myself, a better boy never lived."

"I am sure he is by what I have heard of him, and I shall be only too

glad, after the service he has rendered me, to do everything in my

power to push him forward. His friend, I hear, has not had the same

advantages. At the time I first saw him he looked a regular young

arab."

"So he was, sir; but he is a fine young fellow. He was very kind to my

boy when he was alone in London, and gave up his former life to be

with him. George taught him to read before I came here, and he has

worked hard ever since. No one could be nicer in the house than he is,

and had I been his own mother he could not be more dutiful or anxious

to please. Indeed I may say that I am indebted for my home here as

much to him as to my own boy."

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mrs. Andrews, for of course I should

wish to do something for him too. At any rate, I will give him, like

your son, every opportunity of learning the business, and he will in

time be fit for a position of foreman of a shop--by no means a bad one

for a lad who has had such a beginning as he has had. After that, of

course, it must depend upon himself. I think, if you will allow me to

suggest, it would be as well that you should not tell them the nature

of our conversation. Of course it is for you to decide; but, however

steady boys they are, it might make them a little less able to get on

well with their associates in a shop if they know that they are going

to be advanced."

"I don't think it would make any difference to them, sir; but at the

same time I do think it would be as well not to tell them."

One day Bill was out by himself as the men were coming out of the

shop, and he stopped to speak to Bob Grimstone.

"Oh! I am glad to find you without George," Bob said; "'cause I want

to talk to you. Look here! the men in all the shops have made a

subscription to give you and George a present. Everyone feels that

it's your doing that we have not got to idle all this winter, and when

someone started the idea there wasn't a man in the two shops that

didn't agree with him. I am the treasurer, I am, and it's come to

just thirty pounds. Now I don't know what you two boys would like,

whether you would like it in money, or whether you would like it in

something else, so I thought I would ask you first. I thought you

would know what George would like, seeing what friends you are, and

then you know it would come as a surprise to him. Now, what do you

say?"

"Its very kind of you," Bill said. "I am sure George would like

anything better than money, and so should I."

"Well, you think it over, Bill, and let me know in a day or two. We

were thinking of a watch for each of you, with an inscription, saying

it was presented to you by your shopmates for having saved the

factory, and so kept them at work for months just at the beginning of

winter. That's what seemed to me that you would like; but if there is

anything you would like better, just you say so. You come down here

to-morrow or next day, when you have thought it over, and give me an

answer. Of course you can consult George if you think best."

Bill met Bob Grimstone on the following day.

"I have thought it over," he said, "and I know what George and me

would like better than any possible thing you could get."

"Well, what is it, Bill?"

"Well, what we have set our minds on, and what we were going to save

up our money to get, was a piano for George's mother. I heard her say

that we could get a very nice one for about thirty pounds, and it

would be splendid if you were all to give it her."

"Very well, Bill, then a piano it shall be. I know a chap as works at

Kirkman's, and I expect he will be able to give us a good one for the

money."

Accordingly on the Saturday afternoon before the boys were going to

work again, Mrs. Andrews and George were astonished at seeing a cart

stop before the house, and the foreman, Bob Grimstone, and four other

men coming up to the door.

Bill ran and opened the door, and the men entered. He had been

apprised of the time that they might be expected, and at once showed

them in.

"Mrs. Andrews," the foreman said, "I and my mates here are a

deputation from the hands employed in the shop, and we have come to

offer you a little sort of testimonial of what we feel we owe your son

and Bill Smith for putting out the fire and saving the shops. If it

hadn't been for them it would have been a bad winter for us all. So

after thinking it over and finding out what form of testimonial the

lads would like best, we have got you a piano, which we hope you may

live long to play on and enjoy. We had proposed to give them a watch

each; but we found that they would rather that it took the form of a

piano."

"Oh, how good and kind of you all!" Mrs. Andrews said, much affected.

"I shall indeed be proud of your gift, both for itself and for the

kind feeling towards my boys which it expresses."

"Then, ma'am, with your permission we will just bring it in;" and the

deputation retired to assist with the piano.

"Oh, boys, how could you do it without telling me!" Mrs. Andrews

exclaimed.

George had hitherto stood speechless with surprise.

"But I didn't know anything about it, mother. I don't know what they

mean by saying that we would rather have it than watches. Of course we

would, a hundred times; but I don't know how they knew it."

"Then it must have been your kind thought, Bill."

"It wasn't no kind thought, Mrs. Andrews, but they spoke to me about

it, and I knew that a piano was what we should like better than

anything else, and I didn't say anything about it, because Bob

Grimstone thought that it would be nicer to be a surprise to George as

well as to you."

"You are right, old boy," George said, shaking Bill by the hand; "why,

there never was such a good idea; it is splendid, mother, isn't it?"

The men now appeared at the door with the piano. This was at once

placed in the position which had long ago been decided upon as the

best place for the piano when it should come. Mrs. Andrews opened it,

and there on the front was a silver plate with the inscription:

"To Mrs. Andrews from the Employees at Messrs. Penrose & Co., in token

of their gratitude to George Andrews and William Smith for their

courage and presence of mind, by which the factory was saved from

being destroyed by fire on Saturday the 23d of October, 1857."

The tears which stood in Mrs. Andrews' eyes rendered it difficult for

her to read the inscription.

"I thank you, indeed," she said. "Now, perhaps you would like to hear

its tones." So saying she sat down and played "Home, Sweet Home." "It

has a charming touch," she said as she rose, "and, you see, the air

was an appropriate one, for your gift will serve to make home even

sweeter than before. Give, please, my grateful thanks, and those of my

boys, to all who have subscribed."

The inhabitants of No. 8 Laburnum Villas had long been a subject of

considerable discussion and interest to their neighbors, for the

appearance of the boys as they came home of an evening in their

working clothes seemed altogether incongruous with that of their

mother and with the neatness and prettiness of the villa, and was,

indeed, considered derogatory to the respectability of Laburnum Villas

in general. Upon this evening they were still further mystified at

hearing the notes of a female voice of great power and sweetness,

accompanied by a piano, played evidently by an accomplished musician,

issuing from the house. As to the boys, they thought that, next only

to that of the home-coming of Mrs. Andrews, never was such a happy

evening spent in the world.

I do not think that in all London there was a household that enjoyed

that winter more than did the inmates of No. 8 Laburnum Villas. Their

total earnings were about thirty-five shillings a week, much less than

that of many a mechanic, but ample for them not only to live, but to

live in comfort and even refinement. No stranger, who had looked into

the pretty drawing room in the evening, would have dreamed that the

lady at the piano worked as a milliner for her living, or that the

lads were boys in a manufactory.

When spring came they began to plan various trips and excursions which

could be taken on bank holidays or during the long summer evenings,

when an event happened which, for a time, cut short all their plans.

The word had been passed round the shops the first thing in the

morning that Mr. Penrose was coming down with a party of ladies and

gentlemen to go over the works, and that things were to be made as

tidy as possible.

Accordingly there was a general clearing up, and vast quantities of

shavings and sawdust were swept up from the floors, although when the

machines had run again for a few hours no one would have thought that

a broom had been seen in the place for weeks.

George was now in a shop where a number of machines were at work

grooving, mortising, and performing other work to prepare the wood for

builders' purposes. The party arrived just as work had recommenced

after dinner.

There were ten or twelve gentlemen and as many ladies. Nelly Penrose,

with two girls about her own age, accompanied the party. They stopped

for a time in each shop while Mr. Penrose explained the nature of the

work and the various points of the machinery.

They had passed through most of the other rooms before they entered

that in which George was engaged, and the young girls, taking but

little interest in the details of the machinery, wandered somewhat

away from the rest of the party, chatting among themselves. George had

his eye upon them, and was wishing that Mr. Penrose would turn round

and speak to them, for they were moving about carelessly and not

paying sufficient heed to the machinery.

Suddenly he threw down his work and darted forward with a shout; but

he was too late, a revolving-band had caught Nelly Penrose's dress. In

an instant she was dragged forward and in another moment would have

been whirled into the middle of the machinery.

There was a violent scream, followed by a sudden crash and a harsh

grating sound, and then the whole of the machinery on that side of the

room came to a standstill. For a moment no one knew what had

happened. Mr. Penrose and some of his friends rushed forward to raise

Nelly. Her hand was held fast between the band and the pulley, and the

band had to be cut to relieve it.

"What an escape! what an escape!" Mr. Penrose murmured, as he lifted

her. "Another second and nothing could have saved her. But what

stopped the machinery?" and for the first time he looked round the

shop. There was a little group of men a few yards away, and, having

handed Nelly, who was crying bitterly, for her hand was much bruised,

to one of the ladies, he stepped towards them. The foreman came

forward to meet him.

"I think, sir, you had better get the ladies out of the shop. I am

afraid young Andrews is badly hurt."

"How is it? What is the matter?" Mr. Penrose asked.

"I think, sir, he saw the danger your daughter was in, and shoved his

foot in between two of the cog-wheels."

"You don't say so!" Mr. Penrose exclaimed, as he pushed forward among

the men.

Two of them were supporting George Andrews, who, as pale as death, lay

in their arms. One of his feet was jammed in between two of the

cog-wheels. He was scarcely conscious.

"Good Heavens," Mr. Penrose exclaimed in a low tone, "his foot must be

completely crushed! Have you thrown off the driving belt, Williams?"

"Yes, sir, I did that first thing."

"That's right; now work away for your lives, lads." This was said to

two men who had already seized spanners and were unscrewing the bolts

of the bearings in order to enable the upper shafting to be lifted and

the cog-wheel removed. Then Mr. Penrose returned to his friends.

"Pray leave the shop," he said, "and go down into the office. There's

been a bad accident; a noble young fellow has sacrificed himself to

save Nelly's life, and is, I fear, terribly hurt. Williams, send off a

man instantly for the surgeon. Let him jump into one of the cabs he

will find waiting at the gate, and tell the man to drive as hard as he

can go. If Dr. Maxwell is not at home let him fetch someone else."

George had indeed sacrificed himself to save Nelly Penrose. When he

saw the band catch her dress he had looked round for an instant for

something with which to stop the machinery, but there was nothing at

hand, and without an instant's hesitation he had thrust his foot

between the cog-wheels. He had on very heavy, thickly nailed working

boots, and the iron-bound sole threw the cogs out of gear and bent the

shaft, thereby stopping the machinery. George felt a dull, sickening

pain, which seemed to numb and paralyze him all over, and he

remembered little more until, on the shafting being removed, his foot

was extricated and he was laid gently down on a heap of shavings. The

first thing he realized when he was conscious was that someone was

pouring some liquid, which half-choked him, down his throat.

When he opened his eyes, Mr. Penrose, kneeling beside him, was

supporting his head, while on the other side knelt Bill Smith, the

tears streaming down his cheeks and struggling to suppress his sobs.

"What is it, Bill? What's the matter?" Then the remembrance of what

had passed flashed upon him.

"Is she safe; was I in time?"

"Quite safe, my dear boy. Thank God, your noble sacrifice was not in

vain," Mr. Penrose answered with quivering lips, for he too had the

greatest difficulty in restraining his emotion.

"Am I badly hurt, sir?" George asked after a pause, "because, if so,

will you please send home for mother? I don't feel in any pain, but I

feel strange and weak."

"It is your foot, my boy. I fear that it is badly crushed, but

otherwise you are unhurt. Your boot threw the machinery out of gear."

In ten minutes the doctor arrived. He had already been informed of the

nature of the accident.

"Is it any use trying to cut the boot off?" Mr. Penrose asked in a low

voice as Dr. Maxwell stooped over George's leg.

"Not the slightest," the doctor answered in the same tone. "The foot

is crushed to a pulp. It must come off at the ankle. Nothing can save

it. He had better be taken home at once. You had best send to Guy's

and get an operating surgeon for him. I would rather it were done by

someone whose hand is more used than mine to this sort of work."

"I am a governor of Guy's," Mr. Penrose said, "and will send off at

once for one of their best men. You are not afraid of the case, I

hope, Dr. Maxwell?"

"Not of the local injury," Dr. Maxwell replied; "but the shock to the

system of such a smash is very severe. However, he has youth,

strength, and a good constitution, so we must hope for the best. The

chances are all in his favor. We are thinking of taking you home, my

boy," he went on, speaking aloud to George. "Are you in any great

pain?"

"I am not in any pain, sir; only I feel awfully cold, and, please,

will someone go on before and tell mother. Bill had better not go; he

would frighten her to death and make her think it was much worse than

it is."

"I will go myself," Mr. Penrose replied. "I will prepare her for your

coming."

"Drink some more of this brandy," the doctor said; "that will warm you

and give you strength for your journey."

There was a stretcher always kept at the works in case of emergency,

and George was placed on this and covered with some rugs. Four of the

men raised it onto their shoulders and set out, Mr. Penrose at once

driving on to prepare Mrs. Andrews.

Bill followed the procession heart-broken. When it neared home he

fell behind and wandered away, not being able to bring himself to

witness the grief of Mrs. Andrews. For hours he wandered about,

sitting down in waste places and crying as if his heart would break.

"If it had been me it wouldn't have mattered," he kept on

exclaiming--"wouldn't have mattered a bit. It wouldn't have been no

odds one way or the other. There, we have always been together in the

shops till this week, and now when we get separated this is what comes

of it. Here am I, walking about all right, and George all crushed up,

and his mother breaking her heart. Why, I would rather a hundred times

that they had smashed me up all over than have gone and hurt George

like that!"

It was dark before he made his way back, and, entering at the back

door, took off his boots, and was about to creep upstairs when Mrs.

Andrews came out of the kitchen.

"Oh, Mrs. Andrews!" he exclaimed, and the tears again burst from him.

"Do not cry, Bill; George is in God's hands, and the doctors have

every hope that he will recover. They are upstairs with him now, with

a nurse whom Mr. Penrose has fetched down from the hospital. He will

have to lose his foot, poor boy," she added with a sob that she could

not repress, "but we should feel very thankful that it is no worse

after such an accident as that. The doctor says that his thick boots

saved him. If it hadn't been for that his whole leg would have been

drawn into the machinery, and then nothing could have saved him. Now I

must go upstairs, as I only came down for some hot water."

"May I go up to him, Mrs. Andrews?"

"I think, my boy, you had better stop down here for the present for

both your sakes. I will let you know when you can go up to him."

So Bill crouched before the fire and waited. He heard movements

upstairs and wondered what they were doing and why they didn't keep

quiet, and when he would be allowed to go up. Once or twice the nurse

came down for hot water, but Bill did not speak to her; but in half an

hour Mrs. Andrews herself returned, looking, Bill thought, even paler

than before.

"I have just slipped down to tell you, my boy, that it's all over.

They gave him chloroform, and have taken his foot off."

"And didn't it hurt it awful?" Bill asked in an awed voice.

"Not in the least. He knew nothing about it, and the first thing he

asked when he came to was when they were going to begin. They will be

going away directly, and then you can come up and sit quietly in his

room if you like. The doctors say he will probably drop asleep."

Bill was obliged to go outside again and wrestle with himself before

he felt that he was fit to go up into George's room. It was a long

struggle, and had George caught his muttered remonstrances to himself

he would have felt that Bill had suffered a bad relapse into his

former method of talking. It came out in jerks between his sobs.

"Come, none of that now. Aint yer ashamed of yerself, a-howling and

a-blubbering like a gal! Call yerself a man!--you are a babby, that's

what you are. Now, dry up, and let's have no more of it."

But it was a long time before he again mastered himself; then he went

to the scullery and held his head under the tap till the water took

away his breath, then polished his face till it shone, and then went

and sat quietly down till Mrs. Andrews came in and told him that he

could go upstairs to George. He went up to the bedside and took

George's hand, but he could not trust himself to speak.

"Well, Bill, old boy," George said cheerily, but in a somewhat lower

voice than usual, "this is a sudden go, isn't it?"

Bill nodded. He was still speechless.

"Don't you take it to heart, Bill," George said, feeling that the lad

was shaking from head to foot. "It won't make much odds, you know. I

shall soon be about again all right. I expect they will be able to put

on an artificial foot, and I shall be stumping about as well as ever,

though I shouldn't be much good at a race."

"I wish it had been me," Bill broke out. "I would have jammed my head

in between them wheels cheerful, that I would, rather than you should

have gone and done it."

"Fortunately there was no time," George said with a smile. "Don't you

fret yourself, Bill; one can get on well enough without a foot, and it

didn't hurt me a bit coming off. No, nor the squeeze either, not

regular hurting; it was just a sort of scrunch, and then I didn't feel

anything more. Why, I have often hurt myself ten times as much at play

and thought nothing of it. I expect it looked much worse to you than

it felt to me."

"We will talk of it another time," Bill said huskily. "Your mother

said I wasn't to talk, and I wasn't to let you talk, but just to sit

down here quiet, and you are to try to go off to sleep." So saying he

sat down by the bedside. George asked one or two more questions, but

Bill only shook his head. Presently George closed his eyes, and a

short time afterwards his quiet regular breathing showed that he was

asleep.

The next six weeks passed pleasantly enough to George. Every day

hampers containing flowers and various niceties in the way of food

were sent down by Mr. Penrose, and that gentleman himself very

frequently called in for a chat with him. As soon as the wound had

healed an instrument-maker came down from town to measure him for an

artificial foot, but before he was able to wear this he could get

about on crutches.

The first day that he was downstairs Mr. Penrose brought Nelly down

to see him. The child looked pale and awed as he came in.

"My little girl has asked me to thank you for her, George," Mr.

Penrose said as she advanced timidly and placed her hand in his. "I

have not said much to you about my own feelings and I won't say much

about hers; but you can understand what we both feel. Why, my boy, it

was a good Providence, indeed, which threw you in my way! I thought so

when you saved the mill from destruction. I feel it tenfold more now

that you have saved my child. The ways of God are, indeed, strange.

Who would have thought that all this could have sprung from that boy

snatching the locket from Helen as we came out of the theater! And now

about the future, George. I owe you a great debt, infinitely greater

than I can ever repay; but what I can do I will. In the future I shall

regard you as my son, and I hope that you will look to me as to a

father. I have been talking to your mother, and she says that she

thinks your tastes lie altogether in the direction of engineering. Is

that so?"

"Yes, sir. I have often thought I would rather be an engineer than

anything else, but I don't like----"

"Never mind what you like and what you don't like," Mr. Penrose said

quietly. "You belong to me now, you know and must do as you are told.

What I propose is this, that you shall go to a good school for

another three years, and I will then apprentice you to a first-class

engineer, either mechanical or civil as you may then prefer, and when

you have learned your business I will take good care that you are

pushed on. What do you say to that?"

"I think it is too much altogether," George said.

"Never mind about that," Mr. Penrose said, "that is my business. If

that is the only objection we can imagine it settled. There is another

thing. I know how attached you are to your friend Bill, and I am

indebted to him, too, for the part he played at the fire, so I

propose, if he is willing, to put him to a good middle-class school

for a bit. In the course of a couple of years he will get a sufficient

education to get on fairly with, and then I propose, according as you

may choose to be a civil or mechanical engineer, to place him with a

mason or smith; then by the time that you are ready to start in

business he will be ready to take a place under you, so that you may

again work together."

"Oh, thank you, sir!" George exclaimed, even more pleased at the news

relating to Bill than at his own good fortune, great as was the

delight which the prospect opened by Mr. Penrose's offer caused him.

As soon as George could be moved, Mr. Penrose sent him with his mother

and Bill down to the seaside. Here George rapidly regained strength,

and when, after a stay there of two months, he returned to town, he

was able to walk so well with his artificial foot that his loss would

not have been noticed by a stranger.

The arrangements settled by Mr. Penrose were all in due time carried

out. George went for three years to a good school, and was then

apprenticed to one of the leading civil engineers. With him he

remained five years and then went out for him to survey a railroad

about to be constructed in Brazil, and remained there as one of the

staff who superintended its construction. Bill, who was now a clever

young mason, accompanied him, and through George's interest with the

contractor obtained the sub-contract for the masonry of some of the

bridges and culverts.

This was ten years ago, and George Andrews is now one of the most

rising engineers of the day, and whatever business he undertakes his

friend Bill is still his right-hand man. Mr. Penrose has been in all

respects as good as his word, and has been ready to assist George with

his personal influence in all his undertakings, and in all respects

has treated him as a son, while Nelly has regarded him with the

affection of a sister.

Both George and Bill have been married some years, and Mrs. Andrews

the elder is one of the proudest and happiest of mothers. She still

lives with her son at the earnest request of his wife, who is often

left alone during George's frequent absence abroad on professional

duties. As for Bill, he has not even yet got over his wonder at his

own good fortune, and ever blesses the day when he first met George in

Covent Garden.

DO YOUR DUTY.

Early in the month of March, 1801, an old sailor was sitting on a

bench gazing over the stretch of sea which lies between Hayling Island

and the Isle of Wight. The prospect was a lively one, for in those

days ships of war were constantly running in and out, and great

convoys of merchantmen sailed under the protection of our cruisers;

and the traffic between Spithead and Portsmouth resembled that of a

much frequented road.

Peter Langley had been a boatswain in the king's service, and had

settled down in his old age on a pension, and lived in a small cottage

near the western extremity of Hayling Island. Here he could see what

was going on at Spithead, and when he needed a talk with his old

"chums" could get into his boat, which was lying hauled up on the

sand, and with a good wind arrive in an hour at the Hard. He was

sitting at present on a portion of a wreck thrown up by a very high

tide on the sandy slope, when his meditations were disturbed by a

light step behind him, and a lad in a sailor's dress, some fifteen

years of age, with a bright honest face, came running down behind him.

"Hallo, dad!"

"Hallo, my boy! Bless me, who'd ha' thought o' seeing you!" and the

old man clasped the boy in his arms in a way that showed the close

relationship between the two. "I didn't expect you for another week."

"No! we've made a quick passage of it," the boy said; "fine wind all

the way up, with a gale or two in the right quarter. We only arrived

in the river on Monday, and as soon as we were fairly in dock I got

leave to run down to see you."

"What were you in such a hurry for?" the old sailor said. "It's the

duty of every hand to stop by the ship till she's cleared out."

"I have always stayed before till the crew were paid off; but no

sooner had we cast anchor than one of the owners came on board, and

told the captain that another cargo was ready, that the ship was to be

unloaded with all speed, and to take in cargo and sail again in a

fortnight at the utmost, as a fleet was on the point of sailing for

the West Indies under a strong convoy."

"A fortnight! That's sharp work," the old sailor said. "And the goods

will have to be bundled out and in again with double speed. I know

what it will be. You will be going out with the paint all wet, and

those lubbers the stevedores will rub it off as fast as it's put on.

Well, a few days at sea will shake all down into its place. But how

did you get leave?"

"I am rather a favorite with the first officer," the lad said. "The

men who desired to leave were to be discharged at once and a fresh

gang taken on board, so I asked him directly the news came round if I

might have four days away. He agreed at once, and I came down by the

night coach; and here I am for eight-and-forty hours."

"It's a short stay," the old sailor said, "after more than a year

away, but we mustn't waste the time in regretting it. You've grown,

Harry, and are getting on fast. In another couple of years you'll be

fit to join a king's ship. I suppose you've got over your silly idea

about sticking to the merchant service. It's all very well to learn

your business there as a boy, and I grant that in some things a

merchantman is a better school than a king's ship. They have fewer

hands, and each man has to do more and to learn to think for himself.

Still, after all, there's no place like a saucy frigate for excitement

and happiness."

"I don't know, dad," the boy said. "I have been learning a little

navigation. The first officer has been very kind to me, and I hope in

the course of two or three years to pass and get a berth as a third

mate. Still, I should like three or four years on board a man-of-war."

"I should think so," the old sailor said, "for a man ought to do his

duty to his country."

"But there are plenty of men to do their duty to their country," the

boy said.

"Not a bit of it!" the sailor exclaimed. "There's a great difficulty

in finding hands for the navy. Everyone wants to throw their duty upon

everyone else. They all hanker after the higher wages and loafing life

on board a merchantman, and hate to keep themselves smart and clean as

they must do in a king's ship. If I had my way, every tar should serve

at least five years of his life on board a man-of-war. It is above all

things essential, Harry, that you should do your duty."

"I am ready to do my duty, dad," the boy said, "when the time comes. I

do it now to the best of my power, and I have in my pocket a letter

from the first officer to you. He told you when you went down with me

to see me off on my last voyage that he would keep an eye upon me, and

he has done so."

"That's right," the old man said. "As you say, Harry, a man may do his

duty anywhere; still, for all that, it is part of his duty, if he be a

sailor, to help his majesty, for a time at least, against his enemies.

Look at me. Why, I served man and boy for nigh fifty years, and was in

action one way and another over a hundred times, and here I am now

with a snug little pension, and as comfortable as his gracious majesty

himself. What can you want more than that?"

"I don't know that I can want more," the boy said, "in its way, at

least; but there are other ways in the merchant service. I might

command a ship by the time I am thirty, and be my own master instead

of being a mere part of a machine. I have heard the balls flying too,"

he said, laughing.

"What! did you have a brush with Mounseer?" the old tar said, greatly

interested.

"Yes; we had a bit of a fight with a large privateer off the coast of

Spain. Fortunately the old bark carries a long eighteen, as well as

her twelves, and when the Frenchman found that we could play at long

bowls as well as himself he soon drew off, but not before we had

drilled a few holes in his sails and knocked away a bit of his

bulwarks."

"Were you hit, Harry?"

"Yes, two or three shots hulled her, but they did little damage beyond

knocking away a few of the fittings and frightening the lady

passengers. We had a strong crew, and a good many were sorry that the

skipper did not hide his teeth and let the Frenchman come close before

he opened fire. We should like to have towed him up the river with our

flag over the tricolor."

"There, you see, Harry," the old sailor said, "you were just as ready

to fight as if you had been on a man-of-war; and while in a sailing

ship you only get a chance if one of these privateers happens to see

you, in a king's ship you go looking about for an enemy, and when you

see one the chances are he is bigger, instead of smaller, than

yourself."

"Ah! well, dad, we shall never quite agree on it, I expect," the boy

said; "but for all that, I do mean to serve for a few years in a

man-of-war. I expect that we may have a chance of seeing some

fighting in the West Indies. There are, they say, several French

cruisers in that direction, and although we shall have a considerable

convoy the Frenchmen generally have the legs of our ships. I believe

that some of the vessels of the convoy are taking out troops, and that

we are going to have a slap at some of the French islands. Has there

been any news here since I went?"

"Nothing beyond a few rows with the smugglers. The revenue officers

have a busy time here. There's no such place for smuggling on the

coast as between Portsmouth and Chichester. These creeks are just the

places for smugglers, and there's so much traffic in the Channel that

a solitary lugger does not attract the attention of the coastguard as

it does where the sea's more empty. However, I don't trouble myself

one way or the other about it. I may know a good deal of the

smuggling, or I may not, but it's no business of mine. If it were my

duty to lend a hand to the coast-guard, I should do it; but as it

isn't, I have no ill-will to the smugglers, and am content enough to

get my spirits cheap."

"But, dad, surely it's your duty to prevent the king being cheated?"

Harry said with a smile.

"If the king himself were going to touch the money," the old sailor

said sturdily, "I would lend a hand to see that he got it, but there's

no saying where this money would have gone. Besides, if the spirits

hadn't been run, they would not have been brought over here at all,

so after all the revenue is none the worse for the smuggling."

The boy laughed. "You can cheat yourself, dad, when you like, but you

know as well as I do that smuggling's dishonest, and that those who

smuggle cheat the revenue."

"Ah, well!" the sailor said, "it may be so, but I don't clearly see

that it's my duty to give information in the matter. If I did feel as

it were going to be my duty, I should let all my neighbors know it,

and take mighty good care that they didn't say anything within earshot

of me, that I might feel called on to repeat. And now, let's go up to

the cottage and see the old woman."

"I looked in there for a moment," Harry said, "as I passed. Mother

looks as hale and hearty as she did when I left, and so do you, dad."

"Yes, we have nothing to complain of," the old man said. "I have been

so thoroughly seasoned with salt water that it would take a long time

for me to decay."

When they got up to the cottage they found that Jane Langley had got

breakfast prepared. Rashers of bacon were smoking on the table, and a

large tankard of beer stood by, for in those days the use of tea had

not become general in this country.

"Have you heard, mother," Peter Langley said, "that the boy is to

leave us again in forty-eight hours?"

"No, indeed," the old woman said; "but this is hard news. I had hoped

that you would be with us for a bit, my boy, for we're getting on fast

in life, and may not be here when you return."

"Oh, mother! we will not think of such a thing as that," Harry said.

"Father was just saying that he's so seasoned that even time cannot

make much of such a tough morsel; and you seem as hearty as he is."

"Aye, boy," Peter said, "that be true, but when old oak does come

down, he generally falls sudden. However, we won't make our first meal

sad by talking of what might be."

Gayly during the meal they chatted over the incidents of Harry's

voyage to India and back. It was his second trip. The lad had had a

much better education than most boys in his rank of life at that time,

the boatswain having placed him at the age of ten in charge of a

schoolmaster at Portsmouth. When Harry had reached that age Peter had

retired from the service, and had settled down at Hayling, but for two

years longer he had kept Harry at school. Then he had apprenticed him

to a firm of shipowners in London, and one of the officers under whom

Peter had served had spoken to the heads of the firm, so that the boy

was put in a ship commanded by a kind and considerate officer, and to

whose charge he was specially recommended. Thus he had not forgotten

what he had learned at school, as is too often the case with lads in

his position. His skipper had seen that he not only kept up what he

knew, but that he studied for an hour or so each day such subjects as

would be useful to him in his career.

After breakfast the pair again went out onto the sandhills, Peter, as

usual, carrying a huge telescope with him, with which he was in the

habit of surveying every ship as she rounded the west of the island

and came running in through the channel to Portsmouth. Most of the

men-of-war he knew in an instant, and the others he could make a

shrewd guess at. Generally when alone with Harry he was full of talk

of the sea, of good advice as to the lad's future bearing, and of

suggestions and hints as to the best course to be adopted in various

emergencies. But to-day he appeared unusually thoughtful, and smoked

his pipe, and looked out in silence over the sea, scarcely even

lifting his telescope to his eye.

"I've been thinking, Harry," he said at last, "that as you are going

away again, and, as the old woman says, you may not find us both here

when you come back, it is right that I should tell you a little more

about yourself. I once told you, years ago, that you were not my son,

and that I would give you more particulars some day."

The lad looked anxiously up at the old sailor. It was a matter which

he had often thought over in his mind, for although he loved the

honest tar and his good wife as much as he could have done his natural

parents, still, since he had known that he was their adopted son only,

he had naturally wondered much as to who his parents were, and what

was their condition in life.

"I thought it as well," the old sailor began, "not to tell you this

here yarn until you were getting on. Boys' heads get upset with a

little breeze, especially if they have no ballast, and though it isn't

likely now that you will ever get any clew as to your birth, and it

will make no difference whether it was a duke or a ship's caulker who

was your father, still it's right that you should know the facts, as

no one can say when they start on a voyage in life what craft they may

fall aboard before they've done. It may be, Harry, that as you intends

to stick to the merchant service--saving, of course, that little time

you mean to serve on board a king's ship--you may rise to be a

skipper, and perhaps an owner. It may be, boy, that as a skipper you

may fall in love with some taut craft sailing in your convoy. I've

seen such things before now, and then the fact that you might be, for

aught you know, the son of a marquis instead of being that of a

boatswain, might score in your favor. Women have curious notions, and

though, for my part, I can't see that it makes much difference where

the keel of a craft was laid as long as it's sound and well-built,

there are those who thinks different.

"Well, to tell you the yarn. It were nigh fourteen years ago that I

was boatswain aboard the _Alert_ frigate, as taut a craft as ever

sailed. We had a smart captain and as good a crew as you'd want to

see. We were cruising in the West Indies, and had for months been,

off and on, in chase of a craft that had done much damage there. She

carried a black flag, and her skipper was said to be the biggest

villain that ever even commanded a pirate. Scarce a week passed but

some ship was missing. It mattered little to him whether she sailed

under the English, the French, or the Spanish flag; all was fish to

him. Many and many a vessel sailed laden that never reached Europe.

Sometimes a few charred timbers would be thrown up on the shore of the

islands, showing that the ship to which they belonged had been taken

and burned before she had gone many days on her way. Often and often

had the pirate been chased. She was bark-rigged, which was in itself a

very unusual thing with pirates--indeed, I never knew of one before.

But she had been, I believe, a merchantman captured by the pirate, and

was such a beauty that he hoisted his flag on her, and handed his own

schooner over to his mate. Somehow or other he had altered her

ballast, and maybe lengthened her a bit, for those pirates have a

rendezvous in some of the islands, where they are so strong that they

can, if need be, build a ship of their own. Anyhow, she was the

fastest ship of her class that ever was seen on those seas, and though

our cruisers had over and over again chased her, she laughed at them,

and would for a whole day keep just out of reach of their bow-chasers

with half her sails set, while the cruisers were staggering under

every rag they could put on their masts. Then when she was tired of

that game she would hoist her full canvas and leave the king's vessel

behind as if she was standing still. Once or twice she nearly got

caught by cruisers coming up in different directions, but each time

she managed to slip away without ever having a rope or stay started by

a shot. We in the _Alert_ had been on her footsteps a dozen times, but

had had no more luck than the rest of them, and the mere name of the

_Seamew_ was sufficient to put any one of us into a passion. There

wasn't one of the ship's company, from the captain down to the

powder-monkey, who wouldn't have cheerfully given a year's pay to get

alongside the _Seamew_. The _Alert_ carried thirty-two guns, and our

crew was stronger than usual in a vessel of that size, for there was a

good deal of boat service, and it was considered that at any moment

'Yellow Jack' might lay a good many hands up--or down, as the case may

be. Well, one night we were at anchor in Porto Rico, and the first

lieutenant had strolled up with two of the middies to the top of a

hill just before the sun went down. He had taken a glass with him.

Just as the night was falling, a middy on our quarter-deck, who was

looking at the shore with a glass, said to the second lieutenant, who

was on watch:

"'Look, sir; here comes Mr. Jones with Keen and Hobart down that hill

as if he were running a race. He isn't likely to be racing the

middies. What can he be after?'

"'No,' the second lieutenant said, with a smile; 'Mr. Jones is hardly

likely to be racing the middies'; which, indeed, was true enough, for

the first lieutenant was as stiff as a ramrod--a good officer, but as

strict a martinet as ever I sailed under.

"The second lieutenant took the glasses, and saw that, whatever the

reason might be, it was as the midshipman had said. The news that Mr.

Jones was coming down the hill, running as if Old Nick was after him,

soon spread, and there was quite an excitement on the quarter-deck as

to what could be the matter.

"Ten minutes afterwards the gig was seen coming off to the ship, and

it was evident, by the way the spray was flying and the oars bending,

that the men were pulling as if for life or death. By this time the

news had spread through the ship, and the captain himself was on the

quarter-deck.

"'Give me the speaking-trumpet,' he said, and as the boat came within

call he shouted, 'What's the matter, Mr. Jones? Is anything wrong?'

"'I've sighted,' the lieutenant said, standing up and making a trumpet

with his two hands, 'two craft together round the point of the island

some fifteen miles at sea. They're low down on the sea-line, but by

their look I think that one is the _Seamew_ and the other a

merchantman she has captured.'

"Not a moment was lost. The captain gave the orders sharp and quick.

The men, who were all standing about, were in a minute clustering on

the yards, and never was canvas got on a ship faster than it was on

the _Alert_ that evening. Before the boat was fairly run up to the

davits the anchor was at the cat-head, and the _Alert's_ bows were

pointing seawards. Five minutes afterwards, with every stitch of

canvas set, we were running out of the harbor. The first lieutenant

had taken the bearings pretty accurately, and as there was a brisk

evening breeze blowing we spun along at a famous rate. By this time it

was dark, and we had every hope that we might come upon the pirate

before she had finished transferring the cargo of her prize under her

own hatches. Not a light was shown, and as the moon was not up we

hoped to get within gunshot before being seen, as the pirate, seeing

no craft within sight before the sun went down, would not suspect that

the _Alert_ could be on his traces. We had to sail close to the wind

till we were round the point of the island, and then to run nearly

before it towards the spot where the vessels had been seen. In two

hours from the time of starting we reckoned that we must be getting

close to them if they still remained hove-to.

"All of a sudden, some two miles ahead, a point or two off the

starboard bow, a great flame shot up. Every moment it grew and grew

until we could see a large ship in flames, while another lay about a

quarter of a mile distant. Three or four boats were pulling from the

ship in flames towards the other, and as this was a bark we had no

doubt that we had caught the _Seamew_ at her villainous work. The

pirate was lying between us and the burning merchantman, so that while

her spars stood out clear and distinct against the glare of light we

must have been invisible to her. The word was passed quickly forward

for the men to go to quarters. Every gun was double-shotted and run

out, and then, all being ready for the fight, the men stripped to

their waists, cutlasses and boarding-pikes ready to hand, we waited

with breathless anxiety. We were already within range of our

bow-chasers, and as yet there was no sign that the pirate was

conscious of our presence. The boats were now near him, and no doubt

those on board were looking rather in their direction than to

windward. Rapidly the _Alert_ tore through the water, the sail

trimmers were all ready to take in her light canvas at a moment's

notice. The officers clustered on the quarter-deck, and the men stood

by their guns with every eye strained at the pirate. Nearer and nearer

we came, and our hopes rose higher and higher. We were within a mile

now, when suddenly a great movement was seen on board the pirate. The

breeze was steady, and the sea quiet, and loud words of command could

be heard shouted as a swarm of men ran up the rattlins. It was clear

we were seen. There was no further need of concealment, and the

captain gave word for the bow-chasers to open. Quickly as the pirate

got her canvas spread--and I do think that sharp as we had been on

board the _Alert_, the _Seamew_ was even quicker in getting under

canvas--we were scarce a quarter of a mile from her when she got

fairly under way. Up to this moment not a gun had spoken save the two

bow-chasers, as the captain would not yaw her until the last moment

Then round she came and poured a broadside into the _Seamew_. Orders

had been given to fire high, and every man was on his mettle. The

maintop-mast of the _Seamew_ fell, snapped at the cap; the peak

halyards of the mizzen were shot away, and a number of holes were

drilled through her sails. A loud cheer broke from our men. Fast as

the _Seamew_ was she was sufficiently crippled now to prevent her

getting away, and at last she was to show whether she could fight as

well as run, and I must say for her she did.

"She carried but twenty guns against our thirty-two, but they were of

far heavier metal, and after ten minutes the _Alert_ was as much

bruised and battered as if she had been fighting a Frenchman of equal

size for an hour. However, we had not been idle, and as our shot had

been principally directed against the enemy's rigging, as our great

object was to cripple her and so prevent her from getting away, she

was by this time a mere wreck above, although her sides were scarcely

touched; whereas two of our ports had been knocked into one, and some

thirty of our men had been struck down either by shot or by splinters.

Pouring a last broadside into her, the captain ordered the _Alert_ to

be brought alongside the _Seamew_. There was no need to call upon the

boarders to be ready. Every man was prepared, and as the vessels came

alongside our men rushed to the assault. But the crew of the _Seamew_

were as eager to board us as we were them, and upon the very bulwarks

a desperate combat ensued. Strong as we were, the _Seamew_ carried

fully as many hands, and as they were fighting with halters round

their necks it's little wonder that they fought so well.

"I've been in a good many fights, but never did I see one like that.

Each man hacked, and hewed, and wielded his boarding-pike as if the

whole fight depended upon his single exertions. Gradually the men

whose places were at the guns on the starboard side left their places

and joined in the fight, while those on the port side continued to

pour a fire of grape into the enemy. It was near half an hour before

we got a fair footing on the pirate's deck, and then steadily and

gradually we fought our way forward. But it was another half-hour

after the pirate captain and all his officers had been killed, and

fully half the crew cut down, that the rest surrendered.

"On board the _Alert_ we had fully one-third of our complement killed

or wounded. Mr. Jones had been shot through the head; the second and

third lieutenants were both badly wounded, and the captain himself had

had his jaw broken by a pistol fired in his face. I got this scar on

my cheek, which spoiled my beauty for the rest of my life, but as I

had been over thirty years married to the old woman that made but

little difference. Never were a crew more glorious than we were that

night. Even the wounded felt that the victory had been cheaply

purchased. We had captured the scourge of these seas, which had for

ten years laughed at all the fastest cruisers of our navy, and we felt

as proud as if we had captured a French first-rate.

"All hands were at work next day in repairing damages. I was up aloft

seeing to the fitting of fresh gear to the topgallant-mast when I saw

something floating at sea which took my attention. It seemed to me

like a box, and an empty one, for it floated high on the water. Its

lid seemed to be open, and I thought once or twice that I saw

something inside. I slid down to the quarter-deck and reported what I

had seen. The third lieutenant, who was doing duty with his arm in a

sling, was not disposed to take the men off their work to lower a

boat; but as I pointed out that the box might have belonged to the

merchantman which had been burned overnight, and that it might afford

some clew as to the name of the ship, he consented, and with four

hands I was soon rowing towards the box.

"I don't know what I had expected to see, but I was never more

surprised than when, getting there, I found that it was a trunk, and

that in it, sitting up, was a child about eighteen months old. That

was you, Harry. In the bottom of the trunk were a locket with a

woman's likeness in it, a curious Indian bangle, and a few other

articles of jewelry. How you got there we never knew, but the

supposition was that when the pirate was overhauling the merchantman,

and her true nature was ascertained, some mother, knowing the fate

that awaited all on board, had put you in an open trunk, had thrown in

what ornaments she had about her, and had dropped the trunk overboard,

in hopes that it might drift away and be picked up by some passing

ship. It was a wild venture, with a thousand to one against its

success, but the Lord had watched over it, and there you were as snug

and comfortable as if you had been laying in your own cot, though, by

the way, you were squalling as loud as a litter of kittens, and I

expect had missed your breakfast considerably. You were sitting up,

and it was lucky that you were backward of your age, for, although by

your size we guessed you to be eighteen months, you were still unable

to walk. If you had been as active as some chaps of that age you would

have scrambled onto your feet, and no doubt capsized your boat.

"Well, we brought you on board, and there was a great talk as to what

was to be done with you; but as I was your discoverer I claimed you as

a lawful prize, and I thought you would amuse the old woman while I

was at sea, and perhaps be a comfort to me when I got laid up in

ordinary, as indeed you have been. So that's all I know, Harry. Every

inquiry was made, but we never heard of any ship which exactly

answered to the description. You see, beyond the fact that she was a

square-rigged ship we could say but little about her. The ornaments

found in the box seemed to show that she had come from the East

Indies, but of course that could not be, for what would she be doing

there? But at any rate the person who put you into the trunk, and who

was no doubt your mother, had been to the East Indies, or at least had

been given those ornaments by someone who had, for there was no doubt

where they were turned out.

"Well, on board the _Alert_ everyone got promoted. There was enough

valuable property found on board the _Seamew_ to give us a handsome

sum all round, and it was my share of the prize-money that enabled me

to buy this little cottage, and went no small way towards paying for

your schooling and board. As no one else claimed you, and your friends

could not be heard of, no one disputed my right to your guardianship;

and so, my boy, here you have been cruising about the world as Harry

Langley ever since."

The old sailor was silent, and Harry was some time before he spoke.

"Well, dad, you may not have been my real father, but no one could

have been a better father to me than you have, and as it isn't likely

now that I shall ever hit upon a clew which could lead me to discover

who I am, I shall continue to regard you as my real father. Still, as

you say, it may perhaps in life be some advantage to me to be able to

claim that I am the son of a marquis;" and he laughed merrily. They

talked the matter over for some time, and then Harry changed the

subject.

"Are all our friends well?" Harry asked.

"All except poor Tom Hardy. He slipped his cable six months since, and

his wife, poor old soul, is gone to some friends near Winchester."

"Who's living in the cottage?"

"Black Jack has taken it."

"What! has he moved from his old place, then?"

"No, it is said that he's taken it for a Frenchy, who comes down off

and on. They say he's in the smuggling business with Black Jack, and

that he disposes of the silks and wines that are brought over in the

_Lucy_, and that Jack trades over in France with his friends. The

lieutenant at the coast-guard station has his eye upon him, and I

believe that some day they will catch Black Jack as he runs his cargo;

but he's a slippery customer. It would be a good day for Hayling if

they could do so, for he and his crew do a lot of harm to the place.

They look more like men who have belonged to the _Seamew_ I was

talking to you about than honest English fishermen."

"It is a curious thing, dad, that the Frenchman should be coming

backwards and forwards here, and I wonder that the revenue people

don't inquire into it."

"I don't suppose that they know very much about it, Harry. He comes

off and on, generally arriving at night, and leaving a few hours

afterwards. I hear about these things because everyone knows that old

Peter Langley is not the chap to put his nose into other people's

business. I don't like these goings on, I must say, and consider they

will end badly. However, it is no business of ours, lad. We get our

brandy cheap in Hayling--nowhere cheaper, I should say--and that,

after all, is the matter that concerns us most. The wind's rising

fast; I think we're in for a gale."

It was as Peter said. The clouds were rising fast behind the island,

the waves were breaking with a short, sharp sound upon the beach,

white heads were beginning to show themselves out at sea, the fishing

craft were running in towards Portsmouth under reefed sails, the

men-of-war at Spithead could be seen sending down their topmasts, and

everything betokened that it would be a nasty night.

"What time must you leave, Harry?"

"I shall go off at three to-morrow morning; shall cross the ferry, and

catch the coach as it goes along at eight. I promised that I would be

back on the following morning, and I would not fail in keeping my

appointment, for as the captain has been so good I should be sorry

that he should think that I had broken my word."

In the course of the day Harry went over to the village and saw many

of his boy friends. Bill Simpkins, however, his great chum, happened

to be away, but his parents said that he would be back at nine in the

evening. He had gone over to Winchester to see a brother who was in a

regiment quartered there. Accordingly, soon after nine o'clock Harry

said to his father that he would just walk over to have a chat with

his friend, and be back in an hour or so.

"Thou had best stop at home and go to bed at once," Jane Langley said;

"if thou hast to start at three o'clock, it were time thou wert in bed

now."

"I am accustomed to short nights," Harry said, laughing, "and I shall

be able to sleep long to-morrow."

Putting on his hat, he nodded to the old couple, and went off at a run

into the darkness.

The road was a wide one, and but little frequented, and the grass grew

thick over a considerable portion of the sides, therefore as he ran

along with a light, springy tread the sound of his footsteps was

deadened. As he came along by the cottage of which he had been

speaking to Peter Langley he heard the sound of voices within. Being

curious to see what this mysterious Frenchman was like, Harry paused,

lightly lifted the latch of the gate, and entered the little garden.

He had intended to peep in at the window, and having satisfied his

curiosity to be off; but just as he reached the door the latter opened

suddenly, and Harry had only time to draw back behind the little porch

before two men came out. In one Harry recognized by his voice the

smuggler Black Jack; the other was by his halting English evidently

the foreigner. They stopped for a moment, looking out into the night.

"I tell you," the smuggler said, "it's going to be a storm, and no

mistake. The _Lucy_ is a tight craft, and has weathered gales when

many a bigger ship has gone down. Still, I don't like running out into

it without necessity."

"Necezity," said the Frenchman. "I sould have sought zat ze earning of

five hundred pounds was as urgent a necezity as was wanted."

"Aye, the money will be handy enough," the smuggler said, "though one

does put one's head into the noose to earn it. However, the sum is

bigger than usual, and, as you say, the affair is important."

"Bah!" the Frenchman said, "what does it matter about ze nooze? It

hasn't got over your zick neck or my zin one, and till it does we

needn't trouble about it. I tell you zis is ze most important dispatch

we have ever sent, and if it gets safe to hand zey cannot grudge us

double pay. I have ridden from London wizout stopping, and have killed

a horse worth fifty of your guineas. However, zat matters not. Zis

letter should fetch us ze money to pay for a dozen horses and a dozen

of your _Lucys_."

"All right!" the smuggler said; "in an hour we will be off. Letters

like that in your pocket are best not kept on hand. You are sure that

the _Chasse Maree_ will put out to meet us in such weather as we are

likely to have?"

"She will put out if a hurricane's blowing," the Frenchman said. "Zey

know ze importance of ze news, which is expected, and which I am

bringing zem. _Mon Dieu!_ what sums have been paid to get ze news

zat's in zis little dispatch!"

"Do you know what it is?" the smuggler said.

"Not for certain," the Frenchman replied, "but I believe it is ze

orders zat are to be sent to ze British fleet, and zat zey are about

to strike a great blow zomewhere."

"Well," the smuggler said, "I will go round and tell the boys. I

warned them to be in readiness, and I will send them straight down to

the beach. In a quarter of an hour I will return for you."

While this conversation had been going on Harry had been standing

against the porch, the sides of which were filled with latticework

over which a creeper grew. He had been frightened at the importance of

the secret that he was hearing, and had been rapidly meditating in his

mind how this all-portant information which was about to be conveyed

to the enemy could be stopped. He had made up his mind that the

instant the smuggler moved out he would make his way down to the

village, tell the tale to half a dozen men, and have the Frenchman

seized. He saw at once that it would be difficult, for the smuggler

and his gang were not men to be attacked with impunity, and the

fishers of the village would hesitate in taking part in such a

struggle merely on the information of a boy. However, Harry saw that

it was the only chance.

In his anxiety to stand close to the lattice and so hide himself from

the view of the two men who were standing on the little garden-path in

front, he pressed too hard against it. The woodwork was rotten with

age, and suddenly with a crash it gave way.

With an oath the smuggler turned round, and he and the Frenchman

dashed to the spot, and in an instant had collared the lad. In a

moment he was dragged into the room.

"We must cut his throat, mounseer," the smuggler said, with a terrible

imprecation. "The scoundrel has heard what we've said, and our lives

won't be worth a minute's purchase if he were to be let free. Stand by

and I'll knock out his brains;" and he seized a heavy poker from the

side of the hearth.

"No, no," the Frenchman said, "don't let us have blood. Zere might be

inquiries, and zese sings will sometimes be found. Better take him to

sea wis you in ze _Lucy_, and hand him over to ze _Chasse Maree_. Zey

will take care zat he does not come back again."

"I will take care myself," the smuggler said. "I'm not going to risk

my neck on the chance of his blabbing. It's better, as you say, to

have no blood, but as soon as the _Lucy's_ at sea overboard he goes."

"We can talk of it," the Frenchman said. "I'm wis you zat he must be

silenced, but it may be better--my plan zan yours. Zis boy belongs, I

suppose, to ze village?"

"Yes," the smuggler said, "I know him by sight. He's the son of an

old man-of-war's man who lives half a mile away."

"Well, you see, some of your men might some day, if they quarreled wis

you, or in zeir drink, drop some words which might lead to inquiries.

Better put him on board ze _Chasse Maree_. I will see ze matter is

settled."

Harry had spoken no word from the time he was grasped. He felt in an

instant that his life was forfeited, and was surprised that he had not

been instantly killed. He had not raised his voice to hallo, for he

knew that no cottagers were near, and was sure that an attempt to give

the alarm would insure his instant death. To struggle would have been

useless. He was unarmed, and although a stout lad, was but a child in

the grasp of a powerful man like the smuggler. He saw, too, that on

the instant the Frenchman had drawn a dagger from his breast, and

though more quiet than the smuggler he felt by the tone of his voice

that he was as determined as his colleague that his silence should be

secured by death.

In another minute he was bound and thrown into a corner. The Frenchman

then took his seat near him, assuring him in a low tone that he would

at his first movement plant his dagger in his heart. The smuggler

strolled off to summon his crew, and for a quarter of an hour silence

reigned in the cottage.

"You are one fool," the Frenchman said at last, as if he had been

thinking the matter over--"one meddlesome fool. Why you want to listen

at people's doors and learn zeir secrets? I don't want to kill you,

but what are we to do? You make us kill you. You push your own head

into ze trap. Zat is ze way wis boys. Zey are forever meddling in

affairs zat concern zem not, and zen we have ze trouble to kill zem. I

would give a hundred pounds if zis had not happened; but what can I

do? It is my life against yours, and alzough I am sorry to have to do

it--_parbleu!_ my life is of much more value zan zat of a fishing boy.

Bah! you are one meddlesome fool."

So exasperated was the Frenchman at the trouble which the prying of

this lad had brought upon him that he got up and angrily gave him a

kick. A few minutes later the smuggler returned.

"The men have all gone down to the boat," he said briefly. "Come

along, mounseer. Bring that tin case with you, and those pistols."

"Zere is no fear zat I forget ze tin case," the Frenchman said. "As to

ze pistols--zey are not of much use. However, I will take zem;" and he

thrust them into the pockets of his coat.

The smuggler stooped, picked up Harry, threw him onto a sail which he

had laid on the ground, wrapped this round him, and then cast him over

his shoulder.

"I'm not likely to meet anyone on my way to the boat," he said, "but

should I do so I'm taking the mainsail of the _Lucy_ down to her."

In another minute Harry heard the door slam, and then he felt himself

being carried steadily along, his weight being as nothing to the

smuggler. Not a word was spoken between the two men on their way down

to the shore. Presently Harry felt by the deadened sound of the

footsteps, and by the more uneven motion, that he was being carried

over the sandy slopes down to the edge of the sea, and through the

canvas he could hear the loud roar of the waves, which were now

breaking violently.

Presently he was flung roughly down on the sands. A minute later he

was lifted by the head and feet, and swung into a boat. Not a word was

spoken as it was shoved off through the breakers, and after ten

minutes' hard rowing he felt a shock, and knew that they were

alongside of the _Lucy_. He was hauled up on deck. He heard a few

words of command, and then felt the vessel was on her way. A minute or

two later the covering was unloosed. His cords were cut, and the

smuggler said to him, "You can't get away now, and may as well make

yourself handy for the present. Give a haul on that rope."

The _Lucy_ was, in fact, short-handed, two of the six men who composed

her crew being absent. She was a lugger of some twenty-five tons'

burden, built something like an ordinary fishing-boat, but longer and

lower, and was, in fact, used for fishing when her crew were not

engaged upon other adventures. She was a remarkably fast craft, and

had more than once showed her heels with success when chased by the

revenue cutters. She owed her immunity from capture, however, chiefly

to her appearance, as from her size and build she generally passed

unsuspected as an innocent fisherman.

The storm increased in violence, and the little lugger, although a

good sea-boat, had difficulty in making her way almost in the teeth of

the gale. She was bound, Harry gained from a word or two dropped by

the captain, for the mouth of the Loire, off which she was to be met

by the _Chasse Maree_. Long before morning the coast of England was

out of sight, and the lugger was struggling down Channel bravely

holding her way in the sou'westerly gale.

"Will she be zere true to her time?" the Frenchman asked the smuggler.

"Aye, she will do it," Black Jack said, "if the wind holds as at

present. Two o'clock in the morning is the time named, and if your

people are as punctual as I shall be, the five hundred pounds will be

gained. There's one thing--in such a gale as is blowing to-day none of

our cruisers who may be off the coast are likely to trouble themselves

about a boat like ours. They may wonder what we are doing at sea, but

are scarcely likely to chase us."

Once or twice in the course of the day large vessels were seen in the

distance, which Harry knew, by the cut of their sails, to be English

cruisers. All were, however, lying-to under the smallest canvas, and

Harry knew that any assistance from them was out of the question.

Towards evening the gale moderated, but the sea was still very high.

During the day Harry had turned over in his mind every possible plan

by which he might destroy the tin case which contained, as he knew,

such important documents. From what he had gathered he learned that

the success of some great undertaking upon which the British fleet

were about to embark would be marred if these papers were to find

their way into the hands of the French authorities. His own life he

regarded as absolutely forfeited, for he was sure that no sooner was

he fairly on board the French _Chasse Maree_ than he would, at the

orders of the French spy, be thrown overboard, and that his life had

been so preserved, not from any feeling of mercy, but in order that

his death might be accomplished with less risk to those whose safety

demanded it.

He was determined, if opportunity presented, to seize the little case

and to leap overboard with it. The French spy never for one moment put

it down. It was a small tin case, with a handle at the top, and some

eight inches long by three inches wide, and the same deep. Sometimes

the Frenchman put it in his pocket, beyond which it projected, but

even then he took the precaution always to keep his hand upon it.

During the day Harry was constantly employed in work on board the

lugger, hauling at ropes and acting as if he were one of the regular

crew. He had shared in the meals with the men, but beyond a curse now

and then not a word had been addressed to him by any on board. The

night came on; the wind was still going down, but the sea was very

heavy. From the occasional rifts in the clouds the stars could be seen

shining brightly, and once or twice the moon broke through and spread

a light over the angry sea. As time went on the smuggler became

anxious, and kept a keen lookout ahead.

"It is past two," he exclaimed presently to the Frenchman, "and we are

nearly off the mouth of the river. When the moon shone out just now I

thought I caught sight of a vessel coming out, and I believe to

windward an English cruiser is lying. However, I will get ready the

lanterns."

The next time the moon came out a vessel was clearly seen. The

smuggler raised the lantern above the bulwarks, held it there for half

a minute, and then lowered it. This he repeated three times. A moment

later a similar signal was made on the bows of the vessel.

"That's her," the smuggler exclaimed exultingly, "and the five hundred

pounds is as good as in my pocket!"

As he spoke a bright flash was seen to windward.

"Confound it!" the smuggler said, "that cruiser has caught sight of

the Frenchman. However, we shall be on board in plenty of time, and

whether she gets safe to shore or not matters not much to me. I shall

have done my part of the work, and you, mounseer, will give me the

order for payment on London."

"It's done, my friend," the Frenchman said; "you've done your work

well. Here's the order."

By this time the French craft was within a distance of a quarter of a

mile, running down at a great pace under her reefed sails.

"It'll be no easy matter to get on board," the smuggler said, "for the

sea is running tremendously. They will have to throw a rope, and you

will have to catch it, mounseer, and jump overboard. I suppose your

dispatch-box is water-tight?"

"And the boy?" the Frenchman asked.

"Let them throw another rope," the smuggler said, "and you can haul

him on board too. It won't make much matter whether I slip the noose

round his body or his neck. The last will be the easiest plan perhaps,

for then, if he happens not to be alive when you pull him out, it

would be an accident; and even if anyone chooses to peach, they can't

swear that it was purposely done."

Harry was standing near, and heard the words. He was close to the helm

at the time, and watched with intense anxiety as the _Chasse Maree_

ran rapidly down to them. It was clear that what had to be done must

be done quickly, for another flash came up from the cruiser; and

although in the din of the wind and the toss of the waves it could not

be seen where her shot had fallen, the brightness of the flash showed

that she had come up since the last shot was discharged. The _Chasse

Maree_ ran down, and as she came her captain stood upon the bulwarks

and shouted at the top of his voice "Keep her steady, and as I run

past I will throw a rope."

"Throw two," Black Jack shouted. "There are two to come on board."

The course taken by the _Chasse Maree_ would bring her along at a

distance of some ten yards from the side of the lugger. At the moment

a squall came, and the lugger's head turned a little towards the

approaching craft. When she was just upon them Harry saw that his one

chance of escape had come. With a sudden rush he knocked the man at

the helm from his footing, and put the tiller up hard. The lugger paid

off instantly. Black Jack, with an oath, turned round and sprang at

Harry. The lad leaped beneath his uplifted hand, sprang at the

Frenchman, who was standing with his back to him, and snatching the

tin box from his hand leaped overboard.

Momentary as had been his hold upon the tiller it had been sufficient.

The vessel had paid off from the wind, and before the helmsman could

regain his feet, or Black Jack could seize the tiller, she lay across

the course of the _Chasse Maree_; and in another moment the French

craft plunged down upon her, and with a crash the _Lucy_ sank under

her bows, and went down with all on board.

As Harry sank beneath the waves he heard a shout of dismay from those

on board the _Lucy_. When he came up a minute later he saw the _Chasse

Maree_ plowing her way from him, but no sign of the _Lucy_ was to be

seen. Harry was a good swimmer, and fortunately the dispatch-box which

he grasped was water-tight, and buttoning it within his jacket he felt

that it kept his head easily above the water. He swam as well as he

could away from the spot where the Lucy had disappeared, for he knew

that if Black Jack or the Frenchman had escaped being run down and

should see him, his death was certain--not indeed that his chances

were in any case good, but with the natural hopefulness of boyhood he

clung to life, and resolved to make a fight for it as long as

possible. Had it not been for the dispatch-box he must have speedily

succumbed, for in so heavy a sea it was difficult in the extreme to

swim. However, after a short time he turned his back to the wind, and

suffered himself quietly to drift.

Hour passed after hour, and at last, to his intense delight, morning

began to break. He saw on his right the low shores of the French

coast, and looking round beheld seaward the British cruiser which had

fired at the _Chasse Maree_. She was running quietly along the coast,

and was evidently on guard at the mouth of the river. The sea had now

gone down much, and the sun rose bright in an almost cloudless sky.

Invigorated by the sight of the vessel Harry at once swam towards her.

She was farther out by a mile than the spot where he was swimming, and

was some two miles astern of him. She was sailing but slowly, and he

hoped that by the time she came along he would be able to get within

a distance whence he might be seen. His fear was that she might run

back before she reached the spot where she would be nearer to him.

With all his strength he swam steadily out, keeping his eye fixed

steadily on the ship. Still she came onward, and was within half a

mile when she was abreast of him. Then raising himself as high as he

could from the water, he shouted at the top of his voice. Again and

again he splashed with his hands to make as much spray and commotion

as possible in order to attract attention. His heart almost stood

still with joy as he heard an answering hail, and a moment later he

saw the vessel come round into the wind, and lay there with her sails

back. Then a boat was lowered, and five minutes later he was hauled

in, his senses almost leaving him now that the time for exertion had

passed. It was not until he had been lifted onto the deck of the

_Viper_, and brandy had been poured down his throat, that he was able

to speak. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered he was sent for to

the captain's cabin.

"And who are you, boy, and whence do you come?" the captain asked. "Do

you belong to the _Chasse Maree_, which we chased in the night?"

The officer spoke in French, supposing that Harry had fallen overboard

from that craft.

"I am English, sir," Harry said, "and escaped from a lugger which was

run down by the French craft just as you were firing at her."

"I thought," exclaimed the captain, "that my eyes had not been wrong.

I was sure that I saw a small fishing-boat close to the _Chasse

Maree_. We lost sight of her when a cloud came over the moon, and

thought we must have been mistaken. How came you there in an English

fishing-boat?"

Harry modestly told the story, and produced the dispatch-box.

"This is important news indeed," the officer said, "and your conduct

has been in every way most gallant. What is your name, lad?"

"Harry Langley," he replied. "I am an apprentice on board the Indiaman

_Dundas Castle_, and was to have sailed this week in the convoy for

the West Indies."

"You will not be able to do that now," the captain said. "This is most

important. However, the steward will take charge of you, and I will

talk to you again presently."

The steward was called, and was told to put Harry into a cot slung for

him, and to give him a bowl of warm soup; and in a few minutes the lad

was asleep.

The _Viper_ shortly afterwards hauled her wind, and ran down to a

consort who was keeping watch with her over the mouth of the Loire.

The captain repaired on board the other ship, whose commander was his

senior officer, and a consultation was held between them, after which

the _Viper_ was again got under sail and shaped her course for

Portsmouth.

The wind was fair, and the next morning the _Viper_ passed through

the Needles, and soon afterwards anchored at Spithead. Here a large

number of men-of-war and frigates were at anchor, and above two of the

largest floated the flags of admirals. The _Viper_ had made her signal

as she came in sight of the fleet, and a reply was instantly run up

from the masthead of the admiral's ship, directing the captain to come

on board immediately the anchor was dropped. The moment this was done

the captain's gig was lowered, and calling to Harry to follow him the

captain took his seat in the stern-sheets, and rowed for the admiral's

ship. Directing the lad to remain on deck, the captain at once entered

the admiral's cabin, and a few minutes later the admiral's orderly

summoned Harry to enter.

Admiral Sir Hyde Parker had evidently had a breakfast party, for a

number of naval officers, including Admiral Nelson and most of the

captains of the men-of-war, were seated round the table. The admiral

turned to Harry.

"So you are the lad who has brought this box of dispatches?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said modestly.

"Tell us your story over again," the admiral said. "It's a strange

one."

Harry again repeated the account of his adventures from the time of

leaving his father's cottage. When he had done Admiral Nelson

exclaimed:

"Very well, my lad. You could not have acted with more presence of

mind had you been a captain of the fleet. You showed great bravery

and did your duty nobly."

"There wasn't much bravery, sir," Harry said modestly, "for I knew

that they were going to kill me anyhow, so that it made no difference.

But I was determined, if possible, that the dispatches should be

destroyed."

The admiral smiled. He was not accustomed to hear his dicta even so

slightly questioned by a lad.

"You are an apprentice in the merchant service, Captain Skinner tells

me," Sir Hyde Parker said, "and have been two years at sea."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Would you like to be on the quarter-deck of one of his majesty's

vessels, instead of that of a merchantman?"

Harry's eyes glistened at the question.

"I should indeed, sir," he said.

"Then you shall be, my boy," the admiral answered. "Have any of you

gentlemen a vacancy in the midshipmen's berth? If not, I'll have him

ranked as a supernumerary on board my ship."

"I am short of a midshipman, Sir Hyde," one of the captains said.

"Poor little De Lisle fell overboard the night before last as we came

round from Plymouth. He was about the size of this lad, and I'll

arrange for him to have his togs. I like his look, and I should be

glad to have him with me. I am sure he will be a credit to the

service."

"That's settled, then," the admiral said. "You are now, sir," he said,

turning to Harry again, "an officer in his majesty's service, and, as

Captain Ball remarks, I am sure you will do credit to the service. A

lad who does his duty when death is staring him in the face, and

without a hope that the act of devotion will ever be known or

recognized, is sure to make a brave and worthy officer."

Harry's new captain wrote a few words on a piece of paper, and said to

the admiral's servant, "Will you tell the midshipman of my gig to come

here?"

A minute afterwards the midshipman entered. The captain gave him the

slip of paper and said, "Take this young gentleman on board the ship

with you at once, and present him to Mr. Francis, and with him give

this note. He will be your shipmate in future. See that he's made

comfortable."

The midshipman then beckoned to Harry to follow him, gazing askance,

and with no slight astonishment in his face, at the appearance of his

new messmate. Harry's attire, indeed, was not in accordance with the

received ideas of that of a midshipman freshly joining a ship. His

clothes were all so much shrunk that his ankles showed below his

trousers, and his wrists below his coat-sleeves. Without a word the

midshipman took his place in the stern-sheets, and beckoned Harry to

sit beside him.

"Where have you sprung from?" he said shortly.

"I hail last from the admiral's cabin," Harry said with a laugh.

"Before that from his majesty's ship _Viper_, and before that from the

sea."

"You look like the sea," said the midshipman. "But what have you been

doing? Have you served before?"

"Not in a king's ship," Harry said; "I have only just been appointed."

The midshipman was too surprised at Harry's appearance to question him

further. He felt that there was some mystery in the affair, and that

it would be better for him to wait until he saw the footing upon which

Harry was placed. He had little doubt from the fact of his appointment

being made under such circumstances that there must be something at

once singular and noteworthy about it.

Upon reaching the ship Harry's new messmate at once led him up to the

first lieutenant, and presented the captain's note. The lieutenant

opened it and glanced at the contents. They were brief:

"Harry Langley has been appointed midshipman on board the _Caesar_, and

has been promoted by Sir Hyde Parker himself. He has performed a most

gallant action, and one of the greatest importance. Make him at home

at once, and let him have poor De Lisle's kit. I will arrange about

it."

The senior midshipman was at once sent for by Mr. Francis, and Harry

handed over to him. The first lieutenant intimated to him briefly the

contents of the captain's letter, telling the midshipman to make him

as comfortable as possible.

Harry was led below to the cockpit, where his arrival was greeted with

a storm of questions, as his appearance on the quarter-deck had

naturally excited a great deal of observation. The midshipman who had

come with him could, of course, furnish no information, and beyond the

brief fact mentioned by the captain and repeated by the first

lieutenant, his new conductor could say no more.

"Just wait," the midshipman said, "till he's got into his new clothes

and looks presentable. He's in my charge, and I am to make him

comfortable. As he has been put on the quarter-deck by Sir Hyde

himself you may be sure he has done something out of the way."

In a few minutes Harry was rigged out in full midshipman's dress, and

being a very good-looking and gentlemanly lad, his appearance

favorably impressed his new messmates, who had at first been disposed

to resent the intrusion among themselves of a youngster whose

appearance was at least the reverse of reputable.

"Now," said one of the passed mates, "this meeting will resolve itself

into a committee. Let everyone who can, sit down; and let those who

can't, stand quiet. I am the president of the court. Now, prisoner at

the bar," he said, "what is your name?"

"Harry Langley."

"And how came you here?"

"I was brought in the captain's gig."

"No equivocation, prisoner. I mean what brought you onto the

quarter-deck?"

"I had the good luck," Harry said, "to prevent a very important

dispatch falling into the hands of the French."

"The deuce you had!" the president said; "and how was that? That is to

say," he said, "if there's no secret about it?"

"None at all," Harry said, "the matter was very simple;" and for the

second time that morning he told the story.

When he had done there was a general exclamation of approval among

those present, and the midshipmen crowded round him, shaking his hand,

patting him on the back, and declaring that he was a trump.

"The prisoner is acquitted," the president said, "and is received as a

worthy member of this noble body. Boy!"

"Yes, sir."

"Go to the purser and ask him to send in two bottles of rum for this

honorable mess to drink the health of a new comrade."

Presently the boy returned.

"The purser says, sir, who is going to pay for the rum?"

There was a roar of laughter among the middies, for the master's mate,

who had acted as president, was notoriously in the purser's books to

the full amount of his credit. However, a midshipman, who happened

that morning to have received a remittance, undertook to stand the

liquor to the mess, and Harry's health was drunk with all honors.

"I suppose," one of the midshipmen said, "that the contents of the

dispatch were with reference to the point to which we are all bound. I

wonder where it can be?"

Here an animated discussion arose as to the various points against

which the attack of the fleet, now rapidly assembling at Spithead,

might be directed. So far no whisper of its probable course had been

made public, and it was believed indeed that even the captains of the

fleet were ignorant of its object.

Upon the following day Harry at once obtained leave to go on shore for

twenty-four hours. Immediately he reached the Head he chartered a

wherry, and was on the point of sailing when he heard a well-known

voice among a group of sailors standing near him.

"I can't make head or tail of it," Peter Langley said. "My boy left me

merely to go down to the village, and was to have returned the first

thing in the morning to join his ship in London. Well, he never came

back no more. What he did with himself, unless he sailed in a

smuggling lugger which put out an hour or two afterwards, I can't make

out. The boy would never have shipped in that craft willingly, and I

can see no reason why he should have gone otherwise. He didn't cross

the ferry, and I can't help suspecting there was some foul play. When

Black Jack returns I will have it out of him if I kill him for it. He

has a strong party there, and I want half a dozen good tight hands to

come with me to Hayling. He will probably be back in a couple of days,

and if we tackle him directly he lands we may find out something about

him. Who will go with me?"

Half a dozen voices exclaimed that they were willing to assist their

old mate, when suddenly Harry stepped in among them, saying, "There's

no occasion for that. I can tell them all about him."

Peter Langley stepped backwards in his astonishment, and stared

open-mouthed at Harry.

"Dash my buttons!" he exclaimed; "why, if it isn't Harry himself, and

in a midshipman's rig. What means this, my boy?"

"It means, father, that I am a midshipman on board his majesty's ship

_Caesar_."

Peter stood for a moment as one stupefied with astonishment, and then

threw his tarpaulin high in the air with a shout of delight. It fell

into the water, and the tide carried it away; Peter gave it no further

thought, but, seizing Harry's hand, wrung it with enthusiastic

delight.

"This is news indeed, my boy," he said. "To think of seeing you on the

quarter-deck, and that so soon!"

It was some minutes before Harry could shake himself free from his

friends, all of whom were old chums of the boatswain, and had known

him in his childhood. Drawing Peter aside at last he took him to a

quiet hotel, and there, to the intense astonishment of the veteran, he

related to him the circumstances which had led to his elevation. The

old sailor was alternately filled with wrath and admiration, and it

was only the consideration that beyond doubt Black Jack and the

Frenchman had both perished in the _Lucy_ that restrained him from

instantly rushing off to take vengeance upon them.

An hour later the pair took a wherry and sailed to Hayling, where the

joy of Peter was rivaled by that of Harry's foster-mother. That

evening Peter went out and so copiously ordered grog for all the

seafaring population in honor of the event that the village was a

scene of rejoicing and festivity such as was unknown in its quiet

annals.

The next day Harry rejoined his ship, and commenced his regular duties

as a midshipman on board.

A week later the whole of the ships destined to take part in it had

arrived. The "Blue Peter" was hoisted at the ship's head, and on a gun

firing from the admiral's ship the anchors were weighed, and the fleet

soon left Spithead behind them. It consisted of eighteen sail of the

line, with a number of frigates and gunboats. The expedition was

commanded by Sir Hyde Parker, with Admiral Nelson second in command.

Contrary to the general expedition they sailed eastward instead of

passing through the Solent, and, coasting along the south of England,

passed through the Straits of Dover and stood out into the North Sea.

Harry had had an interview with his captain four days after he had

joined. The latter told him that the dispatch-box which he had taken

had been sent up to London, and that its contents proved to be of the

highest importance, and that the Lords of the Admiralty had themselves

written to the admiral expressing their extreme satisfaction at the

capture, saying that the whole of their plans would have been

disconcerted had the papers fallen into the hands of the enemy. They

were pleased to express their strong approval of the conduct of Harry

Langley, and gave their assurance that when the time came his claim

for promotion should not be ignored.

"So, my lad," the captain said, "you may be sure that when you have

passed your cadetship you will get your epaulette without loss of

time, and if you are steady and well conducted you may look out for a

brilliant position. It is not many lads who enter the navy under such

favorable conditions. I should advise you to study hard in order to

fit yourself for command when the time should come. From what you tell

me your education has not been neglected, and I have no doubt you know

as much as the majority of my midshipmen as to books. But books are

not all. An officer in his majesty's service should be a gentleman.

That you are that in manner, I am happy to see. But it is desirable

also that an officer should be able in all society to hold his own in

point of general knowledge with other gentlemen. Midshipmen, as a

class, are too much given to shirking their studies, and to think that

if an officer can handle and fight a ship it is all that is required.

It may be all that is absolutely necessary, but you will find that the

men who have most made their mark are all something more than rough

sailors. I need say nothing to you as to the necessity of at all times

and hazards doing your duty. That is a lesson that you have clearly

already learned."

As the fleet still kept east, expectation rose higher and higher as to

the object of the expedition. Some supposed that a dash was to be made

on Holland. Others conceived that the object of the expedition must be

one of the North German or Russian forts, and the latter were

confirmed in their ideas when one fine morning the fleet were found to

be entering the Sound. Instead of passing through, however, the fleet

anchored here, out of gunshot of the forts of Copenhagen; and great

was the astonishment of the officers and men alike of the fleet when

it became known that an ultimatum had been sent on shore, and that the

Danes (who had been regarded as a neutral power) were called upon at

once to surrender their fleet to the English.

Upon the face of facts known to the world at large, this was indeed a

most monstrous breach of justice and right. The Danes had taken no

part in the great struggle which had been going on, and their

sympathies were generally supposed to be with the English rather than

the French. Thus, for a fleet to appear before the capital of Denmark,

and to summon its king to surrender his fleet, appeared a high-handed

act of brute force.

In fact, however, the English government had learned that negotiations

had been proceeding between the Danish government and the French; and

that a great scheme had been agreed upon, by which the Danes should

join the French at a given moment, and the united fleets being

augmented by ships of other powers, a sudden attack would be made upon

England. Had this secret confederation not been interfered with, the

position of England would have been seriously threatened. The fleet

which the allies would have been able to put onto the scene would have

greatly exceeded that which England could have mustered to defend her

coast, and although peace nominally prevailed between England and

Denmark the English ministry considered itself justified--and

posterity has agreed in the verdict--in taking time by the forelock,

and striking a blow before their seeming ally had time to throw off

the mask and to join in the projected attack upon them.

It was the news of this secret resolve on the part of the cabinet

that, having in some way been obtained by a heavy bribe from a

subordinate in the admiralty, was being carried over in cipher to

France in the _Lucy_, and had it reached its destination the Danes

would have been warned in time, and the enterprise undertaken by

Parker and Nelson would have been impossible, for the forts of

Copenhagen, aided by the fleet in the harbor, were too strong to have

been attacked had they been thoroughly prepared for the strife. As all

these matters were unknown to the officers of the fleet, great was the

astonishment when the captains of the ships assembled in the admiral's

cabin, and each received orders as to the position which his vessel

was to take up, and the part it was to bear in the contest. This being

settled, the captains returned to their respective ships.

Several days were spent in negotiations, but as the Danes finally

refused compliance with the English demands the long-looked-for signal

was hoisted and the fleet stood in through the Sound. It was a fine

sight as the leading squadron, consisting of twelve line-of-battle

ships and a number of frigates under Admiral Nelson, steered on

through the Sound, followed at a short distance by Sir Hyde Parker

with the rest of the fleet. The Danish forts on the Sound cannonaded

them, but their fire was very ineffectual, and the fleet without

replying steered on until they had attained the position intended for

them. The Danes were prepared for action. Their fleet of thirteen

men-of-war and a number of frigates, supported by floating batteries

mounting seventy heavy guns, was moored in a line four miles long in

front of the town, and was further supported by the forts on shore.

This great force was to be engaged by the squadron of Admiral Nelson

alone, as that of Sir Hyde Parker remained outside menacing the

formidable Crown Batteries and preventing these from adding their fire

to that of the fleet and other shore batteries upon Nelson's squadron.

The _Caesar_, the leading ship of the fleet, had been directed to sail

right past the line of ships and to operate against a detached fort

standing on a spit of land on the right flank of the Danish position.

This fort mounted many guns, much superior to those of the Caesar in

weight, but the crew were in high spirits at the prospect of a fight,

little as they understood the cause for which they were engaged.

Stripping to the waist, they clustered round the guns, each officer at

his post, Harry, with two other midshipmen, being upon the

quarter-deck near the captain to carry orders from him as might be

required to different parts of the ship. As the _Caesar_ passed along

the line of ships to take up her position she was saluted by a storm

of fire from the Danish vessels, to which she made no reply. She

suffered, however, but little injury, although shot and shell whistled

between the masts and struck the water on all sides of her, several

striking the hull with a dull, crashing sound, while her sails were

pierced with holes. Harry felt that he was rather pale, and was

disgusted with himself at the feeling of discomfort which he

experienced. But there is nothing that tries the nerves more than

standing the fire of an enemy before it is time to set to work to

reply. As soon as orders were given for the _Caesar's_ fire to be

opened, directly the guns could be brought to bear, and the roar of

her cannon answered those of the fort, the feeling of uneasiness on

Harry's part disappeared, and was succeeded by that of the excitement

of battle. The din was prodigious. Along the whole line the British

fleet was engaged, and the boom of the heavy guns of the ships, forts,

and batteries, and the rattle of musketry from the tops of the ships,

kept up a deep roar like that of incessant thunder.

"The water is very shallow, sir," the first lieutenant reported to the

captain. "There are but two fathoms under her foot. The wind, too, is

dropping so much that we have scarcely steerage-way, and the current

is sweeping us along fast."

"Prepare to anchor, Mr. Francis," the captain said.

He had scarcely spoken, however, when there was a slight shivering

sensation in the ship, and it was known by all on board that she was

aground, and that on a falling tide. While the starboard guns were

kept at work the men were called off from those of the port side,

boats were lowered and hawsers were got out, and every effort was made

to tow the ship off the shoal. The sailors pulled hard in spite of the

storm of shot and shell which fell round them from the fort and the

nearest Danish ships. But the _Caesar_ was fast. Calling the men on

board again, the captain requested the first lieutenant to go aloft

and see what was going on in other parts of the line. He returned with

the news that four or five other ships were plainly aground, and that

things appeared to be going badly. In the meantime the _Caesar_ was

suffering heavily. The fire of the fort was well directed, and the

gunners, working their pieces under comparative shelter, were able to

pour their fire steadily into the _Caesar_, while a floating battery

and two frigates also kept up an incessant fire.

The number of killed and wounded was already large, but as only the

guns of the starboard side could be worked the fire was kept up with

unabated zeal, and the fort bore many signs of the accuracy of the

fire. The parapet was in many places shot away and several of the guns

put out of action. But the _Caesar_ was clearly overmatched, and the

captain hastily wrote a note to the admiral, stating that the ship was

aground and was altogether overmatched, and begging that another

vessel might be dispatched to his aid, if one could be spared, in

order to partially relieve her of the enemy's fire.

"Here, Mr. Langley, take the gig and row off to the flagship

instantly."

Harry obeyed orders. Through the storm of shot and shell which was

flying, striking up the water in all directions, he made his way to

the admirals ship, which was lying nearly a mile away.

Admiral Nelson opened the note and read it through.

"Tell Captain Ball," he said, "that I haven't a ship to spare.

Several are aground, and all hard pressed. He must do the best he can.

Ah! you are the lad whom I saw in Sir Hyde Parker's cabin, are you

not?"

"Yes, sir."

The Admiral nodded in token of approval, and Harry prepared to leave.

Suddenly a thought struck him, and running into the captain's cabin he

asked the steward for a small tablecloth.

"What on earth d'you want it for?" he exclaimed.

"Never mind. Give it me at once."

Seizing the tablecloth he ran down into the boat. As they returned

towards the _Caesar_ they could see how hardly matters were going with

her. One of her masts was down. Her sides were battered and torn, and

several of her port-holes were knocked into one. Still her fire

continued unabated, but it was clear that she could not much longer

resist.