AN EAST INDIAN CONVOY--TOADY VOULES TURNS NURSE--FAIR RUN TO THE CAPE--
FEAR OF PRIVATEERS--CARELESSNESS--A STRANGE SIGNAL--MIDNIGHT ATTACK--
TIMELY ASSISTANCE--TREACHERY--LORD REGINALD IN COMMAND OF THE PRIZE--
TREATMENT OF THE MARIA'S CREW--DISCONTENT--A STERN CHASE IS A LONG
CHASE--OBSTINACY OF THE YOUNG LORD--VOULES'S ADVICE NEGLECTED--A CALM--
BURSTING OF THE HURRICANE--WRECK OF THE PRIVATEER--WASHED ASHORE.
A few days after Lord Reginald Oswald and Richard Hargrave returned on
board the _Wolf_, she went out of harbour and came to an anchor in
Cawsand Bay, where she, with another frigate, surrounded by a fleet of
merchantmen which they were to convoy to the East Indies, lay waiting
for a fair wind.
Dick had never seen so many ships together. To his eyes they presented
a grand sight, as with colours flying and sails loosened from the yards,
they were prepared to obey the signal for getting under way. He felt
proud of belonging to one of the ships which had charge of so many fine
vessels, many of them capable, it seemed to him, of coping with even the
enemy's men-of-war. The wind suddenly came round to the northward. The
_Wolf_ fired the signal gun, the anchor was hove up, her canvas was let
fall and sheeted home, and she glided out of the Sound, followed in
rapid succession by the merchant vessels; the _Ione_, the other frigate,
bringing up the rear and acting as whipper-in to the fleet, which, as
they spread out on their course down the British Channel, with their
snowy canvas extended below and aloft, seemed increased in number. The
signal midshipmen had work enough to do in watching the merchant
vessels, and in hoisting and hauling down the bunting as the requisite
signals were made, while both frigates were continually firing their
guns to hasten on the laggards, or to make the faster sailing ships
shorten sail.
Rapid voyages were not expected to be made in those days, for the more
nimble-heeled had to wait for the slower-sailing craft, while the
men-of-war had to keep the whole of the vessels under their charge in
sight, and as close together as circumstances would allow.
The midshipmen had assembled for dinner in their berth on the day the
fleet sailed, with the exception of those on duty.
"Faith, Ludlam! I thought you'd have been our new third, rather than
Oswald, who hasn't been in the service half as long as you have, and
isn't as good a seaman by a long score," said Paddy Logan.
"It's my ill luck; I've not got a marquis for a father, and must
submit," answered Ludlam, shrugging his shoulders.
"It's a crying shame, I say. Oh! you should have seen him come on board
last night, with his new-fledged honours thick upon him, in the shape of
an epaulet on his left shoulder. How he strutted about the deck, with a
shaggy Newfoundland pup running after him! and how he shook hands with
Curling and Jager, giving a nod to the master and old `cheese-parings,'
as if he considered them scarcely worth his notice, though he did
condescend to offer the tips of his fingers to Renton, our new
lieutenant of marines, and to Dr O'Brien! I say, old Voules, I thought
he was going to cut you altogether; but perhaps he'll honour you by
giving that yelping pup of his into your charge to dry nurse. You'll
not have many opportunities of paying court to him if he treats you in
the fashion he does others."
"I pay court to Lord Reginald Oswald! never did such a thing in my
life," answered Voules, blushing to the forehead. "But you are
mistaken, Paddy, as to the way he treated me. If you had seen him
afterwards, you would have said that he was as friendly as ever, only
now, as he has become a gun-room officer, he is of course obliged to
keep up a certain amount of reserve."
"Reserve! do you call it?" cried Tommy Shackel. "He glanced at me as if
he had never seen me before, and when I went up to him, and put out my
hand, he drew back with a look of astonishment at my audaciousness, I
suppose, as he thought it."
"You fellows shouldn't speak of Lord Reginald in the way you are doing,"
exclaimed Voules. "I consider he was an ornament to our mess while he
remained in it, and it is but natural that his father the marquis should
get him promoted as soon as he was eligible. As a friend of mine, I
cannot allow him to be spoken of disrespectfully."
There was a general laugh at this remark.
"Faith! an' who's speakin' disrespectfully of him?" asked Paddy Logan.
"Sure, we're only saying that he's inclined to give the cold shoulder to
those he looks upon as his inferiors in rank. And the belief is,
Voules, that he's going to throw you overboard, notwithstanding all the
court you paid him."
"I say I never did pay him court," said Voules, emphatically. "He did
me the honour to select me as his friend, and I fully believe that he
intends to treat me as a friend in future."
"`The proof of the pudding is in the eating!'" answered Paddy. "As I
said, Voules, to show his affection, I have no doubt he'll make you dry
nurse to that pup of his. Faith! what an honour it will be!"
At this last remark, Voules was nearly boiling over with rage, but just
then, as the whole mess was against him, he saw that it would not do to
give away to his feelings, and Paddy Logan continued--
"When you last accompanied Oswald--I mane his lordship--to Elverston
Hall, you thought instead of joining us again, you would have got your
promotion, as you always boasted that the marquis had promised to obtain
it for you."
"I boasted of no such thing!" cried Voules, scarcely able longer to
restrain himself. "I merely said that the marquis had promised to give
me his interest as soon as his son had been promoted. Before many
months are over, I expect to get my step and be appointed to some ship
on the East Indian station."
As may be supposed, his messmates watched him whenever he was speaking
to Lord Reginald, to observe the terms he was on. Voules was evidently
himself not very confident about the matter. Instead of taking his arm
and walking up and down the quarter-deck, on the larboard or lee side,
as he had been accustomed to do, he approached the lieutenant with the
usual mark of respect shown by an inferior to a superior officer, always
addressing him as "My lord," and looking highly pleased on all occasions
when spoken to. It was asserted in the berth that there must have been
some difference between them, or that Voules had offended the young
lord, but what it was no one could exactly tell. However, by his humble
conduct, Voules won his way back into the good graces of Lord Reginald,
who did not find either of his brother officers or the lieutenant of
marines or purser very genial companions. The two lieutenants were
middle-aged men, who had gained their present position by long service
and hard work, and they looked with a jealous eye on one who had been
placed on the next ratline below them, over the heads of many older men
than himself. The marine officer was a married man, rather grave and
saturnine, and the purser had Republican tendencies, though he did not
exhibit them except in the expression of his feelings towards lords and
big-wigs in general.
Thus Lord Reginald was induced to seek the society of Voules and his
former messmates more than he otherwise might have done. As Paddy had
surmised, Lord Reginald did actually tell Voules that he should be much
obliged if he would look after his pup Neptune, and the toady was
frequently seen carrying its food to the dog, washing and brushing it,
and attempting to teach it various tricks. Before long a drawing
appeared, with Voules dressed as a nurse, a mob cap on his head, a bowl
of pap by his side, from which, spoon in hand, he was feeding the puppy
on his knees, while a figure, which could not fail to be recognised as
that of Lord Reginald, was standing by, saying, "You make a capital
nurse, and I shall be happy to recommend you to a similar situation."
It was handed about among the members of the mess, until somehow or
other it reached the gun-room. When Lord Reginald saw it, he laughed
heartily, and declared that he must show it to poor old Toady.
He occasionally dined in due course with the captain. On such occasions
his rank enabled him to speak more familiarly than any of the other
officers would have done, with the exception perhaps of the first
lieutenant. Captain Moubray was not the man to have allowed him to take
the slightest liberty on duty. Lord Reginald had seen Dick Hargrave,
with the other men from the cutter, come on board, and as he eyed the
young sailor the ill feelings with which he had before regarded him
regained their ascendancy in his bosom. Dick would willingly have kept
out of his way, but in the course of duty they were constantly brought
together, when he saw by the glances the third lieutenant cast at him,
and the tone of his voice, that he was as much disliked as ever. His
own proud spirit was aroused. He could not help often returning glance
for glance, though he kept his lips closed to prevent himself saying
anything which could be taken hold of. Lord Reginald never addressed
him by name, but frequently shouted at him, and bestowed epithets of
which--"You lazy hound!"
"You skulking rascal!" were among the least offensive.
Dick bore this as other men had to bear it from their officers in those
days, and although from any one else he would have been very indifferent
to such treatment, he felt little inclination to brook it from one whom
he considered had so wronged him.
It must not be supposed that Lord Reginald fancied that he was acting in
a revengeful spirit towards Richard Hargrave. He considered that he had
formed a correct opinion of Dick, whom he looked upon as a daring young
ruffian, and that Captain Moubray had acted unwisely in not punishing
him for deserting the ship. He ventured, even, after introducing the
subject of desertion, to express his opinion of Richard Hargrave, Ben
Rudall, and other men of extremely doubtful characters whom he classed
together. "They come from my part of the country," he observed, "and
are all smugglers to the backbone, ready for any sort of outrage. At
one time my father lived in dread of having his house burnt down by
them, so fearful were the threats of vengeance they uttered in
consequence of his determination of putting a stop to their illegal
practices. That young Hargrave was a poacher as well as a smuggler, and
nothing but strict discipline can keep him in order."
The captain bit his lip, for he could not fail to see at what the third
lieutenant was driving. "They cannot poach or smuggle here, and the
daring and hardihood they have exhibited in their illegal calling may be
turned to good account," he answered. "They are the fellows to send on
any dangerous or difficult undertaking, and we may feel very sure that
they will not show the white feather."
"Young Hargrave is a desperate ruffian, notwithstanding, and I wouldn't
trust him," muttered Lord Reginald.
"He has shown his ruffianism by acting very gallantly on two occasions,
I understand," observed the captain. "I wish we had a couple of hundred
young fellows on board of the same description. After a few months'
training they become prime seamen, and will fight their guns to the
last."
Under ordinary circumstances, during a long voyage, time would have hung
heavily on the hands of the officers, but with a large convoy to look
to, there was plenty to do at all hours of the day and night. Not only
had the merchantmen to be watched, but a bright look-out had to be kept
for strange sails, especially for any daring privateers, who, tempted
with the prospect of obtaining a rich booty, might pounce down on some
unfortunate trader during a dark night and carry her off. This had
actually been done on several occasions, and Captain Moubray endeavoured
to impress upon the masters of the vessels under his charge the
importance of sailing in due order together, and keeping a strict watch
at night. The convoy hove to off Saint Helena, to obtain fresh
provisions and water. The line was passed without any enemy having been
encountered, when, falling in with the south-east trade wind, they got
well to the southward, after which with a fair breeze they stood to the
eastward on their passage round the Cape of Good Hope. It was
considered advisable not to put into Table Bay, to avoid the risk of
information being given to the enemy of their whereabouts. Unusually
fine weather had hitherto been enjoyed, and the ships keeping well
together at length entered the Indian Ocean.
Although the masters of the merchantmen generally strictly obeyed
orders, there were one or two who caused more trouble than all the
others put together, by sometimes carrying too much sail and getting
ahead of the convoy, sometimes too little and lagging astern, knowing
that they could always regain their position. This occurred especially
at night, when the skippers, wishing to save their crews the trouble of
making sail, would wait until daylight to do so.
One evening a strange sail had been seen to the northward, and Captain
Moubray had ordered the _Ione_ to go in chase and ascertain her
character, while he shortened sail so as to bring the _Wolf_ on the
weather quarter of most of the ships. At dark the _Ione_ had not
returned, though Captain Moubray ordered a look-out to be kept for her,
expecting every moment to see her signal. At the same time, of course,
a constant watch was kept on the various vessels of the convoy, which
could be seen like so many dark shadows gliding over the ocean to
leeward, each carrying a light to show its position.
It was blowing a fresh breeze from the north-west, but there was not
much sea on. The captain frequently came on deck, inquiring whether the
_Ione_ had yet shown her number. The same answer had been returned that
no light had been seen to windward. He was pacing the quarter-deck with
his night-glass in his hand, when the sound of a gun, which seemed to
come up far away from the southward, reached his ears.
"What can that be?" he asked of the first lieutenant, who just then
joined him.
"That's more than I can positively say," answered Mr Curling. "It must
be a signal from one of the convoy, something must have happened to her,
and she wishes to draw our attention."
While he was speaking the sound of another gun came up from the same
direction.
"We will run down and see what's the matter," said the captain; "but you
need not turn the hands up at present."
The helm was put up, the yards squared away, and the frigate, allowing
the sternmost of the merchantmen to pass her, ran down in the direction
whence the sound of the firing had come, and where, a long way off, a
light could be seen, showing the whereabouts of the vessel supposed to
be in distress. Several times the sound of a gun was heard, and the
frigate, as she drew nearer, returned the signal. All eyes were
directed towards the light, when flashes were seen, the rattle of small
arms was heard over the clashing of cutlasses, and some declared that
they could distinguish the shouts and cries of men engaged in mortal
combat.
"There can be no doubt as to what is passing. Turn up the hands,
Curling. There seems to be either mutiny on board the ship, or some
other vessel has run her aboard. If we attempt to go alongside with
this sea on, we shall too probably sink both together, while if we fire
into one, we may injure our friends. We must board her in the boats.
We will stand on, shorten sail, heave the ship to, then lower them and
let them drop alongside."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the first lieutenant, and immediately issued the
necessary orders.
So fiercely engaged all the time were the two vessels, that no signal
was made by the English merchantman to show that she was aware help was
at hand. The captain's orders were quickly executed, and the frigate
now being on the weather bows of the two ships, the boats were lowered
and placed under the command of the second and third lieutenants, Mr
Bitts, Voules, Paddy Logan, and another midshipman, with a party of
marines, going in them. They had not far to pull, for the vessels going
ahead, the boats dropped alongside the English merchantman, which was to
windward.
Led by Mr Jager, Lord Reginald and Mr Bitts quickly clambered up her
side, and reached her deck, where a fierce struggle was taking place,
the enemy having boarded and almost overcome her crew, who, however,
though many of their number had fallen, were still struggling manfully.
They cheered as they discovered the timely assistance which had arrived.
Mr Jager and his party furiously attacking the enemy, soon turned the
tide of war and drove them back to the starboard bulwarks, where the
bravest in vain attempted to defend themselves. Those who could manage
it leapt back on board their own vessel, others making the attempt were
cut down, and not a man of the remainder escaped, all being killed or
desperately wounded by the onslaught of the _Wolf's_ crew.
The Frenchmen were in the mean time attempting to cast off the grappling
irons, but in the darkness and confusion they were unable to succeed.
"Follow me, my lads! We must board the enemy. It will not do to let
her get away," cried the lieutenant.
Dick, who was near him, with Ben Rudall and several other men, sprang
into the main rigging of the privateer, for such she appeared to be, and
clearing a space before them with their whirling cutlasses, leapt down
on her deck. Others came after them. One party following Mr Jager,
drove the enemy forward, where the larger part of them were assembled;
while Lord Reginald and the boatswain attacked those on the
quarter-deck, compelling them inch by inch to give way, until the poop
was gained.
The struggle did not last long. Cries for quarter were heard from the
people forward as well as from the after part of the ship, but the crew
of the English merchant vessel seemed little disposed to grant it, and
continued hacking away at every Frenchman they could come up with.
Again and again Mr Jager had to order the combatants to desist, and
shouted to the Frenchmen to throw down their weapons.
"Hold, my men! Don't you see the enemy have given in?" he exclaimed.
"We are bound to show them mercy, as they ask for it."
"It's mighty little we can see how to know friend from enemy," cried a
voice from among the seamen.
"Bring a lantern or two along here," cried the lieutenant, and he called
out to the Frenchmen to throw down their weapons, while he peremptorily
ordered his own men to desist from striking.
Lord Reginald and the boatswain had in the mean time driven their
opponents, the larger number of whom were officers of the ship, right
aft to the starboard quarter, where they stood grouped together,
defending themselves bravely until, seeing that all hope was gone, they
too cried out for quarter.
"Quarter! Yes, we'll quarter you!" cried Mr Bitts the boatswain.
"Come on, lads! We shouldn't let such ruffians as these live."
Lord Reginald, however, interposed, and speaking French well, directed
his hard-pressed foes to throw down their swords and they should be
safe. It was not without difficulty, however, that he restrained the
merchant seamen from rushing in and cutting them down. Unfortunately,
some Frenchmen who had leapt below, maddened by their defeat, fired up
the hatchway, when the victors, springing down after them, followed them
round the deck, killing all they met with.
On the lanterns being brought, the deck presented a fearful scene, for
more than half of the crew lay dead or desperately wounded. The
survivors, with their officers, three of whom only had escaped, were
mustered, and being deprived of the pistols and long knives generally
worn in their belts, were conveyed across the deck of the trader into
the boats. A savage, sunburnt crew they appeared as the light of the
lantern fell on their countenances, and doubts were entertained whether
they could claim to be even privateersmen, so greatly did they resemble
the most desperate of pirates.
The deck of the merchantman had even a more fearful aspect than that of
her foe. Besides the Frenchmen who had been killed, and whose bodies
lay thick under the starboard bulwarks, nearly a fourth of her people
had been shot or cut down, while bravely defending their ship. Among
them was the master, who had been nearly the last to fall, just before
the man-of-war's men leaped on board.
His body presented several wounds; one through his breast had evidently
been fatal. He was a strongly built man, with a sunburnt visage.
Probably he had been endeavouring, by his courageous resistance, to
redeem his fault in not more carefully attending to his sailing
directions.
The first officer presented himself with his arm hanging loosely by his
side, from a severe cut in the shoulder and another wound in his leg,
while the second and third were both more or less hurt.
The first officer informed Mr Jager that they had taken the privateer
for one of the convoy. That when hailed a reply was given in English,
and that the same voice inquired whether they had a surgeon on board, as
their own had gone mad, and they had three sick people who required
immediate attendance. While the surgeon was preparing to go, and they
were thus thrown off their guard, the stranger was seen to be sheering
alongside. The master, suspecting treachery, called up the watch below,
and ordered all on deck to seize such weapons as were at hand to resist
the boarders, while he directed the rest of the people to arm
themselves.
Scarcely were the crew thus partially prepared for an attack, than the
stranger, running alongside, threw grappling irons aboard them. On this
the master had the gun fired, which was first heard on board the
frigate. His promptness had saved the ship. The crew well knew that
they were fighting for their lives.
As soon as one party had armed themselves completely they took the
places of those who had received the first attack and had driven the
enemy back. In vain, however, they attempted to cast off the grappling
irons. The ships' yards had become locked, and no effort they could
make could separate them. Thus, had not the frigate come to their
assistance, they must have been taken. Whether or not the privateer
would have succeeded in getting off with them was doubtful. As soon as
the prisoners had been secured, Mr Jager ordered Lord Reginald and the
boatswain to return on board the frigate and bring back the captain's
orders. In the meat time he and the men remaining with him, aided by
the crew of the merchant vessel, got the two ships free from each other,
and, making sail, stood for the frigate, which, as soon as the boats got
alongside, had kept away. Neither ship was injured, except where their
sides had ground together, and the yards when interlocked had torn the
canvas and carried away some blocks and ropes.
Some time elapsed, during which the _Wolf_ had been making signals to
the rest of the convoy, to put them on their guard, lest other ships of
the enemy should be in the neighbourhood. Dick and Ben had remained on
board the prize.
"I say, I wonder who'll have charge of this craft," observed the latter
to Dick. "I hope it will be Mr Jager. She's a fine little ship,
carries twenty-four guns, and would make a capital cruiser. If the
captain commissions her, and sends her away to play the same game on the
enemy that she's been playing on our ships, we may chance to fill our
pockets with prize-money. I think it's very likely, too, and if Mr
Jager gets command we shall have an officer who'll keep his eye open,
and not let the grass grow under his feet."
"I should like it well enough, especially as we shall be free of that
Lord Reginald and Toady Voules," said Dick. "They have been as bad as
ever lately; one sets on the other. Voules knows that the third
lieutenant hates me, and so, to curry favour with him, he loses no
chance of bullying me. I have kept out of trouble as yet, but I don't
know how long I shall be able to do so."
"But what if the toady be sent with us? He is on board now, and may be
appointed to do duty as first lieutenant," remarked Ben.
"I shouldn't mind him alone," answered Dick. "When he hasn't his master
to hound him on, he'll let me alone. He does it to please the other,
and when Lord Reginald's eye is off him, he won't bother himself about
me."
As may be supposed, Ben and Dick had very little time for conversation.
They were speedily called to trim sails, and the scanty crew of the
prize, beginning to get weary from their constant exertions, were
looking out for the frigate to heave to, a sign that the boats were
about to return. She waited, however, until daylight broke, when once
more, having gathered the convoy together, she hove to, and the prize
coming up, doing the same, the boats were soon alongside.
"I say, Ben," said Dick, as they approached, "it is my belief that Lord
Reginald is to have command, for there he sits, with his dog by his
side, and a big portmanteau between his knees. I'd sooner be out of
this craft than in her. I hope we shall be sent on board the frigate
again."
Dick was right. Lord Reginald, his dog and portmanteau, were soon on
board. He presented some papers to Mr Jager, who replied--
"Very well, I congratulate you on having so fine a command, and I
confess that I wish I had been able to take charge of the prize, but as
the doctor considers me unfit to be away from him, I must submit. Who
are to form the prize crew?"
"Voules and Lucas, the men on board, as well as the men I brought with
me," answered Lord Reginald. "They'll do very well, and, as we are
rather short-handed, no more could be spared from the frigate."
"Then all I have to do is to wish you good-bye and a pleasant cruise.
It's fortunate we had not to fire into her, or the vessel must have gone
into harbour to refit. Now she's as well able to keep the sea as she
ever was."
"I hope her late master was a man of taste, and has some good curry and
plenty of cuddy stores," said the young lord, laughing; "and I say,
Jager, I wish you'd ask the captain to send me back the French cook.
He'll know best how to dress his own provisions, and I should like to
keep a good table while I am on board."
"I'll do your bidding," answered Mr Jager, and shaking hands with Lord
Reginald and his two subordinates, he returned in the boat to the
frigate.
The _Marie_ proved herself to be a capital sailer, a quality her crew
had counted on when they ventured to attack the _Dunmore Castle_,
expecting to be able to pillage her and get away before daylight.
Lord Reginald walked the deck with a self-satisfied air, which was well
imitated by Voules and Lucas. The young lord invited them into the
cabin to mess with him, an honour they gladly accepted. "We shall have
a jolly time of it," he said, "and I hope old Moubray will send us on an
independent cruise when we get to Java."
"He'll have to send us more men, then, for we are too short-handed to
meet an enemy," said Voules; "otherwise, I'd rather not go at all."
"No fear on that score," observed Lord Reginald. "We shall get as many
as we want out of the merchant vessels. They must spare us their men,
whether they like it or not. By-the-by, that young Hargrave is on
board; I would have dispensed with his services. The very sight of him
is annoying. He eyes me with the same daring, impudent look he always
did, and I shouldn't be surprised if he and the other smuggler were to
try and get up a mutiny on board, if they have the opportunity."
"I'll see that he plays no trick of that sort," answered Voules. "I'll
take the spirit out of him, depend upon it, and make him wish that he
had remained on board the frigate."
"I don't want him treated unjustly, or punished unless he gives occasion
by his conduct," remarked Lord Reginald.
"Oh, no, no," answered Voules, with a significant smile; "of course not.
The truth is, I have a grudge against him myself. The other night I
heard him, when he didn't know I was near, speaking of me as `Toady
Voules.'"
"Did he, indeed?" said Lord Reginald, leaning back and laughing. "Why,
that's the name you've got in the mess. Ah, ah, ah! However, for one
of the men to make use of it is next door to mutiny. They must not be
allowed to speak so disrespectfully of their officers."
Voules, who was considerably irritated by his superior's remark, did not
fail to exercise his ill feelings on Dick, and not a day passed that he
did not find some excuse for ill treating him and making him perform the
most unpleasant duties. Voules, like other men of mean spirit,
delighted in acting the tyrant; indeed, had he wished to create a
mutiny, he took the most effectual means of causing one. He had now
numberless opportunities which he could not have obtained on board the
frigate. He was constantly abusing the men during every operation they
were ordered to perform, though his chief displeasure fell on the heads
of Ben and Dick, who were instantly placed on the black list, when their
grog was stopped and they were compelled to walk the deck with a shot in
each hand during their watch below, or other punishments were inflicted.
Dick, as he had resolved, kept his temper and submitted without
complaint to this injustice; but Ben nourished a spirit of revenge, and
secretly formed a plan for wreaking his vengeance on the heads of his
persecutors. With this object in view, he found out who among the crew
were most dissatisfied and were likely to join him in his project. He
did not, however, venture to speak to Dick. He fully believed that he
should in time win him over. "He'll do something or other before long,
which will rouse even his spirit," he said to himself, and "then he'll
be more ready than any of us to do what I want."
Although the provisions in the cuddy were of good quality, and there was
a sufficient supply for ten times the number of the commander's limited
mess, those of the crew were scanty and of bad quality, and it seemed
surprising that Frenchmen should have consented to live upon such fare.
The steward told the men of the abundance which existed aft, but when
they complained through Mr Voules to Lord Reginald, they were told that
the provisions intended for the cabin could not be spared, and that they
must be content with what they had got. Neither did Dick nor any of his
officers dream of what was going forward.
The convoy was approaching its destination. The _Ione_ had rejoined the
day after the capture of the _Marie_, but no other event of general
importance had occurred. The fleet was now within two hundred miles of
the Straits of Sunda, when from the masthead of the _Marie_, which was
to leeward, a sail was seen to the southward.
She immediately communicated this by signal to the _Wolf_, and received
in return an order to chase the stranger and ascertain her character.
The other part of the signal was either not seen, or misunderstood by
Lucas. "Up with the helm!" cried Lord Reginald; "square away the yards!
If the fellow doesn't appear to be too tough a customer, we will bring
him to action and sail back in triumph."
The young lord did not observe the expression which passed over Voules's
countenance, but fully believed that they had been ordered to chase,
and, if to chase, to fight the vessel in sight, should she not prove to
be an enemy of overwhelming force. Though Voules had never shown the
white feather, he was decidedly prudent, and he remembered the _Maria's_
limited crew, which, though sufficient to navigate her, was not strong
enough to man the guns.
The _Marie_ looked more formidable than she really was, and as she
approached the stranger made all sail to escape. The latter soon showed
that her sailing powers were not much inferior to those of the _Marie_,
by keeping almost the same distance ahead as she had been when she first
discovered that she was pursued.
The _Marie_ soon lost sight of the fleet. Voules suggested that as
there was no probability of coming up with the chase for many hours,
that they should haul their wind and stand back.
"Certainly I will not do that," answered Lord Reginald. "Captain
Moubray must have known that we could not come up with her in a hurry,
and intended that we should overhaul her. We are gaining on her, and if
we continue the chase and do not lose sight of her during the night, we
shall probably, some time to-morrow, get alongside."
"If we get so far away we shall find it no easy matter to regain the
fleet," observed Voules. "The chase may not prove to be worth the
trouble we are taking to capture her."
"That remains to be proved," answered Lord Reginald. "If you feel
uncomfortable, turn in and go to sleep, perhaps when you awake you will
find that we have fought an action, and taken the enemy."
Voules reddened at the taunt. It was a cruel return, he thought, for
all the flattery he had bestowed on the young lord. "I have no wish to
avoid a fight, but I say again, there is no chance of its taking place
for many hours to come, at least at the slow rate at which we are now
overhauling the chase, and if we take her--which is problematical--we
shall find it a difficult matter to rejoin the convoy."
Lord Reginald was in one of his obstinate moods. The more Voules urged
him to abandon the chase, the more determined he was to continue it.
The wind remained fresh, and he asserted that they were gaining on the
chase.
Dick and Ben were stationed forward.
"How soon do you think we shall come up with that craft?" asked Dick.
"Maybe to-morrow and maybe the next day, if we follow her long enough
and the wind doesn't shift. But if it does, and she slips away to
windward, the chances are we shan't see her again. The weather doesn't
look very settled to my eye, though I am not accustomed to these seas,
but I have heard tell that it blows pretty strong hereabouts at times."
The day wore on; still the chase kept well ahead. She was probably
bound to one of the Dutch settlements in the Moluccas, and intended to
pass through the Straits of Lombok or some other passage into those seas
to the east of Java.
Night came on. It was bright, and the stranger could still be
distinguished as she glided over the moonlit sea.
"Everything is in our favour," observed Lord Reginald to Voules; "but we
must take care not to lose sight of her for a moment. Take care that
sharp-eyed fellows are stationed on the forecastle. I must turn in for
a spell, though do not fail to call me should anything occur."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Voules, though he grumbled not a little, as he
went forward to see that his lordship's orders were carried out. He
found Ben and Dick on the forecastle. "Can you see the chase?" he
asked, pretending not to notice who they were.
"Ay, ay, sir. It must be a pretty deal darker than it now is, not to
see her," answered Ben.
"Well, well, take care that you keep her in sight, and sing out if she
changes her course."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered Ben, and Voules went aft again earnestly hoping
that thick weather would come on, and that the chase would be lost sight
of. He could then throw the blame on the two look-out men, who would
not be likely to escape punishment. They, however, during their watch,
had no difficulty in keeping the chase in sight; when they turned in she
appeared right ahead as clear as ever, with the moonbeams shining on her
white canvas.
When Lord Reginald came on deck at the commencement of the morning
watch, the chase could still be seen, and he felt convinced that the
_Marie_ had gained upon her. This made him determined to hold on. The
sky, however, gave indications of a change of weather. Dark clouds were
gathering in the horizon astern, while the wind came in fitful gusts,
sometimes falling so much that the sails flapped against the masts. As
the sun rose, the whole sky was suffused with a fiery glow, which,
reflected on the ocean, made it appear like a sea of burnished copper.
As the sun rose higher the heat became almost unbearable, growing more
and more oppressive.
"Does your lordship recollect that we are in the region of hurricanes?"
asked Voules. "It would be prudent to shorten sail."
"Not until the chase does, though. I wouldn't for much lose the chance
of coming up with her. If we hold on for another two or three hours, we
can get her within range of our guns. We have been gaining on her
faster than ever lately."
"If the wind catches us and whips the masts out of the ship, the
`holding on' will do us little good," replied Voules.
"Well, we will see about it by-and-by," said Lord Reginald, who was on
the point of going down below to breakfast, the steward having just
announced that the meal was ready.
The midshipman Lucas was left in charge of the deck. Soon afterwards an
old seaman, who acted as quartermaster, came up to him. Touching his
hat, he said--
"Won't you order the hands to shorten sail, sir? We can't tell when we
shall have the wind down upon us, and we shall be losing some of our
spars, if no worse happens."
"His lordship wants to come up with the chase first, though I should be
glad to have some canvas taken in."
Just then the look-out forward shouted, "The chase is shortening sail,
and is hauling up to the northward!"
Lucas ran aft and shouted down through the skylight, announcing what had
occurred. "Shall we shorten sail, too, sir?" he asked.
Voules sprang on deck, and looking round him, without waiting for Lord
Reginald's orders cried out, "All hands shorten sail!"
The royals were quickly handed, but there was brief time to stow the
canvas before the wind filled the sails, and away flew the ship before
it. The fore top-gallant sail, imperfectly secured, blew out, and in an
instant was torn into shreds, which fluttered wildly for a few seconds,
and became wrapped in inextricable coils round the yard. The courses
were next brailed up, but it was hard work to stow them. Lord Reginald
saw, when too late, that it would have been wiser to shorten sail before
the wind struck the ship. All hands were now employed in reefing the
topsails, for the masts bent like willow wands. Though the ship was
kept before the wind, there was great risk of their being carried away.
Two hands were sent to the helm, but even they had the greatest
difficulty to steer the ship. The only hope of saving the masts was in
keeping directly before the wind until the canvas could be taken off
her. The mizzen-topsail had been furled. The main-topsail was already
on the cap, when a loud report was heard as it was split, and fluttering
violently threatened to carry away the men off the yard.
The crew with their knives endeavoured to cut it adrift, when they were
called down to assist in securing the foresail. It was of the greatest
importance to keep head sail on the ship, lest she should broach to.
The sea was rising, sending the spray in thick masses over the ship,
obscuring all objects round her.
Dick and Ben had been actively engaged aloft.
"I say, Ben, what's become of the chase?" asked Dick, shading his eyes
and looking out ahead through the driving sheets of spray.
"That's more than you or I or any one else can tell. She may be where
she was, or she mayn't. Mortal eyes can't see through that thick mist
ahead, and we are not likely to set ours on her again even if she keeps
afloat, and that's more than I can say any ship will do if it comes on
to blow much harder than it does now. I thought I knew what a gale of
wind was, but this beats all I have ever seen. Old Harry Cane rampaging
about on board with a vengeance!"
The hurricane had in truth burst on the _Marie_, and the utmost skill of
the best seamen was required to preserve her from destruction. All that
day she ran on before the wind. Spilling-lines had been got over the
closely reefed fore-topsail, but even then it seemed that the sail would
break away. With a report like a clap of thunder the mizzen-topsail was
blown clean away from the bolt ropes. The royal masts were seen bending
about like fishing-rods, first one way then the other. The lee clue of
the fore top-gallant sail was blown adrift. Two hands went aloft to
endeavour to stow it. One of the poor fellows, in making the attempt,
was torn from his hold. A wild shriek was heard as he sank into the
seething foam, without hope of being rescued. The other, pale and
trembling, came down, leaving the sails fluttering wildly. Scarcely had
he reached the deck than away went the fore top-gallant mast over the
side.
Lord Reginald bravely maintained his presence of mind, endeavouring to
act for the best, as he stood holding on to the mizzen rigging while he
issued his orders. Voules looked pale and anxious; he comprehended
fully the dangerous position of the ship. Unknown islands were ahead,
against one of which she might strike with but little warning. Again he
urged the men to keep a lookout, not for the chase but for land, now so
much dreaded.
Lord Reginald came aft, and stood by his friend, "Well, Voules; things
don't look promising," he said, in as cheerful a voice as he could
command.
"No, and they may look worse, if we find ourselves running down on one
of the many islands which dot these seas."
"We must keep a bright look-out, and haul up in time," replied the young
commander of the _Marie_.
"But if we do haul up with this hurricane raging and this sea running,
we may drift on shore notwithstanding," answered Voules. "Our only
chance will be to endeavour to get round the island, if we see it in
time, and to anchor under its lee, if holding ground can be found, and
wait there until the storm is over."
"We will have a look at the chart, and ascertain how far off the land
is," said Lord Reginald.
Going below, he and Voules eagerly examined the chart. No islands
appeared for some distance ahead. To the northward, was the east end of
Java, with Bali, Sumbawa, and Floris, extending in a long line beyond
it. Should the wind shift to the southward, they might run through one
of the passages existing between those islands; but still, the ship was
a considerable distance to the southward of them, and they hoped that
the hurricane would cease before they were driven thus far. On
returning on deck, the wind appeared to have increased rather than
decreased. As they were standing together, looking anxiously at the
bending masts, the remaining top-gallant sails were torn from their
lashings, and before any hands could be sent aloft to secure them, the
masts themselves were carried away and the lately trim ship looked now
almost a wreck. To cut them clear was a work of no little danger. The
men saw what was required. Several volunteered, notwithstanding the
risk they ran, to go aloft. Among them was Dick. With knives and axes
they cut desperately at the rigging, until, as the ship heeled over,
they fell clear of her into the water. Relieved of so much top hamper,
she appeared to be greatly eased. Another night was approaching, but
the storm raged as furiously as before. All night long the ship ran on,
the seas increasing in height, and threatening every instant to poop
her. Although for a short time Lord Reginald turned in, yet neither he
nor any one on board could obtain much sleep. Several times he came on
deck, only to see the ship labouring on amid the foaming billows.
Another morning dawned, the weather looking as wild as on the previous
day. Few on board failed to ask themselves, "Shall we see another
sunset?" Again and again Lord Reginald and Voules examined the chart,
with anxious forebodings of evil. They saw that numerous islands and
reefs lay ahead of them. Lord Reginald proposed hauling the ship up
before dark, to escape the risk of running on one of them during the
night. Voules feared that if it was done the canvas would not stand,
and that she would then be drifted helplessly on any reef or island in
her way. No sun was to be seen; the whole sky wore one uniformly leaden
hue, while the dark seas of the same tint rose and fell, their tops
covered with masses of foam which, blown off by the wind, filled the
atmosphere. "Should there come a lull, we will haul up," exclaimed Lord
Reginald. "We shall do it at our peril," observed Voules. "It must be
done," was the answer. "Stand by to haul out the spanker! Starboard
the helm!"
The ship as she came to heeled over almost on her beam ends, while the
seas broke over her, driving the masses of spray into the eyes of the
crew, so that they could scarcely see a few yards before them, while the
lee side of the deck was almost under water. Although no signs of a
leak had hitherto been discovered, the acting carpenter, who had been
ordered to sound the well, came aft with a pale face, announcing that a
large quantity of water had found its way below.
"Man the pumps!" was the answer, and the already hard-worked crew were
soon labouring away to clear the ship. So often, however, were the
nozzles of the pumps under water, that the men could not tell whether
they were drawing or not, and the cry, "Hold on for your lives!"
compelled them frequently to let go and clamber into the rigging, or
hold on by the stanchions, while a furious sea swept over the deck,
threatening to carry them away. Again darkness had come on. Except a
closely reefed fore-topsail and mizzen-trysail, not a sail remained.
She was furiously plunging into the seas, when once more a report was
heard, and the fore-topsail was seen blowing away in shreds. Directly
afterwards the spanker gaff came down, and now not a shred of canvas
remained, the ship in consequence drifting bodily to leeward. Most of
the crew were forward, the officers and some of the men remaining on the
poop. Among the former were Dick and Ben.
"I thought things were getting very bad," said Ben. "They could not be
worse."
"What, then, do you think will happen?" asked Dick. "Why, we shall
either go down or be driven ashore. It matters little which, for if the
ship strikes there's little chance of any of us reaching the land, with
these seas breaking over her, and then sweeping everything before them.
I know what it is on our own coast. With such a hurricane as we have
got blowing, it will be ten times worse."
"Then is there no chance of saving our lives if we strike?" asked Dick.
"Our best chance is to get hold of a piece of wreck and hold fast to it.
You may be washed on shore, or you may be carried out to sea--it is six
of one and half a dozen of the other. You may depend upon it, there's a
watery grave for some of us before the night is over."
Dick felt his heart sink, but he remembered the prayers his mother had
taught him. He tried to pray for himself; he knew, too, that she would
be praying for him. His courage rose, he determined to struggle bravely
for life.
Ben advised that they should go forward and stick to the forecastle.
"That generally holds together the longest, and will give us a better
chance of life," he observed. "Don't let go until the ship breaks up,
and then you will have no choice, and must do as I before told you."
Dick replied that he would follow his advice, and they made their way to
the forecastle.
As may be supposed, it was only by speaking at the tops of their voices
that they could make each other heard. Their sentences, therefore, were
brief and to the point. In the mean time, Lord Reginald, with Voules
and Lucas, clung on to the mizzen rigging; near them were gathered the
few men who had come aft. Anxiously they looked to leeward, hoping
against hope that they might still be at a distance from land. The
stout ship was drifted on, the hapless people on board frequently being
covered by the seas which broke over her. At last Voules uttered an
exclamation of dismay.
"I caught sight of land close under our lee; before ten minutes are over
we shall be upon it," he cried out; "and Heaven have mercy on our
souls!"
"We must look out for a spot on which to run her, and if we lose her, we
may save our lives," said Lord Reginald.
But although the attempt was made, the ship would not answer her helm.
An anxious gaze was cast at the dark shore, on which the roar of the
breakers could be distinctly heard. All they could now do was to cling
to the bulwarks until the fatal crash came, and after that, how long the
stout ship would hold together it was impossible to say. Much would
depend upon the ground on which she was thrown. If on rocks projecting
from the shore, she would in all probability be soon dashed to pieces.
Even the stoutest seamen held their breath as they waited for the
inevitable catastrophe.
Lord Reginald, as he stood on the deck, could feel the ship now as she
rose, now as she fell in the trough of the sea, surging on closer and
closer to the dreaded coast. Those agonising moments were not to last
long. At length came a fearful crash. The mainmast, as if torn up by
some invisible hand, fell over the side, the foremast and mizzenmast
following in quick succession.
"She's struck, she's struck! All's lost, all's lost!" cried several of
the crew; while many who had hitherto shown ample courage in battle,
shrieked out in their agony of fear.
"Hold on, until the ship breaks up!" cried Lord Reginald. "We may have
a chance of getting on shore in the morning."
Though he gave this advice, he had little hope of its being followed.
Sea after sea continued to dash against the ship, and he feared, from
the cries which reached him, that many of his men were being torn from
their hold and carried away. He could just distinguish Voules and Lucas
clinging to the bulwarks a short distance from him. Now he cast his
eyes on the dark shore with a line of foaming breakers between him and
it. Then he looked seawards, and as he looked he saw an enormous black
wave advancing, higher, it seemed to him, than any of its predecessors.
On it came, and struck the ship, with a blow resounding louder than the
loudest thunder. The centre of the ship seemed to melt away with part
of the poop, carrying off several who had been clinging to it. No one
could render help to another. It was each man for himself. He saw a
figure, which he knew to be young Lucas, caught by the sea and whirled
round and round. Voules still remained, holding on to the bulwarks.
Then another sea came; he felt the poop breaking up beneath his feet.
In another instant he found himself among the foaming breakers,
surrounded by masses of wreck. He sank, but again coming to the
surface, clutched a piece of timber. It was of too small a size to
float him. He was rolled over and over, until compelled to let go. As
he did so he saw close to him a large beam, with a bolt projecting from
one end. Grasping the bolt, he got astride of the beam, being thus
enabled to keep his body above the water, though he ran a risk of having
his legs injured by the heavy pieces of wood dashing about on all sides.
In vain he shouted, to ascertain if Voules or Lucas were near him. The
only objects he could distinguish were the masses of dark timber amid
the white, foaming breakers, and the outline of the rocky shore. It
seemed even then doubtful whether he should ever reach that shore.
Once, indeed, he fancied that he saw a human form clinging to a spar at
no great distance from him, but unable to direct the movements of the
piece of timber on which he floated, he could render no assistance to
the hapless person, who returned no answer to his shouts. His own fate
seemed uncertain. Should the timber be dashed against the rocks, he
would in all probability be ground to pieces before he could escape, but
on looking towards the land, he fancied that he could make out a sandy
beach. He prayed that the timber to which he clung might be directed to
it. Still, as he heard the fearful roar of the breakers, and watched
the masses of foam which swept towards the shore, he felt the
uncertainty that he should ever reach it. Several times he was nearly
torn from his hold by the masses of wreck driven against him. His
strength was decreasing. Another sea came rolling on, it might wash him
from his hold. He clung to the bolt with all his might, and almost the
next moment he felt his feet touch the ground. At first he was afraid
of letting go. The second time he put down his feet he trod on the
sand. Fearful that the beam which had carried him in safety might roll
over and crush him, he let go, and making a last effort, struggled
upwards. The foaming seas washed round his legs, and threatened to
carry him back, but on he struggled, gasping for breath until the dry
ground was reached, and then, by one strenuous effort, getting out of
the reach of the water, his strength giving way, he sank to the ground,
utterly exhausted.