THE OUZEL GALLEY SAILS FOR DUBLIN--A STRANGE SAIL TO THE SOUTHWARD--
FOLLOWS THE OUZEL GALLEY--THE CHAMPION SENDS MR. FOLEY AND GERALD TO
PRESS SOME OF HER MEN--NORAH IN DUBLIN--MR. FOLEY AND GERALD IN COMMAND
OF A PRESSGANG--AN ADVENTURE ON THE LIBERTIES--A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER
CAPTURED--PRESSED MEN CARRIED OFF--ELLEN AND MR. FERRIS SAIL IN THE
OUZEL GALLEY--CAPTAIN TRACY AND NORAH RETURN TO WATERFORD--THE OUZEL
GALLEY WITH THE CONVOY BOUND FOR THE WEST INDIES--SHARP ACTION WITH
FRENCH FRIGATES--THE ENEMY BEATEN OFF.
Norah and Captain Tracy were on board the _Ouzel Galley_ before noon the
next day, accompanied by Owen. They had gone round to bid Mrs Massey
good-bye; it cost her much to part again so soon with her son, but she
was proud of seeing him captain of so fine a ship, and had learnt to
bear many trials with fortitude.
As the breeze blew up the harbour, the _Ouzel Galley_ had to beat out,
which, with a favourable tide, she succeeded in doing in a few tacks,
after which she had a fair wind for Dublin. Dan, coming aft, hat in
hand, welcomed Miss Norah, and wished she was going to sail with them
the next voyage--Pompey, who presumed on long service with Captain
Massey, imitating his example, and making an appropriate speech. Norah
thanked them, and, it is just possible, secretly wished that she was to
remain on board.
A bright look-out was kept for any sail which might heave in sight; for,
though Owen believed that there was no risk of encountering an enemy, it
was still possible that a French privateer might be on the watch to pick
up any merchant vessel which might come within her grasp. The wind
fell, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but little progress during the night.
Whatever others might have done, Norah did not complain; she was in no
hurry to have the trip over. Dawn had just broken, when, as a mist
which had for some hours hung over the ocean began to clear away, a hand
who had been sent aloft shouted out, "A sail to the southward!" Owen,
who was on deck, at once went to the mast-head to take a look at the
stranger. She was a large ship under all sail, but the mist prevented
him from making out very clearly what she was.
"She is bringing up the breeze," observed Captain Massey, when he
returned on deck; "but as we shall probably get it before long, we may
keep ahead of her."
"We'll try our best to do that same," said the old captain; "it would be
hard to be trapped just as we are going into port."
"I should never forgive myself for having allowed you and Norah to come
on board," said Owen, feeling much more anxious than he would have done
had he been alone.
"Don't trouble yourself about that, lad," answered the captain; "she is
more likely to be a British ship than a Frenchman, and she hasn't got up
to us yet, nor will she, I trust, before we are safe in the Liffey. I
shall be glad, however, when we get the breeze."
They had not long to wait before cat's-paws were seen playing over the
surface of the ocean. The sails were trimmed, and the ship began to
glide through the water; faster and faster she moved, but the stranger
astern still gained on her. Norah soon followed her father on deck, and
the rising sun shining on the white canvas of the ship astern revealed
her more clearly to view.
"Is that ship chasing us?" she asked, with a little trepidation in her
voice.
"She is following in our wake, but she may be a friend for all that,"
answered Owen, anxious not to alarm Norah. "Should she prove to be a
foe, we'll do our best to keep ahead of her. Fortunately, we have a
port to run for, and have every chance of gaining it before she comes up
with us. See, we have the Wicklow mountains already in sight, and it
will not take us many hours to reach Dublin if the wind holds as it does
now."
"I quite agree with you, Owen; we have very little cause to fear, go
we'll go below and take our breakfasts with good appetite," said the
captain, the steward having just announced that the meal was ready.
On returning on deck they could perceive no change in the relative
position of the vessels; but as the day drew on the wind dropped, and
the stranger appeared to gain on them. Still they made some way, and
could distinguish the Round Tower and ruined house on Dalkey Island, off
the Wicklow coast, when it fell perfectly calm, and though the Bay of
Dublin was almost in sight, they were unable to reach it. The old
captain took many a glance through his spy-glass at the ship astern.
"She looks more like an English man-of-war than a Frenchman," he said to
Owen; "see what you make of her."
"I agree with you, sir," said Owen. "She is standing after us simply
because she is bound to the same port, and if so, we need not trouble
ourselves further about her; anyway, we shall be safe at anchor before
long, and an enemy would scarcely venture into the bay to cut us out."
Still Owen, not being altogether free from anxiety, walked the deck the
greater part of the night, waiting for a breeze. It came at length,
towards the end of the middle watch, and as before, astern. He had lost
sight of the stranger during the hours of darkness, but when dawn broke,
as the _Ouzel Galley_ was off Kingstown, he saw her coming up rapidly
not a mile away. With the increasing daylight he made her out, however,
to be undoubtedly a British man-of-war.
"No mistake as to that point," observed Captain Tracy, who joined him on
deck; "I thought so from the first."
What was their astonishment, therefore, when the corvette fired a gun
towards them. The _Ouzel Galley_ still stood on, when the sound of
another gun came booming over the calm sea.
"It is the signal to us to heave to. We must obey," said Owen; "though
they perhaps think that we are too strong-handed, and wish to press some
of our men."
"There's no help for it," observed the old captain; "better at the end
of a voyage than the beginning of one, as far as the owners are
concerned; but it is a cruel thing for the poor men to be carried away
from their families just as they are expecting to get home."
The yards were braced up, and the ship hove to. In a short time the
corvette, getting abreast of her, lowered a boat and quickly pulled
alongside, with a lieutenant and midshipman in her. As they sprang on
deck, the latter came running aft.
"Don't you know me, father?" he exclaimed, as he got up to Captain
Tracy.
"What, Gerald, my boy! You've grown so tall and brown that, thinking
you away in the West Indies, I didn't till this moment," answered
Captain Tracy.
"But I thought it was he," cried Norah, as Gerald bestowed on her a
brotherly embrace. He then shook hands with Owen, to whom Lieutenant
Foley, who was the other officer, had at first addressed himself; but,
seeing Norah, he advanced and paid his respects, inquiring for her
friend Miss Ferris.
"She is well, and about to sail for Jamaica on board this vessel,"
answered Norah. "You will, if you land at Dublin, have an opportunity
of seeing her."
"I hope, then, that the _Ouzel Galley_ will form one of the next fleet
which we have received orders to convoy to the West Indies," said
Lieutenant Foley. "Having been sent home with despatches, we landed at
Plymouth, and were on our way round here when we ran out of our course
in chase of a strange sail. She, however, escaped us, and we are now
bound into Dublin Bay. Are you going to remain on board?" he asked.
"I am afraid not," said Norah; "but I am sure that it will be
satisfactory to Mr Ferris to learn that your ship will convoy them.
Should I see them before you do, I will tell them so."
Thereon the lieutenant sent several messages to Ellen, which Norah
promised to deliver, as duty might possibly delay him from going on
shore. He then turned to Owen.
"I was sent to press some of the hands out of your ship," he said, "but
if you are about again to sail, I feel authorised to take only those who
have not agreed to return with you; and I must beg you to muster your
crew."
Whatever might have been the intentions of the men, they one and all
agreed to re-enter for the next voyage on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and
Owen thus secured an experienced crew instead of the untried hands he
might afterwards have picked up.
"It is fortunate that you fell in with us instead of any other
man-of-war, or you would have lost your best hands," said Gerald; "and
we, I suspect, shall have to send pressgangs on shore to pick up all the
fellows we can find. You had better give a hint to your men not to
trust themselves out of the ship, for all would be fish who come to our
net, they may depend on that."
Gerald had to return with Lieutenant Foley to the _Champion_, while the
_Ouzel Galley_, having taken a pilot on board, at once ran up the
harbour, when Norah and her father proceeded to Mr Ferris's. The
arrival of the _Ouzel Galley_ was hailed with great satisfaction by Mr
Ferris; still more so was the news Norah gave Ellen, that the _Champion_
was one of the ships of war appointed to convoy the _Ouzel Galley_ and
the other merchant vessels to the West Indies. All diligence was used
in discharging her cargo and taking a fresh one on board; and in shorter
time than usual, thanks to the assistance rendered by her old captain,
she was ready for sea. Owen had the happiness of spending the evenings
with Norah, and Ellen was the better able to dispense with her society
as Lieutenant Foley managed frequently to get on shore, bringing Gerald
with him. Their time, however, was not always passed so agreeably, as
they had on several occasions to take charge of the pressgangs sent on
shore to pick up men, and more than once they were engaged in pretty
severe encounters with the unwilling seamen whom it was their duty to
capture.
Mr Foley and the young midshipman were spending the evening at Mr
Ferris's, when they were summoned out.
"We must wish you good night," said the lieutenant to Ellen, returning;
"we have some duty to attend to, and shall afterwards have to go on
board our ship."
The ladies came into the hall, and were somewhat astonished at the garb
which the two officers quickly assumed. Over their neat uniforms they
put on large Flushing trousers, thick coats of the same material
buttoned up to their throats, round which they tied large comforters,
while on their heads they wore weather-beaten sou'-westers. A cutlass,
buckled on by a leathern belt in which a brace of pistols were stuck,
showed that they were about to proceed on an expedition in which rough
play might be expected.
"Where are you going?" asked Ellen, in some trepidation.
"Only to obtain a few loyal seamen to serve his Majesty," answered the
lieutenant. "The fellows don't know their true interests, and may
perhaps offer some opposition; but don't be alarmed--we hope to be on
shore to-morrow to give a good account of ourselves."
The lieutenant and midshipman set off under the guidance of the
captain's coxswain, a Dublin man, who had come for them. Proceeding to
a public-house on one of the lower quays, they found a dozen seamen
dressed and armed as they were. The lieutenant having given them
directions, they followed him and his guide to that part of Dublin known
as the "Liberties," inhabited by the dregs of the population. The night
was dark; no lamps illumined that part of the town. The lantern carried
by Larry Flynn, the coxswain, enabled the party to thread their way
through several narrow streets till they reached a house, at the door of
which he stopped.
"This is it, yer honour," said Larry; "but we must be mighty quick, or
they'll be after escaping along the tiles."
On this he gave a gentle knock at the door. "Hist! Mother O'Flanigan,
open the door, or I'll be taken hold of by the watchmen," he whispered
through the keyhole, as he heard a step within.
"Who is it?" asked the voice.
"Shure, it's Dennis Donovan, whom ye'll be after knowing, I'm thinking;
but quick, quick, mother dear, or it'll be too late and I'll be caught."
As he spoke the bars were withdrawn, and the lock turned, and the old
woman, forgetting her usual caution, slowly opened the door. On this
Larry sprang in, and before she had time to shriek out thrust a woollen
comforter into her mouth.
"Hold her fast, Bill!" he exclaimed to one of the men who had been
directed to guard the door, while the lieutenant and Gerald, with the
rest, rushed along a narrow passage, at the end of which another female,
a stout, sturdy-looking Amazon, appeared with a light in one hand and a
poker in the other.
"Who are ye, ye brutes?" she exclaimed, "coming to disturb a dacent
household at this time of night? Shure, the childher are in bed, and
ye'll be waking them up and sending them into fits, the darlints."
"It's joking ye are, Misthress Milligan, for divil a child have ye got
in the house, barring a score of bhoys with big whiskers on their
faces," answered Larry; "so just keep a dacent tongue in your mouth, and
be quiet with that poker."
Mrs Milligan, finding that she was known, and as it would be useless to
deny that she had guests in the house, shrieked out at the top of her
voice, "Run, bhoys, run--the pressgang are on ye!" at the same time
attempting, with her formidable weapon, to prevent the seamen from
opening the door before which she stood. Larry, however, dashing
forward, wrenched it from her hand, and giving her a shove which sent
her reeling into the arms of those behind him, burst open the door with
his cudgel; and, the harridan having been handed along to those in the
rear, the rest of the men followed him into the room. It was an
apartment of some size. At one end was a table covered with mugs, a jug
or two, and several bottles of large proportions, and surrounded by
benches; while at the other end were four beds, each with a couple of
occupants, who had endeavoured to conceal their features by the
coverlets. Larry pointed to them, and he and his companions springing
forward and drawing off the coverlets, brought to view eight fully clad
seamen, who, offering no resistance, quietly submitted to their fate;
though sundry oaths and throats of vengeance showed that they believed
themselves to be the victims of treachery.
"There are more of them stowed away above," exclaimed Larry; and,
leaving the room, he sprang up a rickety stair.
"Who comes there?" cried a gruff voice from the top. The speaker had
probably been aroused by the noises below. "You'll pay dear for it,
whoever you are who attempt to interfere with me."
"Shure, Dick Rowan, your time has come at last to serve his Majesty,
threaten and bluster as you like," cried Larry, as he and the rest
continued their ascent.
"Take that!" cried the previous speaker, firing a pistol, the bullet
whistling near Larry's ear, but striking in the wall behind him. Before
he could draw another, Larry and the lieutenant threw themselves upon
him, and in spite of his struggles dragged him downstairs. His shouts
aroused several other men, who rushed out armed with bludgeons and
pistols.
"Come up here at your peril," cried one of them, who appeared at the
head of the stair, flourishing his bludgeon and holding a pistol in his
left hand.
"It's not such orders from the like of you we've a mind to obey," said
Larry, who having handed over the men just taken prisoners, was, with
the lieutenant and Gerald, about to ascend the steps. Gerald was struck
by the voice, and as Larry threw the light of his lantern before him, he
recognised, as he believed, the features of Carnegan, the second mate of
the _Ouzel Galley_--or rather O'Harrall, as he has been better known to
the reader.
"Seize the ruffian," cried Gerald; "he is an escaped prisoner. I know
him!" He sprang up the steps as he spoke, Mr Foley, Larry, and several
of the men following.
"Take that for your knowledge, youngster," cried the man, firing his
pistol; and finding that it had missed Gerald's head, though by a hair's
breadth alone, he lifted his cudgel and would have effectually put an
end to his young assailant, had not Larry interposed his cutlass, and,
before the man could again raise his weapon, inflicted so severe a wound
that he was compelled to drop it. The lieutenant and more seamen coming
up threw themselves on him, and in spite of several other people who had
come out, he also was secured. The rest retreated into the room, but
were pursued before they could make their escape from the windows, which
they were attempting to do. One fellow was hauled back just as he had
got outside, and in a short time every male inmate of the house was
captured.
Rapid as the pressgang had been in their movements, the alarm had been
given outside, and a mob was already collecting in the street, evidently
with the intention of rescuing the prisoners. There was no time,
therefore, to be lost. Mr Foley ordered his men to drag them out and
hurry them along, each of the pressgang holding a pistol to the head of
his prisoner. Larry had taken charge of the man whom Gerald supposed to
be O'Harrall. The ruffian at first waited along quietly enough, but by
the way he turned his head he was evidently on the watch for an
opportunity of escaping.
"If ye attempt to do it, a bullet will go through yer head, as shure as
ye're a living man," cried Larry, in a tone of voice which made the
prisoner feel certain that he would be as good as his word. His escape
would have been the signal for the rest to attempt breaking loose. Mr
Foley and Gerald, with two of the men who had no prisoners to guard,
brought up the rear, and had enough to do to keep the rapidly increasing
mob at bay. It was mostly composed, however, of women and boys, who
shrieked and shouted, and hurled abuse on the heads of the pressgang.
By degrees, however, they were joined by several men carrying
shillelaghs, but the strict enforcement of the law against the
possession of firearms prevented the lower orders in the city from
having them. Growing bolder as their numbers increased, and seeing that
the pressgang was about to escape from their own especial domain, they
made a furious attack on the rearguard, who could only keep them at bay
by a free use of their cutlasses, with which several of the assailants
were wounded. At length the lesson the mob received made them hold
back, though they vented their rage in still louder execrations, howling
as an Irish mob alone can howl.
"Not very pleasant work this, Tracy," observed Mr Foley to the
midshipman. "However, as we've got thus far, I hope that we may succeed
in conveying our prisoners to the boats."
"One of them, at all events, is likely to make further efforts to
escape," said Gerald. "He is the very man, if I mistake not, who got
out of the King Tower at Waterford, and even if we carry him on board,
he is likely to prove a troublesome customer."
"We'll soon bring the most troublesome down to their proper bearings,"
answered the lieutenant. "If he is a good seaman, he'll answer our
purpose."
"We haven't got him safe on board yet, sir, and if these fellows
gathering round us show any pluck, we shall have a hard matter to keep
him and the rest of the captured men," said Gerald, looking down the
street, the few lights in which dimly showed a mass of people rushing
forward, the shillelaghs of the men waving wildly above their heads.
"Go on ahead, Tracy, and urge Larry to move faster," said Mr Foley.
"Do you keep your eye on his prisoner and see that he doesn't escape."
Gerald obeyed the order, and the seamen did their best to drag forward
their captives by threats of blowing out their brains if they did not
keep their feet stirring. Gerald was not mistaken as to the object of
the crowd, though they had apparently intended to attack the head of his
party; seeing them passing, they now came rushing on at greater speed
than before.
"Stand back," cried the lieutenant, "or we'll fire; it will be your own
fault if any of you are killed."
No regard, however, was paid to his threats. Some of the more daring of
the crowd leaped forward, springing now on one side, now on the other,
under the idea of escaping the bullets which might be fired at them.
The lieutenant and his two men on this had begun to flourish their
cutlasses, which in such an affray would be of far more use than
pistols, and serve, as before, to keep their assailants from coming to
close quarters; still, as they retreated the mob advanced, and every
moment threatened to make a rush, when by their superior numbers they
must have succeeded in overwhelming the lieutenant and his men and
rescuing their prisoners. At this juncture a loud hurrah was heard, and
a fresh body of seamen came hurrying along the street. The mob no
sooner saw them than the greater number scampered off to a safe
distance, where they gave vent to their feelings by uttering the most
fearful howls and hurling maledictions on the heads of the pressgang;
but the prisoners must have seen that all hope of escape was gone, for
they now quietly submitted to their fate, and when they reached the quay
stepped, as ordered, into the boats.
The man whom Gerald supposed to be O'Harrall was put into his boat. "We
have met before," said Gerald, after they had pulled some little way
down the river; "I wonder you don't know me."
"It must have been a long time ago, then, sir, for I haven't the
slightest recollection of ever having set eyes on you," answered the
man.
"What, were you never on board the _Ouzel Galley_?" asked Gerald.
"Never heard of her till a couple of days ago, when I saw her alongside
the quay," was the reply.
"What, don't you know the name of Carnegan?" said Gerald.
"I may know it--but it isn't my name," answered the man.
"Then perhaps it is O'Harrall," said Gerald.
The man started. "How did you come to know that name?" he asked; adding
quickly, "But that isn't my name either. If you want to know it,
Michael Dillon is my name; and since I am to have the ill luck to be
compelled to serve his Majesty afloat, I intend to show that it's one no
man need be ashamed of."
"It is very extraordinary," thought Gerald. "This man's answers are so
straightforward that I suppose I must have been mistaken." He did not
further question the prisoner. The boats at length reached the ship,
and the captives were sent below under a guard. Mr Foley, at Gerald's
suggestion, gave orders that Dillon especially should be strictly
watched, as should any of them leap overboard, they were sure to have
friends waiting in readiness to pick them up.
This was only one of several expeditions made by the pressgang on shore,
though none were so successful. On each occasion they were hooted by
the mob; and not without reason, when husbands were torn from their
wives, fathers from their children--several of those taken being either
'long-shore men or not even sailors--but men were wanted, and Captain
Olding had been directed to get as many as he could pick up, to supply
the other ships expected shortly to form the convoy of the fleet of
merchantmen. Two frigates arrived a few days after this, and orders
were issued to the merchant vessels to rendezvous in the bay. Every
effort was made to get them ready, as those not prepared would probably
have to wait for many months before another convoy would sail.
Ellen, as might have been expected, had gained her object, and her
father had consented to her accompanying him on board the _Ouzel
Galley_. It is as difficult to describe as to analyse the feelings with
which poor Norah parted with her. She was sorry to lose her friend; she
felt a very natural jealousy of her--or, if it was not jealousy, she
would thankfully have changed places. Still more gladly would she have
gone with her--though not for a moment did an unworthy doubt of her
friend, still less of Owen, enter into her mind. But notwithstanding
this, even had the offer been made to her to go out with Ellen, she
would not have deserted her father. When she and Captain Tracy stood on
the deck of the _Ouzel Galley_, as the stout ship sailed out of harbour,
she succeeded in maintaining her composure. Not, indeed, till the
signal gun was fired for the fleet to get under way, and she and the
captain had taken their seats in the boat to return to the shore, did
she show any signs of the feelings which were agitating her.
"Cheer up, Norah," said the old captain; "we'll pray that they may have
a prosperous voyage and speedy return, and it won't be many months
before we see the _Ouzel Galley_ coming back trim as ever into Waterford
Harbour. Owen will soon make his fortune with the favour of Mr Ferris;
he is a favourite captain, that is evident, and the house can put many a
chance in his way of turning an honest penny. Perhaps after next voyage
the ship will be requiring another repair, and as Owen will then have to
remain for some time on shore, he may think fit to make you his wife,
and I'll not object if he has your consent. I only wish Gerald were
with him; the lad's thrown a good chance away, but he was so bent on
joining the Royal Navy that I hadn't the heart to hinder him, though I
might have been wiser to do so."
Thus the old captain ran on, his remarks contributing not a little to
calm his daughter's feelings and to induce her to look forward hopefully
to the future.
After spending a few days more in Dublin, the captain being employed in
transacting some shipping business for the firm, he and Norah set off
for Waterford, where, in spite of his apprehensions of being attacked by
Rapparees, highwaymen, or abductors, they arrived in safety.
Meantime the _Ouzel Galley_, with about sixty other merchantmen
collected from Liverpool, Glasgow, and various Irish ports, set sail
down Channel, convoyed by the 32-gun frigates, _Thisbe_ and _Druid_, and
the _Champion_ corvette; "Old Blowhard," as he was called, captain of
the _Thisbe_, acting as commodore. The _Champion_ had a busy time of it
whipping up the laggards and calling in the stragglers, who would, in
spite of orders to the contrary, steer their own course. The _Ouzel
Galley_ was among the well-behaved of the fleet, always keeping her
proper position; and though she could have run well ahead of most of
them, Owen never failed to shorten sail when necessary, for which he was
complimented by Mr Ferris. Perhaps Ellen might have preferred more
frequently seeing the _Champion_, which she soon learned to distinguish
from the rest of the fleet. The _Druid_ was employed much as the
_Champion_; but Old Blowhard kept his proper position in the van, making
signals with his bunting or guns as occasion required.
The greater portion of the passage was accomplished without an enemy's
cruiser having been sighted; indeed, no small French squadron would have
ventured to approach the formidable-looking fleet, as many of the
merchantmen carried guns, and three or four of them would have been a
match for any frigate, or, at all events, would not have yielded without
a hard struggle.
Meantime Gerald, who was disposed under all circumstances to make
himself happy, thought the _Champion's_ employment very good fun,
notwithstanding the grumblings of old Beater and Crowhurst, who were
from morning till night abusing the slow-sailing "sugar-hogsheads," as
they designated the merchant craft. He was only a little disappointed
at having no opportunity of paying his friend a visit on board the
_Ouzel Galley_--a feeling probably shared with him by the second
lieutenant. The _Champion_ had been compelled to dispose of most of the
pressed men between the two frigates, retaining only a few to make up
her own complement. Among them was the man captured in the Dublin
lodging-house, who had entered under the name of Michael Dillon. When
Gerald came to see him oftener, the supposed likeness to Carnegan wore
off, though still there was a wonderful similarity in the voice and
manner. Dillon soon showed himself to be a bold and active seaman, and
thereby gained the good opinion of the officers, though his behaviour
was generally surly, especially towards the English portion of the crew.
He took pains however, to ingratiate himself with the Irishmen, by
being always ready to do a good turn to any of them, very frequently
even sharing his grog with them--the highest mark of regard one seaman
can show to another. Gerald, who naturally observed the man, fancied
that he looked at him with a suspicious eye, and was inclined to keep
out of his way; but at the same time he treated him, as he did the other
midshipmen, with the required amount of respect, though certainly not
with a particle more.
"You see, Tracy, I told you that Dillon and the rest of the pressed men
would soon be brought into order by the discipline of a man-of-war,"
observed Mr Foley one day to Gerald, who was in his watch. "Blustering
fellows, such as he appeared, become in a few weeks perfectly
lamb-like."
"I wouldn't trust him overmuch, sir, nevertheless," answered Gerald.
"From a remark the carpenter made to me the other day, he has formed no
favourable opinion of him. He has several times found him talking in a
low voice to the men, as if he had some especial object in view, and Mr
O'Rourke thinks that, if he had an opportunity of doing mischief, he
would do it."
"I am not fond of hearing unfavourable reports of the men, and I
recommend you not to indulge in the habit of making them, unless
officially required so to do," said the lieutenant, rather annoyed at
Gerald's remarks.
"I had no intention of bringing them to you, sir," answered Gerald; "but
when you spoke of Dillon, I felt myself called on to say what I had
heard, especially as I have had suspicions of the man from the first. I
indeed believed him to be a person we had on board the _Ouzel Galley_,
and who, it was afterwards discovered, had been guilty of an act of
piracy and murder."
"But if he is not the man you took him for, you should overcome your
prejudice," remarked the lieutenant.
"I try to do so, sir," said Gerald, "and I should have thought no more
about him if I hadn't heard remarks which aroused my former suspicions."
"I believe you are right, after all, Tracy," said Mr Foley; "we'll keep
an eye on the man, and not place him in a position where he can do any
harm."
This conversation took place when the convoy was about four or five
days' sail from the West Indies.
"The commodore is signalling, sir," cried young Lord Mountstephen, who
was acting as signal midshipman, "`A sail to the southward!--the
_Champion_ to chase and ascertain her character.'"
"Make the answering signal," said Mr Foley. "Tracy, go and report to
the captain."
The wind was at this time about south-east. The _Thisbe_ was in her
usual station to windward of the fleet and abeam of the leading vessel,
and the fleet with flowing sheets was steering to the westward. The
_Champion_, hauling her wind, stood out from among them.
"The commodore suspects the stranger to be an enemy," observed the
commander to Mr Foley. A look-out with sharp eyes was sent aloft, to
report as soon as the sail indicated by the frigate should appear in
sight. She was before long seen, and was evidently a large ship
standing to the north-west, a course which would bring her up to the
convoy.
"We must have a nearer look at her," said the commander; "she is more
probably a friend than an enemy."
"Two other sail," cried the look-out from aloft, "following in the wake
of the first."
Still the corvette, according to orders, stood on. As she approached
the stranger, the commander changed his opinion.
"They are Frenchmen," he observed to his first lieutenant; "we'll keep
away and run back to the commodore. If, as I suspect, all three are
frigates, or perhaps larger craft, we shall have to bring them to action
and allow the convoy to escape."
The announcement caused considerable excitement on board. "We shall
probably be in action before the day is out," cried Gerald, as he went
into the midshipmen's berth, "and have pretty hot work, too, if the
Frenchmen show any pluck."
"The best news I've heard for many a day," said old Crowhurst.
"Notwithstanding all I've done for my country, it's the only chance I
have of getting promoted."
"I don't see how that's to be," said Gerald; "mates are not often
mentioned in despatches."
"But if a happy shot were to knock either of our superiors on the head,
I should obtain the rank I merit," replied the mate. "For that matter,
I've seen service enough and done deeds sufficient to deserve being made
a commander or post-captain."
"Long life to you, Captain Crowhurst!" exclaimed Gerald. "If I was a
Lord of the Admiralty I'd promote you to-day and superannuate you
to-morrow. I don't suppose the service would be greatly the loser."
"That youngster requires a cobbing," said Beater, who perceived what the
other did not, that Gerald was laughing at him; and he pulled out his
cob, prepared to inflict condign punishment.
"Now don't, till the action's over," said Gerald, getting ready to make
his exit from the berth; "then, if the enemy's shot hasn't taken either
of our heads off, you'll be welcome to do what you like--if you can
catch me--and I don't intend that you should do that same just now;" and
Gerald sprang through the doorway out of reach of the irate old mate.
The other members of the berth talked over the probabilities of the
expected fight. One and all were ready enough for it, especially two or
three who had never yet seen a shot fired in anger; they having but
little conception of what the result of a hard-fought action would be,
even should they prove victorious.
As soon as the _Champion_ got within signalling distance of the
commodore, Captain Olding reported three sail of the enemy in sight.
On this the _Thisbe_ hoisted a signal to the _Druid_ to join her, while
the merchant vessels were directed to keep together and to stand on as
they were steering. The three men-of-war now hauled up a little, the
sooner to meet the enemy, the _Champion_ being to windward of the
frigates.
"Old Blowhard expects that the enemy will take us for the advanced
frigates of a large fleet, and will probably think it wiser to keep out
of our way than to come nearer," observed Captain Olding to his first
lieutenant, "Though we should beat them, we should gain but little by an
action."
"I agree with you, sir. I never fancied fighting for barren glory, I
confess," said Mr Tarwig; "and as our first duty is to defend our
convoy, I conclude that the commodore will be satisfied if we can beat
off the enemy."
"We may hope to do that, even though the _Champion_ will be somewhat
overmatched; but I can trust to the ship's company to do their duty,"
said the captain, in a firm tone. "Clear the ship for action, Mr
Tarwig."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the first lieutenant, giving the necessary
orders. Lieutenant Foley and the other officers set about carrying them
out with alacrity. He was glad to be actively employed, for many
anxious thoughts oppressed his mind. He could not conceal from himself
the fearful odds to which they were exposed, and what might possibly be
the issue of the approaching conflict. One of the enemy was certainly
greatly superior in force to the _Champion_, and the other two French
ships might be much larger than the _Thisbe_ and _Druid_. Even should
their own ships be disabled, though not captured, many of the merchant
fleet might fall a prey to the Frenchmen, and the _Ouzel Galley_ might
possibly be among the number. What then would be the fate of Ellen and
her father? It was of the greatest importance to Mr Ferris to reach
Jamaica without delay, and instead of that he might very likely be
carried to France, or detained as a prisoner in one of the French West
India islands; while Ellen must be exposed to much annoyance and
suffering. He himself had no coward fears for his own life; but he knew
full well, should he fall, the grief and anguish it would cause her.
All such thoughts were, however, put to flight as the two squadrons
approached each other, the _Thisbe_ leading and the _Champion_,
according to orders received from the commodore, bringing up the rear.
Old Blowhard's object was to disable one of the French frigates before
he attacked the other two, so that she might become a more equal
antagonist for the _Champion_. As the squadrons approached, it was seen
that each of the French frigates carried more guns than the _Thisbe_ and
_Druid_, and nearly twice as many as the _Champion_. Old Blowhard,
however, nothing daunted, stood on, firm to his purpose of attacking the
enemy and leaving the convoy time to escape. The leading French frigate
was a considerable way ahead of her consorts; on seeing the determined
bearing of the English, she shortened sail, while they spread all the
canvas they could to come up with her--the _Thisbe_ carrying all she
could set, in order to attack her before they could accomplish their
object. Just as the _Thisbe_ brought the enemy on her lee bow, the
commodore threw out a signal to the _Druid_ to keep away and to rake the
French frigate, while he poured his whole broadside into her. He also
ordered the _Champion_ to imitate his example, and then to come about
and fire her larboard broadside. The French captain might, of course,
defeat these various manoeuvres by either keeping away or hauling his
wind.
Every person on board was watching anxiously to see what he would do.
No moments in a seaman's life are so intensely exciting as those when,
before a shot is fired, his ship is standing into action. The wind was
moderate, the sky of a cerulean hue, and the sea tolerably calm, the
rays of the sun glittering on the snowy crests of the waves. The
looked-for moment at length arrived. The _Thisbe's_ foremost gun broke
the deep silence which had hitherto reigned over the ocean. It was
rapidly followed by her broadside guns, to which the Frenchman replied
with spirit. The _Druid_, suddenly putting up her helm, fired the whole
of her larboard broadside into the Frenchman's bows, then again luffing
up in time to fire her starboard guns, trained well aft, before the
_Champion_ got into a position by which she might suffer from their
shot. The corvette now stood in to action, running so close to her
large antagonist that their respective yardarms almost touched, most of
the shot from the French frigate's upper deck going harmlessly over her,
though she suffered considerably from those of the main-deck. Her
rigging, however, escaping much damage, she was able to haul her wind
and come about. Notwithstanding the severe punishment she was
receiving, the French frigate gave no signs of surrendering.
"We can tackle her now, I think, by ourselves," observed Captain Olding
to his first lieutenant. The commodore, however, had no intention of
allowing his small consort to do that. His first broadside had cut away
many of the braces of the French ship, and severely wounded her
mainyard. He now, consequently, having come about, was able to range up
on her starboard quarter directly after the _Champion_ had passed on.
Again pouring in his broadside, he shot away the French frigate's
mizen-mast, which came crashing down on deck. Shouts rose from the
decks of the English ships as what had occurred was seen. Both the
English frigates had now to engage the two Frenchmen--one following the
other, they were quickly exchanging broadsides. The _Thisbe_ then
addressed herself especially to the second French frigate, while the
_Druid_ took the third in hand, the commodore ordering the _Champion_ to
continue her attack on the first till he could come to her assistance.
All three of the English ships had by this time lost a number of men,
though they had inflicted still greater damage on the French frigates.
Captain Olding fought the corvette bravely, manoeuvring to keep ahead of
his antagonist. The great object had already been gained, the escape of
the merchant fleet, the topgallantsails of the rearmost vessels of which
had long since disappeared beneath the horizon. Though the _Champion's_
rigging remained uninjured, with the exception of a brace or two cut
through, she had received some severe damages in her hull. Three men
had been killed, and six, including her gunner, wounded.
"We are succeeding better than might have been expected, Tarwig,"
observed Captain Olding. "If we can't make this fellow strike, we can
keep him from running away or joining his consorts. See, there goes the
_Druid's_ mainmast, and there comes her foremast. Blowhard must take
care not to have both the enemy on him at once, or he may fare no
better."
For a few minutes it was difficult to see what the four ships were
about, so close were they together, and enveloped in smoke; for the fall
of the English frigate's masts had encouraged the Frenchmen (whose fire
had somewhat slackened) to fresh exertions, and their fire was renewed
with greater vigour than before. Lieutenant Foley turned his eye
towards them, for it was very evident that the corvette, unless she
could knock away another of her antagonist's masts, was not likely to
gain the victory. He anxiously looked for the commodore's promised
assistance. Presently, one of the combatants was seen issuing from the
smoke, followed closely by the other, and standing towards the corvette.
Unless she could make good her escape, her capture or destruction was
scarcely problematical. The _Thisbe_ was following, firing her guns as
they could be brought to bear; but she could not arrive in time to save
the corvette. Captain Olding had no intention of deserting his
consorts; he hauled up, therefore, to the southward in order to tack and
stand down towards the _Druid_. He now saw that the hulls of the French
frigates were sorely battered. One of them threw out signals, when
their leading frigate, coming round on the starboard tack, made all sail
to the northward, as did both the others, apparently having had enough
of fighting. The commodore now signalled to the _Champion_ to stand
after the convoy, and he himself was soon afterwards seen following,
having sent a party of his hand on board the _Druid_ to assist her in
repairing damages.