"Shall we be seen, Jim, think you?" I asked, after we had gazed at the
ship some minutes without speaking.
"Ain't quite certain," answered Jim, in a sad voice; "if I thought so, I
could sing for joy, that I could, but the ship's a long way off, and
maybe she'll haul closer to the wind and pass us by."
"Oh, Jim! Let us pray that she'll not do that," I exclaimed. "She's
standing, as far as I can make out, directly towards us, and why should
we fancy that we are to be deserted? Cheer up, Jim! Cheer up!"
"That's what I'm trying to do," said Jim. "Still we must not make too
certain. If she doesn't pick us up another vessel may. We are in the
track of ships going up and down Channel, and that's one comfort."
Jim did not say this all at once, for he stopped sometimes to take a
look at the stranger, and every now and then a sea washed up and made us
close our mouths. Still the seas were every instant growing less and
less, and we at last unlashed ourselves that we might move about a
little and stretch our limbs.
We were on the top, it must be remembered, so that we did not run the
same risk of falling off as we should have done if we had had only the
mast to support us.
With straining eyes we watched the ship. Still she held the same course
on which she had been steering when we first saw her, and which was
bringing her nearer and nearer to us.
"Hurrah, Jim! We shall soon be seen, depend on that," I exclaimed, at
last, "and perhaps before to-night we shall be safe on shore. Who can
say that we shan't be landed at Portsmouth itself?"
"I wish I could say I was as sure as you are, Peter," observed Jim, in a
doleful voice. "If she had seen us it would have been all right; she
would pick us up, but she may alter her course. Even now the wind is
shifting, and she may have to keep away."
I could not contradict this; still I kept on hoping that we should ere
long be seen. I had a white handkerchief in my pocket, although it was
rolled into a ball by the wet. I pulled it out, and waved it above my
head as high as I could reach. Even now we might have attracted the
attention of those on board the stranger, although we could distinguish
no signal made to us in return.
"She's a thumping big ship, whatever she is," I remarked.
"She's high out of the water, and that makes her look bigger," observed
Jim. "I have seen some like her brought up at Spithead, and to my mind
she's a South Sea whaler, outward bound. That's the reason she looks so
high. Yes, I am right, for I can make out her boats hoisted up at the
davits."
"I think you are right," I said; "but even if she is an outward bound
ship, she'll put us on board another vessel homeward-bound, or land us
on some part of the coast, the back of the Isle of Wight, or Portland."
"First let us get on board her before we talk of where we shall be
landed," said Jim. "It seems to me as if she was going about. The head
sails are shaking."
"No, no! the man at the wheel was not minding his helm," I answered.
"I'll wave again."
"They won't see that little bit of a rag," cried Jim, "I'll try what I
can do. Here, Peter, just take hold of my jacket," he continued, as he
stripped it off, and then loosening his waistband he pulled his shirt
over his head, and began to wave it frantically. I waved my
handkerchief, and then in our eagerness we shouted out at the top of our
voices, as if the faint sounds could be carried as far as the ship.
Presently our hearts sank, for there was no doubt that the ship was
keeping away. Still, should anyone on board be using a spy-glass, and
turn it towards us, we should, we hoped, be observed. We waved and
shouted even more vehemently than before, but even I was almost in
despair.
"She's going to pass us after all," cried Jim, "and there's not another
sail in sight."
Just as he spoke there came a puff of smoke with a bright flash, from
the ship's bows, followed by a sharp report.
"We are seen! We are seen!" shouted Jim. "That's a signal to us.
Hurrah! Hurrah!"
The ship now came rapidly on, and we had no longer any doubt about being
rescued. This very circumstance caused a reaction in our feelings, and,
strange as it may seem, we both burst into tears. We recovered
ourselves, however, very soon, and continued waving, still having an
idea that the ship might sail away from us, but on and on she came.
Presently her courses were brailed up, and she hove-to about three
cables' lengths from our mast. Almost at the same instant one of her
boats was lowered, and came pulling towards us as fast as the men could
bend their backs to the oars. In a few minutes kindly hands were
stretched out to help us into the boat.
"Are you the only two?" asked the mate, who was steering.
"Yes, sir; all the rest are gone," I answered.
"Well, we'll hear all about it when we get you on board, lads, for you
both seem as if you wanted looking after," he said.
The boat leaving the mast, returned rapidly towards the ship.
While most of the crew scrambled up the sides, the tackles were hooked
on, and we were hoisted up in the boat, from whence we were speedily
handed down on deck. I could not have stood if I had not been
supported, and Jim was much in the same condition.
We were soon surrounded by strange faces, some looking compassionately
upon us, others with indifference, as if it was a matter of very little
consequence that two boys should have been saved from perishing.
Meantime the yards were swung round and the ship stood on her course.
"We must have the lads below at once," said one of the persons standing
round. "They have been many hours wet through and exposed on the mast,
and even now, if we don't look out, they may slip through our fingers."
"Very true, Doctor Cockle," said another, who was, I saw by his dress,
an officer. "One of them may be put into my cabin, where you can look
after him better than for'ard."
"And the other can go into mine," said the doctor, the person who had
first spoken.
No one had asked us any questions; probably they saw by our condition
that we should have been unable to answer them, for both Jim and I were
fast verging towards unconsciousness.
We were at once carried below, when I was put into the mate's cabin,
where my clothes were stripped off by the doctor's orders, and, being
rubbed dry, I was placed between the blankets. The doctor, who had been
looking after Jim, soon came and gave me something out of a glass, which
seemed to warm me up wonderfully. But even then I could not have spoken
if my life had depended upon it.
"Get some warm broth as quickly as you can," I heard the doctor say to
someone, he in the meantime rubbing my feet and hands and chest. It
seemed as if scarcely more than two or three minutes had passed when a
basin of hot broth was brought me, which I drank without difficulty, and
it did me more good than the stuff in the glass.
"You may go to sleep now, my lad," said the doctor, in a kind tone;
"you'll do well. You shall tell us by-and-by how you and your companion
came to be on the mast."
I obeyed the doctor's orders, and scarcely had the door been closed than
I was fast asleep. I was awakened by the doctor coming in, accompanied
by a boy who brought some more soup and some bread, and which, being
very hungry, I thankfully swallowed.
"You can eat something more substantial now," said the doctor, and he
told the boy to bring in some fowl and more bread from the
breakfast-table.
By this I guessed that I must have had a long spell of sleep, and that a
whole day and a night had passed since we were taken on board. I
eagerly ate all that was given me.
"You may get up now, my boy, and dress, and we will find another berth
for you; we must not keep Mr Griffiths out of his bed," said the
doctor.
"I would not do that on any account, sir," I said; "I feel quite strong,
and am accustomed to live forward."
I soon dressed, and was glad to see that Jim also was up. There were
two apprentices on board, who lived on the half-deck, and the doctor
said that the first mate promised to have some berths knocked up for us
with them.
"How did you come to be on board the vessel which went down?" asked the
doctor, when I accompanied him on deck.
From the kind way he spoke I was encouraged to give him a full account
of myself and Jim, so I told him that he and I belonged to Portsmouth,
and had gone in the _Good Intent_ to Bergen; and how she had lost her
masts, and the crew had been washed overboard. How the captain had
died, and we had done our best to keep the brig afloat, and had been
driven in close to Shetland, and that I had found a relative there, and
was coming south in the _Nancy_ to fetch my sister. He then asked me
about my father, and I told him that he had been lost at Spithead, and
that mother had died, and old Tom had taken care of Mary and me, and
how, after he had been blown up in the ship at Spithead, Jim and I had
managed to gain our bread and support Mary and Nancy till a claimant
appeared for old Tom's property, and our boat had been taken from us,
and we had been turned out of the house, and should have been in a bad
way if the good Quaker, Mr Gray, had not come to our assistance.
The doctor listened attentively, and he then asked me what sort of man
my father was, and whether I had a brother in the navy.
I described my father, and then said that Jack had gone away on board
the _Lapwing_ brig of war, but that he was supposed to have been cut off
by savages in one of her boats when in the Indian seas. At all events,
that we had never since heard of him.
"That's very strange," he observed; "I think, Peter Trawl, that we have
met before, when you were a very little chap. Do you remember your
father taking off the doctor and the mate of a ship lying at Spithead,
when you and your brother Jack were in the boat, and he was to be put on
board the brig?"
"Yes, sir," I said, looking up at his face: "I recollect it perfectly,
as it was the last time I saw Jack, though I little thought then that I
should never see him again."
"I was the doctor, and the first mate of this ship was my companion.
When I first heard your name, as it is a peculiar one, I all of a sudden
recollected that it was that of the boatman who took Mr Griffiths and
me off on the occasion I speak of. We are now brothers-in-law, and have
ever since gone to sea together--that is to say, when we have gone to
sea, for both of us have taken long spells on shore. If it hadn't been
for that, Mr Griffiths would have been a captain years ago."
"I am very glad to meet you and him again, sir," I said; "and now I look
at you I fancy I recollect your countenance, as I did your voice. You
were not as well accustomed to the sea then as you are now."
"No," he answered, laughing. "That was my first voyage. I sometimes
wish that I had lived comfortably on shore, and made it my last, but I
got accustomed to a roving life, and having no regular business or tie,
when circumstances compelled Mr Griffiths--who married my sister--to
come to sea again, I agreed to accompany him."
I felt sure from the kind way in which Doctor Cockle spoke that he would
wish to serve me.
I asked him if the ship was going to put into Saint Helens, or if not,
would he get the captain to land Jim and me at Portland?
"We are some way to the westward of Portland, already," he answered.
"It is possible that he may land you at Plymouth or Falmouth, or if not
put you on board some pilot or fishing boat, or any vessel we may fall
in with coming up Channel."
"Surely, sir, he would not carry us away from home? I would give
anything to be on shore, where my young sister is expecting me, and it
would break her heart to fancy I was lost, which she would do if I did
not appear," I said.
"As Mr Griffiths and I only joined the ship at Hull, ten days ago, we
are not very intimate with the captain: but I hope he would not refuse
your request."
The doubtful way in which he spoke made me feel very unhappy. Still, I
hoped that when I told the captain the strong reasons I had for wishing
to be put on shore as soon as possible, he would not refuse.
The doctor left me to attend to one of the men who was sick forward, and
I joined Jim, who had also come on deck. I had a long talk with him
about the matter. He fancied we were only then just abreast of the
Downs, and that the captain would put in willingly enough for the sake
of getting rid of us. It was a great disappointment to find that we
were so far down Channel, and that we should thus, at all events, have a
long journey back to Portsmouth. Still we neither of us doubted for a
moment that we should be put on shore somewhere to the westward, as I
saw by a look I had at the compass that we were standing for the land.
While we were talking, the captain, whom we had not yet seen, came on
deck. He was a fine, tall, sailor-like looking man, with a handsome
countenance and large eyes, which seemed to take in everything at a
glance--a person of whom the roughest crew would stand in awe.
His bright eyes fell on Jim and me; he beckoned us to come up, and,
looking at me, bade me give him the particulars of the loss of the brig,
about which Mr Griffiths and the doctor had told him.
I gave him the account as he desired, and then thought that I might
venture to ask him to put Jim and me on shore, for that, as may be
supposed, was the thing uppermost in my mind.
"We will see about that, my lads," he answered. "If the wind holds as
it now does it won't cause us any delay, but I can make no promises.
Boys at your age ought to wish to see the world, and we can find
employment for you on board. You are sharp fellows, I can see, or you
would not have saved your lives. One of the apprentices isn't worth his
salt, and the other will slip his cable before long, I suspect. His
friends insisted on my taking him, fancying that the voyage would
restore him to health."
The captain spoke in so free-and-easy a way that the awe with which I
was at first inclined to regard him vanished.
The wind, I should have said, had shifted to the westward of south. We
were standing about north-west, a course which would carry us over to
the English coast before long. We were obliged to be content with the
sort of promise that the captain had made, and I hoped that when the
doctor and Mr Griffiths spoke to him, that he would not refuse to put
us on shore.
Though Jim and I were well enough to walk about the deck, we were too
weak to venture aloft, or we should have been at the masthead looking
out for land. We went forward, however, keeping our eyes over the
starboard bow, where we expected every instant to see it.
Several of the men spoke to us good-naturedly, and were as eager as the
officers had been to hear what had happened to us. While we were
standing there looking out, a lad came up and said, "So I hear you
fellows are to be our messmates. What are your names?"