The Americans had been joined by a number of the Frenchmen, and some few
of the worst characters of the English crew--the jail-birds chiefly, who
had been won over with the idea that they would sail away to some
beautiful island, of which they might take possession; and live in
independence, or else rove over the ocean with freedom from all
discipline.
They had armed themselves with billets of wood and handspikes; and some
had got hold of knives and axes, which they had secreted. They rushed
on deck expecting quickly to overpower the watch.
Great was their dismay to find themselves encountered by a strong body
of armed men, who seized them, or knocked them down directly they
appeared.
So quickly were the first overpowered that they had no time to give the
alarm to their confederates below, and thus, as fresh numbers came up,
they were treated like the first. In a couple of minutes the whole of
the mutineers were overpowered.
The Frenchmen who had not actually joined them cried out for mercy,
declaring that they had no intention of doing so.
What might have been the case had the Americans been successful was
another matter.
All those who had taken part in the outbreak having been secured,
Captain Waring sent a party of marines to search for the American
captain. He was quickly found, and brought on the quarter-deck.
"You have broken your word of honour; you have instigated the crew to
mutiny, and I should be justified were I to run you up to the yard-arm!"
said Captain Waring, sternly.
"You would have done the same," answered the American captain, boldly.
"Such acts when successful have always been applauded."
"Not, sir, if I had given my word of honour, as you did, not to
interfere with the discipline of the ship," said Captain Waring. "You
are now under arrest, and, with those who supported you, will remain in
irons till we reach England."
Captain Gregory had not a word to say for himself. The French captain,
far from pleading for him, expressed his satisfaction that he had been
so treated.
He and the officers who had joined him were marched off under a guard to
have their irons fixed on by the armourer.
After this it became necessary to keep a strict watch on all the
prisoners, and especially on the Americans, a large proportion of whom
were found to be English seamen, and some of the _Foxhound's_ crew
recognised old shipmates among them.
Captain Waring, believing that he could trust to the French captain and
his officers, allowed them to remain on their parole, a circumstance
which greatly aggravated the feelings of Captain Gregory.
The captain had not forgotten Bill, who, by the timely information he
had given, had materially contributed to preserve the ship from capture.
Bill himself did not think that he had done anything wonderful; his
chief anxiety was lest the fact of his having given the information
should become known. The sentinel might guess at it, but otherwise the
captain alone could know anything about it. Bill, as soon as he had
told his story to the captain, and found that it was credited, stole
away forward among the rest of the crew on deck, where he took very good
care not to say a word of what had happened; so that not till the
trustworthy men received orders to be prepared for an outbreak were they
aware of what was likely to occur.
He therefore fancied that his secret had been kept, and that it would
never be known; he was, consequently, surprised when the following
morning the ship's corporal, touching his shoulder, told him that the
captain wanted to speak to him.
Bill went aft, feeling somewhat alarmed at the thoughts of being spoken
to by the captain.
On the previous evening he had been excited by being impressed with the
importance of the matter he was about to communicate, but now he had
time to wonder what the captain would say to him.
He met Tom and Jack by the way.
"Where are you going?" asked Tom.
Bill told him.
"I shouldn't wish to be in your shoes," remarked Tom. "What have you
been about?"
Bill could not stop to answer, but followed his conductor to the cabin
door.
The sentry, without inquiry, admitted him.
The captain, who was seated at a table in the cabin, near which the
first lieutenant was standing, received him with a kind look.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked.
"William Rayner, sir," said Bill.
"Can you read and write pretty well?"
"No great hand at either, sir," answered Bill. "Mother taught me when I
was a little chap, but I have not had much chance of learning since
then."
"Should you like to improve yourself?" asked the captain.
"Yes, sir; but I have not books, or paper, or pens."
"We'll see about that," said the captain. "The information you gave me
last night was of the greatest importance, and I wish to find some means
of rewarding you. When we reach England, I will make known your conduct
to the proper authorities, and I should like to communicate with your
parents."
"Please, sir, I have no parents; they are both dead, and I have no
relations that I know of; but I am much obliged to you, sir," answered
Bill, who kept wondering what the captain was driving at.
"Well, my boy, I will keep an eye on you," said the captain. "Mr
Saltwell, you will see what is best to be done with William Rayner," he
added, turning to the first lieutenant. "If you wish to learn to read
and write, you can come and get instruction every day from my clerk, Mr
Finch. I will give him directions to teach you; but remember you are
not forced to do it."
"Thank you, sir," said Bill. "I should like to learn very much."
After a few more words, the captain dismissed Bill, who felt greatly
relieved when the formidable interview was over.
As he wisely kept secret the fact of his having given information of the
mutiny, his messmates wondered what could have induced the captain so
suddenly to take an interest in him.
Every day he went aft for his lesson, and Mr Finch, who was a
good-natured young man, was very kind. Bill, who was remarkably quick,
made great progress, and his instructor was much pleased with him.
He could soon read easily, and Mr Finch, by the captain's orders, lent
him several books.
The master's assistant, calling him one day, told him that he had
received orders from the captain to teach him navigation, and, greatly
to his surprise, put a quadrant into his hands, and showed him how to
use it.
Bill all this time had not an inkling of what the captain intended for
him. It never occurred to him that the captain could have perceived any
merits or qualifications sufficient to raise him out of his present
position, but he was content to do his duty where he was.
Tom felt somewhat jealous of the favour Bill was receiving, though he
pretended to pity him for having to go and learn lessons every day.
Tom, indeed, knew a good deal more than Bill, as he had been at school,
and could read very well, though he could not boast much of his writing.
Jack could neither read nor write, and had no great ambition to learn;
but he was glad, as Bill seemed to like it, that he had the chance of
picking up knowledge.
"Perhaps the captain intends to make you his clerk, or maybe some day
you will become his coxswain," observed Jack, whose ambition soared no
higher. "I should like to be that, but I suppose that it is not
necessary to be able to read, or write, or sum. I never could make any
hand at those things, but you seem up to them, and so it's all right
that you should learn."
Notwithstanding the mark of distinction Bill was receiving, the three
young messmates remained very good friends.
Bill, however, found himself much better off than he had before been.
That the captain patronised him was soon known to all, and few ventured
to lay a rope's-end on his back, as formerly, while he was well treated
in other respects.
Bill kept his eyes open and his wits awake on all occasions, and thus
rapidly picked up a good knowledge of seamanship, such as few boys of
his age who had been so short a time at sea possessed.
The _Foxhound_ and her prizes were slowly making their way to England.
No enemy appeared to rob her of them, though they were detained by
contrary winds for some time in the chops of the Channel.
At length the wind shifted a point or two, and they were able to get
some way up it. The weather, however, became cloudy and dark, and no
observation could be taken.
It was a trying time, for the provisions and water, in consequence of
the number of souls on board, had run short.
The captain was doubly anxious to get into port; still, do all he could,
but little progress was made, till one night the wind again shifted and
the sky cleared. The master was aware that the ship was farther over to
the French coast than was desirable, but her exact position it was
difficult to determine.
The first streaks of sunlight had appeared in the eastern sky, when the
look-out shouted--
"A ship to the southward, under all sail."
As the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the stranger,
which was now seen clearly, standing towards the _Foxhound_.
Captain Waring made a signal to the two prizes, which were somewhat to
the northward, to make all sail for Plymouth, while the _Foxhound_,
under more moderate canvas, stood off shore.
Should the stranger prove an enemy, of which there was little doubt,
Captain Waring determined to try and draw her away from the French
coast, which could be dimly seen in the distance. He, at the same time,
did not wish to make an enemy suppose that he was flying. Though ready
enough to fight, he would rather first have got rid of his prisoners,
but that could not now be done.
It was necessary, therefore, to double the sentries over them, and to
make them clearly understand that, should any of them attempt in any way
to interfere, they would immediately be shot.
Jack, Tom, and Bill had seen the stranger in the distance, and they
guessed that they should before long be engaged in a fierce fight with
her. There was no doubt that she was French. She was coming up
rapidly.
The captain now ordered the ship to be cleared for action. The men went
readily to their guns. They did not ask whether a big or small ship was
to be their opponent, but stood prepared to fight as long as the captain
and officers ordered them, hoping, at all events, to beat the enemy.
The powder-monkeys, as before, having been sent down to bring up the
ammunition, took their places on their tubs. Of course they could see
but little of what was going forward, but through one of the ports they
at last caught sight of the enemy, which appeared to be considerably
larger than the _Foxhound_.
"We have been and caught a Tartar," Bill heard one of the seamen
observe.
"Maybe. But whether Turk or Tartar, we'll beat him," answered another.
An order was passed along the decks that not a gun should be fired till
the captain gave the word. The boys had not forgotten their fight a few
weeks before, and had an idea that this was to turn out something like
that. Then the shot of the enemy had passed between the masts and the
rigging; but scarcely one had struck the hull, nor had a man been hurt,
so they had begun to fancy that fighting was a very bloodless affair.
"What shall we do with the prisoners, if we take her, I wonder?" asked
Tom. "We've got Monsieurs enough on board already."
"I daresay the captain will know what to do with them," responded Bill.
"We must not count our chickens before they're hatched," said Jack.
"Howsumdever, we'll do our best." Jack's remark, which was heard by
some of the crew of the gun near which he was seated, caused a laugh.
"What do you call your best, Jack?" asked Ned Green.
"Sitting on my tub, and handing out the powder as you want it," answered
Jack. "What more would you have me do, I should like to know?"
"Well said, Jack," observed Green. "We'll work our guns as fast as we
can, and you'll hand out the powder as we want it."
The talking was cut short by the voices of the officers ordering the men
to be ready for action.
The crews of the guns laid hold of the tackles, while the captains stood
with the lanyards in their hands, waiting for the word of command, and
ready at a moment's notice to fire.
The big ship got nearer and nearer. She could now be seen through the
ports on the starboard side.
"Well, but she's a whopper!" exclaimed Ned Green, "though I hope we'll
whop her, notwithstanding. Now, boys, we'll show the Monsieurs what we
can do."