Will at once got ready to attend the first lieutenant. The boat being
alongside, they were soon on shore. Their first visit was to the
hospital, which, being overcrowded, the authorities were glad to get rid
of one of their patients. Pierre was placed in a litter and conveyed,
accompanied by Mr Saltwell and Bill, to the residence of Mrs Crofton,
a neat cottage standing by itself in a small garden. A pretty little
girl about thirteen years of age opened the door, and on seeing the
strangers summoned her mother, who at once appeared, and led the way to
the room she had prepared for Pierre's reception. It was on the
ground-floor, and contained a dimity-covered bed, and a few other simple
articles of furniture, quite sufficient for all the young French
sailor's wants.
Pierre again and again thanked Bill for having brought him to so
delightful a place.
"Ah!" he said, "that lady," looking at Mrs Crofton, "reminds me of my
mother, and the little girl is just like Jeannette, when she was
younger. And they are so kind and gentle! I shall get well very soon,
though I think I should have died if I had remained at the hospital,
where I was nearly stifled, while day and night I heard the oaths and
groans of my wounded compatriots, who abuse the English as the cause of
their suffering, regardless of the care that is being taken of them."
"I was very sure you would recover sooner in a quiet house by yourself,
and therefore I begged my officer to have you removed," said Bill.
It was not for some time that Pierre remarked the new midshipman's
uniform.
"Why, you told me you were a ship's boy, now I see you dressed as an
officer!" he exclaimed, in a tone of astonishment. "The gendarmes were
right after all."
"No, they were wrong," answered Bill. "I was then what I told you, but
I am now a midshipman."
He then gave an account to Pierre of how he had been promoted. Their
conversation was interrupted by the return of Mrs Crofton and Mary with
some food for their patient, as the doctor had told Mr Saltwell that he
should be fed often, though with but little at a time. As Mrs Crofton
could speak French, she did not require Bill to interpret for her.
He was glad to find that Pierre would be able to converse with his kind
hostess Mr Saltwell, who had gone into the drawing-room, now told Bill
that he might stay with Pierre until the evening, and that he should
have leave to visit him every day while the frigate remained in harbour.
The first lieutenant now took his leave, and Mrs Crofton observing that
"Pierre would be the better for some sleep, after the excitement of
being moved," invited Bill into her sitting-room, she naturally wishing
to hear more about his adventures in France than Mr Saltwell had been
able to tell her. Bill himself was perfectly willing to talk away on
the subject as long as she wished, especially when he found so ready a
listener in Mary. He began with an account of the blowing up of the
_Foxhound_; and when he had finished, Mrs Crofton wished to know how it
was that he first came to go to sea, and so he had to go back to tell
her all about himself, and the death of his mother, and how he had been
left penniless in the world.
"And now I find you a midshipman with warm friends; in a few years you
will be a lieutenant, then a commander, and next a post-captain, I hope,
and at length a British admiral, and you will have gained your promotion
without the interest of relatives or born friends, simply by your own
good conduct and bravery."
"I don't know what I may become, ma'am," said Bill, inclined to smile at
Mrs Crofton's enthusiasm. "At present I am but a midshipman, but I
will try, as I always have, to do my duty."
This conversation made Bill feel perfectly at home with Mrs Crofton.
Indeed, it seemed to him as if he had known her all his life, so that he
was willing to confide in her as if she were his mother.
He was equally willing to confide in Mary. Indeed, all the reserve he
at first felt quickly wore off, and he talked to her as if she had been
his sister. If he did not say to himself that she was a perfect angel,
he thought her what most people would consider very much better--a kind,
good, honest, open-hearted girl, with clear hazel, truthful eyes, and a
sweet smile on her mouth when she smiled, which was very frequently,
with a hearty ring in her laughter. She reminded him, as she did
Pierre, of Jeannette, and Bill felt very sure that, should she ever have
the opportunity of helping any one in distress, she would be ready to
take as much trouble and run as many risks as the French girl had in
assisting Jack and him.
"Do you know, Mr Rayner, I like midshipmen very much?" she said, in her
artless way. "My brother Oliver is a midshipman, and as I am very fond
of him, I like all midshipmen for his sake. At first I was inclined to
like you because you were a midshipman, but now I like you for
yourself."
"I am much obliged to you," said Bill; "and I like you for yourself, I
can tell you. I didn't know before that you had a brother Oliver.
Where is he serving?"
"On board the _Ariel_ corvette in the West Indies," answered Mary.
"Perhaps some day we may fall in with each other," said Bill; "and I am
very sure, from what you say about him, we shall become good friends,
for I shall be inclined to like him for your sake."
"Then I'm sure he will like you; he could not help doing so. He is only
three years older than I am; just about your age I suppose. He went to
sea when he was a very little fellow with poor dear papa, who was killed
in action. Oliver was by his side at the time, and wrote us home an
account of the sad, sad event, saying how brokenhearted he was. The
people were very kind to him. Papa was lieutenant of the ship, and was
loved by all the men, as I am sure he would have been, remembering how
good and kind and gentle he was with us."
The tears came into Mary's bright eyes as she spoke of her father.
"Whenever we hear of a battle out there, poor mamma is very anxious
until the particulars come home, and she knows that Oliver is safe,"
said Mary. "We are nearly sure to get a letter from him, for he always
writes when he can, and I hope that you'll write also when you are away,
and tell us all that you are doing; then we shall receive two letters
instead of one, and we shall always be so very, very glad to hear from
you."
Bill promised that he would write constantly, saying that he should be
pleased to do so, especially as he had not many correspondents; indeed,
he might have said that he had none, as he was, in truth, not acquainted
with anybody on shore. Mary and her mother were the first friends he
had ever possessed, so that he very naturally valued them the more.
They were of very great service to him in many respects, for Mrs
Crofton was a ladylike and refined person, though her means were small,
and she was able to give him instruction in the ways and manners of
people of education; though Bill was so observant, and anxious to
imitate what was right, that he only required the opportunity to fit
himself thoroughly for his new station in life.
Mr Saltwell lent him books, and he read during every spare moment, to
make amends for his want of early education.
When he came on shore, Mrs Crofton assisted him, and as she knew French
very well, helped him to study it with a grammar and dictionary, which
he found very easy, as he already understood so much of the language,
and he was able to practise speaking with Pierre.
The young Frenchman slowly recovered, but the doctor, who came to visit
him from the hospital every day, said that it would be a long time
before he would regain strength and be able to return to France.
Bill had written, at Pierre's dictation, to Madame Turgot, to tell her
where he was, what had happened to him, and how well he was treated. It
was rather a funny composition, as Pierre was no great scholar, and
could not say how the words should be spelt, but Bill showed it to Mrs
Crofton, who assured him that it would be understood perfectly well,
which was the great object required, and that Madame Turgot would be
satisfied, from the tone and expression, that it came from her son.
There was no regular post in those days between the two countries.
Pierre, however, at length got an answer from his mother, directed to
the care of Mrs Crofton, expressing her heartfelt thanks to Lieutenant
Saltwell and Bill, and the kind lady who had befriended him. She sent
also many messages from Captain Turgot and Jeannette.
The letter arrived just as the _Thisbe_ was ready for sea. Mary could
not help bursting into tears when Bill took his leave for the last time.
"It's just like Oliver going away," she said. Indeed, it was evident
that she looked upon Bill as another Oliver, and even Mrs Crofton
showed how sincerely sorry she was to part with her young visitor, who
had so greatly won on her affections.
She promised to write again to Madame Turgot to let her know how Pierre
was getting on; but there appeared no probability of his being able to
move until the frigate came back, when Mr Saltwell would be able to
make arrangements for his return to France.
Though sorry to leave his kind friends, Bill was very glad to be at sea
again, and engaged in the active duties of his profession. His
messmates treated him with much kindness, and remarked among themselves
the improvement in his manners, while two or three fresh members of the
mess, when they heard how he had gained his promotion, looked upon him
with evident respect. He did not, however, forget his old friends, and
Jack was always pleased when he came forward to talk to him, and did not
appear at all jealous, which could not be said of Tom, who, though he
did not venture to show his feelings, was inclined to keep out of his
way, and sometimes answered in rather a surly tone when spoken to,
always taking care to bring in the "sir" after every sentence, and
touching his hat with mock respect, of which Bill, though he could not
fail to observe, took no notice.
The _Thisbe_ had been several weeks at sea, and had during that time
captured, without firing a shot, three of the enemy's merchantmen, which
she had sent into Plymouth, the more pugnacious of the crew grumbling at
not having encountered an enemy worthy of their prowess, and which would
have afforded them a larger amount of prize-money.
Captain Martin was about to return to port to take on board his officers
and men when he was joined by the _Venus_ frigate. Her captain told him
that he had just before made out two French frigates to the south-east,
and the _Thisbe_ bore up with the _Venus_ in chase, with every stitch of
canvas they could carry set.
A stern chase is proverbially a long chase, and the French frigates,
which had been seen to the eastward, had a considerable start of their
pursuers. Still, as they had been under moderate canvas, it was hoped
that they would set no more sail, and might thus be overtaken.
A sharp look-out was kept, and the officers were continually going aloft
with their glasses, and sweeping the horizon from north to south, in the
hopes of espying the enemy.
"I say, Jack, do you think if we come up with those two Frenchmen we are
chasing they'll turn round and fight us?" asked Tom, who thought it much
pleasanter to capture unarmed merchant vessels than to have to fight an
enemy which sent round shots and bullets on board in return.
"No doubt about that, youngster," answered Ben Twinch, the boatswain's
mate, who overheard Tom's remark. "What do you think we come to sea
for? If we can take a man-of-war of our own size she's worth half a
dozen merchant craft, though, to be sure, some of us may lose the number
of our mess; but we all know that, and make no count of it. Maybe
you'll have your head taken off one of these days, and if you do, you'll
only share the fate of many another fine fellow."
"I hope not!" cried Tom, mechanically putting up his hand to his head as
if to hold it on, and turning from Ben.
"Never fear!" said Jack, wishing to console him; "the chances are that
you will escape and live to fight another day."
If Tom had any fear, it was not the time to show it. He heard all
around him speak of fighting as if it were fun, and of death with
seeming levity. It is the way of the young and the thoughtless. Old
sailors and old soldiers seldom talk thus, and think more of duty than
of glory. For young or for old the loss of life is not a matter for
light talk, as if death were only the end of it. Those that cause war
will have much to reckon for hereafter. But there is no time for such
thoughts in sight of the enemy. So we must go on with our story.
The midshipmen aft were universally anxious to come up with the vessels
of which they were in chase. It was supposed that they were frigates of
the same size as their own and the _Venus_; but should they prove much
larger, they were equally ready to engage them.
Still, hour after hour went by, and no enemy appearing, they began to
fear that the Frenchmen would get into port before they could be
overtaken. At length, just before the sun reached the horizon, his rays
fell on the royals and topgallantsails of two ships right ahead. As the
sun sank lower they were again lost to view, but their appearance
revived the hopes of all on board. It was not likely that they would
alter their course during the night, and it was hoped, therefore, that
before morning they would be overtaken. It was not likely that the
_Thisbe_ and _Venus_, being in the shadow, would have been perceived.
"The chances are that we shall be upon them in the dark," said Jack to
Tom; "and we'll surprise them, I've a notion. The captain thinks so, or
he wouldn't have given the order to prepare for action."
"I would rather fight in daylight," said Tom, "and I hope they'll manage
to keep ahead till then."
Jack laughed, for he suspected that Tom would rather not fight at all.
The watch below were ordered to turn in as usual, but most of the
officers kept on deck, too eager for the work to be able to sleep.