Rayner--for such he ought now to be called--who was in the middle watch,
was standing forward on the look-out, and, as may be supposed, he did
not allow an eye to wink. Several times he thought that he could see
two dark objects rising above the horizon, but his imagination might
have deceived him, for they, at all events, grew no larger. When his
watch was over, he came aft into the midshipmen's berth, where several
of his messmates were collected. He might have turned in, for the night
was drawing on, but there were still two hours to daylight. He, as well
as others, dropped asleep with their heads on the table.
They were aroused from their uncomfortable slumbers by the boatswain's
call, piping the hammocks up, and on coming on deck the first thing they
saw were the two ships they had been chasing all night directly ahead,
their topsails just rising above the water. Their hopes revived that
they would come up with them before the day was many hours older; still
the strangers were a long way out of range of their bow chasers.
As the sun rose and shone on their own canvas they knew that they must
be clearly seen, and it was hoped that the two ships would, if their
captains were inclined to fight, heave to and await their coming.
Such, however, it was evidently the intention of the Frenchman not to
do, for it was seen that studding-sails were being set below and aloft.
"Still they may not have the heels of us," observed Captain Martin to
the first lieutenant; "and before they get into Cherbourg we may be up
to them."
It was thought that as the day advanced the wind might increase, but in
this Captain Martin was disappointed. At length, towards evening, Cape
La Hogue and the coast of France, to the westward of Cherbourg, appeared
in sight. In a few hours it was too probable that the French ships
would get safe into port.
Remarks not over complimentary to the valour of the Frenchmen were made
by the crews of the English frigates, when they saw that the enemy had
escaped them; but as Jack observed, "There's no use grumbling; the
mounseers have got away from us because they knew the tremendous
drubbing we would have given them."
"Perhaps we may see them again before long," said Tom, his courage
returning now that all danger of an encounter had passed. "Depend on
it, our captain will do his best to give them a taste of our quality."
Tom was right; for although the _Thisbe_ and _Venus_ had to haul their
wind, and stand off shore, a bright look-out was kept, in the hopes that
the French frigates might again put to sea.
Day after day passed, and at length the _Venus_ parted company from the
_Thisbe_. The latter frigate was standing across Channel when a lugger
was sighted, to which she gave chase. The stranger at first made all
sail, as if to escape. She was at length seen to heave to. On coming
up with her, it was at first doubtful whether she was English or French,
but as the frigate approached she hoisted English colours and lowered a
boat, which in a short time came alongside, and a fine,
intelligent-looking man stepping upon deck, announced himself as master
of the lugger. He had, he said, at first taken the _Thisbe_ for a
French frigate which was in the habit of coming out of Cherbourg every
evening, picking up any prizes she could fall in with, and returning
next morning with them into port. He had, indeed, narrowly escaped once
before.
This was valuable information, and Captain Martin determined to act upon
it, in the hopes of capturing the marauder. Being engaged in particular
service, the master of the lugger was allowed to proceed on his way, and
the _Thisbe_ stood back towards Cherbourg.
The day passed, and no enemy appeared. Next morning, however, a sail
was seen to the northward. Captain Martin immediately bore up to
ascertain her character. As the daylight increased, all felt confident
that she was a frigate, and probably French. The stranger was seen to
be carrying a press of canvas, and apparently steering for Cherbourg.
To re-enter that port she must encounter the _Thisbe_, on board which
preparations were made for the expected engagement. The stranger, too,
continuing her course, hauled her wind, and stood down Channel, as if
anxious to escape. Why she did so it was difficult to say, except on
the possibility that she had seen another English ship to the northward,
and was unwilling to encounter two enemies at once.
It was the general opinion that she was a powerful frigate, considerably
larger than the _Thisbe_; but even if such were the case, Captain Martin
was not the man to be deterred from engaging her. The stranger sailed
well, and there appeared every probability that she would distance the
_Thisbe_, and if she wished it, get back to port without coming to
action.
In a short time the weather became very thick, and, to the
disappointment of all, the stranger was lost sight of. Still the
_Thisbe_ continued her course, and many a sharp pair of eyes were
employed in looking out for the Frenchman, it being difficult to say,
should the fog lift, in what direction she might next be seen. She
might tack and run back to Cherbourg, or she might, trusting to her
superior sailing, stand across the _Thisbe's_ bows to the southward.
A couple of hours passed. As at any moment the fog might clear away,
and the stranger might appear close aboard her, the _Thisbe_ prepared
for immediate action. The men had been sent below to dinner, and the
prospect of a fight did not damp their appetites.
The midshipmen had finished theirs, and Rayner, who had just relieved
one of his messmates on deck, was on the look-out when he espied, away
on the larboard bow, a sail through the fog, which had somewhat
dispersed in that quarter. A second glance convinced him that she was a
large ship. He instantly shouted out the welcome intelligence. Every
one hoped that she was the vessel they were in search of. The drum beat
to quarters, and scarcely were the guns run out than the fog clearing
still more discovered a large frigate standing under all sail to the
eastward, about half a mile away. If she were the one they had before
seen, she had evidently acted as Captain Martin had supposed might be
the case, and having crossed the _Thisbe's_ course, had then kept away,
hoping to get in shore of her and back to Cherbourg. At once the
_Thisbe_ was put about, and then stood so as to cross the stranger's
bows. The latter, on seeing this, hoisting French colours, rapidly
shortened sail and hauled up to the northward, the two ships crossing
each other on contrary tacks. The _Thisbe_ fired her starboard
broadside, receiving one in return, and then going about, endeavoured to
get to windward of her antagonist. This, however, she was unable to do,
and was compelled to continue the engagement to leeward. Her crew
fought with the usual courage of British seamen, but the enemy's shot
were making fearful havoc on her masts and rigging. Her three lower
masts and bowsprit were in a short time wounded in several places, most
of her stays were shot away, and much damage was done to the main
rigging.
At length her main-topsail yard was shot away in the slings by a
double-headed shot, and the yard-arms came down in front of the
mainyard, the leech ropes of the mainsail were cut to pieces and the
sail riddled. All the time, also, whenever the ships were within
musket-range, showers of bullets came rattling on board, and several of
the men were laid low.
Still Captain Martin did not attempt to escape from his opponent, which
was seen to have twenty guns on a side, besides quarter-deck guns, and a
number of men armed with muskets. He hoped, by perseverance, to knock
away her masts or inflict such other serious injury as might compel her
to give in.
This was Rayner's first action since he had attained his present rank.
He endeavoured to maintain his character, and though it was trying work
to see his shipmates struck down on either side of him, he did not for a
moment think of himself or the risk he ran of meeting the same fate.
All the time spars, rigging, and blocks were falling from aloft, shot
away by the hot fire of the enemy. He endeavoured to keep himself cool
and composed, and to execute the orders he received.
Jack and Tom were employed as powder-monkeys on the maindeck, when
Rayner was sent by the captain to ascertain what was going on. As he
went along it he passed his two friends.
Jack was as active as ever, handing up the powder required; poor Tom
looked the picture of misery.
"Ain't the enemy going to strike yet, Mr Rayner?" he asked, in a
melancholy tone; "we've been a long time about it, and I thought they
would have given in long ago."
"I hope they soon will have enough of it and give in, and we must blaze
away at them until they do," answered the midshipman, hurrying on.
Just then a shot came crashing in through the side, passing just where
Rayner had been standing, sending the splinters flying about in all
directions. He had not time to look round, but thought he heard a cry
as if some one had been hit, and he hurried on to deliver his message to
the second lieutenant.
On his way back he took a glance to see how it fared with his two
friends. Tom was seated on his tub, but poor Jack lay stretched on
deck. Rayner, hastening to him, lifted him up.
"I'm only hit in the leg," answered Jack to his inquiries. "It hurt me
very much, and I fell, but I'll try to do my duty." How barbarous is
war!
Rayner, however, saw that this was impossible, as the blood was flowing
rapidly from the wounded limb, and calling one of the people appointed
to attend those who were hurt, he ordered him to carry Jack below.
"Tell the surgeons he's badly wounded, and get them to attend to him at
once," he said.
He longed to be able to go himself, but his duty compelled him to return
to the upper deck. Scarcely had he got there than he saw, to his grief,
that the enemy had dropped under the stern, and the next instant,
discharging her broadside, she raked the _Thisbe_ fore and aft. In vain
the latter tried to escape from her critical position; before she could
do so she was a second time raked, the gaff being shot away, the
mizenmast injured, and the remaining rigging cut through and through.
Fortunately, the _Thisbe_ still answered her helm, and the crew were
endeavouring to make sail, when the enemy ranged up on the starboard
quarter, her forecastle being covered with men, evidently intending to
board.
Captain Martin, on seeing this, sent Rayner below with orders to double
shot the after-maindeck guns, and to fire them as the enemy came close
up. The next he shouted the cry which British seamen are always ready
to obey, "Boarders, repel boarders;" and every man not engaged at the
guns hurried aft, cutlass in hand, ready to drive back the foe as soon
as the ships should touch; but ere that moment arrived, an iron shower
issued from the guns beneath their feet, crashing through the
Frenchman's bows and tearing along her decks. Instead of coming on, she
suddenly threw all her sails aback, and hauled off out of gunshot. On
seeing this, the British crew uttered three hearty cheers, and Rayner,
with others who had hurried from below, fully believed that the enemy
had hauled down her flag, but instead of that, under all the sail she
could carry, she continued standing away until she had got two miles
off. Here she hove-to, in order, it was evident, to repair damages.
These must have been very severe, for many of her men were seen over the
sides engaged in stopping shot-holes, while the water, which issued
forth in cascades, showed that the pumps were being worked with might
and main to keep her from sinking.
The _Thisbe_ was in too crippled a condition to follow. Several shot
had passed between wind and water on both sides. One gun on the
quarter-deck and two on the maindeck were dismounted, and almost all the
tackles and breachings were cut away. The maindeck before the mainmast
was torn up from the waterway to the hatchways, and the bits were shot
away, as was the chief part of the gangways. Not an officer had been
killed, but two midshipmen, the master, and gunner, were wounded.
Twenty men were wounded and eleven lost the number of their mess.
The wind, which had been moderate when the action began, had now greatly
increased. Not a moment was lost in commencing the repair of damages.
The sky indicated the approach of bad weather, and a westerly or
south-westerly gale might be expected. Before all the shot-holes could
be stopped it came on to blow very hard. Plymouth being too far to the
westward, the nearest shelter the _Thisbe_ could reach was Portland,
towards which she steered.
The moon coming forth, she had light sufficient to run in and anchor,
protected by the projecting headland from the furious gale now blowing.
Many a brave man on board besides the captain breathed more freely than
they had done for some hours when the anchor was dropped and the torn
canvas furled. Still the _Thisbe_ would be in a critical position
should the wind shift more to the southward, as she would be exposed to
the seas rolling into the bay.