WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE "OSTERLEY"--HAD BEEN TAKEN BY THE ENEMY AND
CARRIED INTO PORT--PASSENGERS KEPT PRISONERS ON THE ISLAND.
When the "Osterley" left Calcutta she stood across the Bay of Bengal,
and there appeared to be every prospect of a favourable commencement of
the voyage. She had a good many passengers, but not so many as she
would have had, probably, had she been going home direct. They were
chiefly married ladies, accompanying their children; or civilians, or
military men returning after many years' service; or invalids, hoping to
regain their health in the land of their birth.
Altogether, Miss Armytage did not expect to find much to interest her
among the companions of her voyage, as they, one after the other, made
their appearance on the poop-deck of the Indiaman, on which she was
seated. It is possible that, while the pilot vessel continued in sight,
she might have taken an occasional glance to ascertain how the little
vessel was performing her voyage, and afterwards it is certain that she
was lost in a reverie, from which she was not aroused till her mother
had several times addressed her with the inquiry whether she was not
excessively hungry, and would go down and get ready for dinner. Mrs
Armytage was a very good-natured woman, and not destitute of sense, but
she had no romance in her composition. She was a great contrast to her
unhappy sister, Hilda.
Edda aroused herself. "Yes, mamma; if it is necessary to appear at
dinner, I will go down with you."
"Of course, dear; and here is Captain Winslow coming to offer you his
arm."
However, he offered it to Mrs Armytage herself, and with his most
polite of bows, begged that they would take their seats near him at
table. Captain Winslow was courteous to all his passengers, but he
certainly paid more attention to the Armytage party than to all the
rest.
After dinner, most of the passengers were collected on the poop,
watching two vessels which appeared in the distance. One was evidently
a native craft, a Dhow or Pattarmar, from her high stern,
curiously-projecting bow, and lofty lateen sail. She had apparently
communicated with the other stranger, which was a ship of some size, and
was now working in towards the land.
The ship engrossed the chief attention of the passengers. She was a
flush-decked vessel or corvette--large for that class of craft, with
very square yards. Miss Armytage hoped that her mother would not
overhear the observations which the appearance of the strange sail
called forth. She was looked upon by all as a very suspicious craft.
Under what flag she sailed was a question, but it was very evident that
she was a man-of-war, a privateer, or a pirate. She was an armed
vessel--she was not a British man-of-war--she might be an English
privateer, but she had the look of a foreigner.
By degrees the suspicions respecting the character of the stranger
increased, till few had any doubt that he was an enemy. Captain,
Winslow, however, was not to be intimidated by the appearance of the
ship. Captain Winslow had probably made up his own mind as to what he
would do, but, under the circumstances of the case, he judged it
necessary to call his officers and the principal passengers together, to
ask their opinion as to what course should be pursued. Colonel Armytage
was, of course, summoned to the consultation. The captain opened the
proceedings.
"No one will doubt that, should the sail in sight prove an enemy--for
that has not yet been ascertained--we should run for it," he observed.
"There is no disgrace in that; our business is to carry passengers and
cargo, and we shall do wisely to stick to our business as long as we
can; but the question, gentlemen, which I have to submit to your
consideration is, shall we fight and defend our ship, the passengers and
property confided to our care, or shall we yield to what may prove
superior force?"
"Superior force or not, I say, sir, by the powers! let us fight it out
to the last, and drive off the enemy," exclaimed the first mate. He
spoke out of order, but his opinion was echoed by his brother officers,
and by most of the passengers, Colonel Armytage was in favour of
fighting to the last.
"Should she prove a privateer, and we take her, we should do well to
hang every one of her crew up to the yard-arm as pirates, for they are
in no degree better," he exclaimed, in a tone which showed his annoyance
at the prospect of so disagreeable an interruption to their voyage.
"We shall do well to take the enemy before we decide what is to be done
with him," observed the captain.
Some few of the passengers were for temporising measures; they proposed
hoisting a flag of truce, and endeavouring to come to terms with the
enemy.
"Not very likely, gentlemen, that if the enemy think they have the power
to take the ship, and everything on board her, they will be content with
a portion," answered the captain. "The majority are decidedly for
fighting; we will prepare the ship for action."
The Indiaman was kept on her course, but all the sail she could possibly
carry was set on her. The stranger was at this time to the south-east,
her hull just rising above the horizon.
The Indiaman was before the wind, so was the stranger, but her courses
were brailed up, and she was evidently waiting for some purpose or
other; she certainly, at present, did not look like an object to be
dreaded.
The alarm of the ladies gradually subsided, till they began to wonder
why it should be thought necessary to make such preparations for
fighting; why the shot was got up, the powder-tubs filled, and the guns
loaded, and boarding nettings made ready for rigging.
For some time the stranger did not appear to alter her position. When,
however, at length the Indiaman, under all sail, began to put forth her
speed, giving evidence that she might be many leagues to the southward
by nightfall, the ship in the distance let fall her courses, and her
head coming round, she was seen to be steering a course which would
intersect that of the "Osterley."
"It will come to a fight, sir, I suspect," observed the captain to
Colonel Armytage.
"So much the better, for I suppose that there is but little doubt that
we shall beat off the enemy," answered the colonel. "We have plenty of
men, and some serviceable guns, and I trust your fellows will do their
duty like men."
"I trust so, too, sir; but probably that ship out there has more men and
longer guns than we have," said the captain, gravely. "We should not
conceal from ourselves that the contest will be a severe one, at all
events, and the termination doubtful. I would not say this to the crew,
or to the passengers generally, but in the event of disaster, how are we
to protect the helpless beings committed to our charge--the ladies and
children? Some of these Frenchmen, I have heard, are fiends incarnate
in the moment of victory, and if we offer a stout resistance, and are
conquered at last, what is to be done?"
"I should feel inclined to blow up the ship rather than run any risk of
the ladies suffering violence," exclaimed the colonel, pacing the deck
in an agitated manner.
"That were scarcely right in the sight of God, or wise in that of men,"
said the captain, calmly: "I had to propose that at a signal which the
chief officer who survives shall give they all assemble in the main
cabin, and that then we rally round them, and refuse to yield till the
enemy agree to terms."
"Your plan is good, but you look at the dark side of things," remarked
Colonel Armytage.
"I look at both sides, sir," was the answer. "The `Osterley' is a fast
ship, and we may run away from our pursuer; if we are overtaken, we may
beat her off, or after all she may prove to be no enemy at all. You
see, sir, I turn the state of the case right round; I like to settle
beforehand how, under all circumstances, I shall act."
"I see, Captain Winslow, you are a man of forethought--a useful quality
in your profession," said Colonel Armytage, though he did not make the
remark with the best possible grace. In truth, he was inclined to look
down on the sea captain as a person of a very inferior grade to himself,
though compelled under peculiar circumstances to associate with him.
With one of his formal bows he said that he must go below to make the
ladies understand the arrangements contemplated for them.
Edda heard of the expected combat with perfect calmness.
"How I pity the poor men who may be wounded in the battle!" she
remarked.
Her father sneered.
"May we go on deck and help them?" she asked suddenly. "I am sure that
we can be of use."
"Certainly not," he answered, sternly. "We shall have enough to do
without being interrupted by the interference of women."
"Oh, father! do not say that," said Edda. "We would be of all the use
in our power; we would tend the wounded; we would take food to those who
were weary; we would carry up powder and shot if required. I have read
of women doing such things. Why should not we?"
"Because there are men enough to fight, and it is considered that you
will be safer down below," said Colonel Armytage, casting a look of
involuntary admiration at his daughter. "Round shots are no respecters
of persons, and one might destroy you or your mother or the other women
as readily as the roughest man on board. In Heaven's name, child, keep
out of danger."
A part of the hold was quickly arranged for the accommodation of the
ladies during the expected action. Two lanterns were hung up in it
below the beams, but notwithstanding all that was done, it was a very
dreary, dark abode. Edda entreated that she and her mother might remain
on deck till they were within range of the enemy's guns. Most of the
other ladies followed her example, and the deck once more resumed its
usual orderly appearance, though there were signs of the expected strife
in the warlike costumes of the gentlemen, who walked up and down with
swords buckled to their sides, pistols in their belts, or muskets on
their shoulders.
The captain had not vainly boasted of the sped of the ship, and, as he
now hauled up a little to the westward there appeared to be a
considerable chance of her running the stranger out of sight during the
night. Darkness was now coming on. The stranger was seen on the
lee-quarter continuing the pursuit under all sail. Some of the more
timid suggested that part of the cargo should be thrown overboard to
lighten the ship, so as to afford them a better chance of escaping, but
to this the captain would not consent. He was responsible for the
property. He hoped to defend it and every part of it, and even if hove
away it could do little to aid their escape. His calmness and
determination infused courage into all around him. Night came on. The
stranger was still far beyond gunshot. Not a light was allowed to be
shown on board the Indiaman. The ladies were induced to retire to their
cabins, many under the happy belief that all danger had passed, and that
they might look forward to a pleasant continuance of the voyage. None
of the officers or crew, however, went below.
Many of the passengers also remained on deck. As night closed in, far
off was still to be seen the dark outline of the stranger ship. Was she
gaining on the "Osterley?" Captain Winslow and his officers looked and
looked again. There seemed to be little doubt about that. No more
canvas could be clapped on the Indiaman. Everything had been done that
could be thought of to make her sail fast. A hurricane just then would
have been welcome. Clouds were gathering in the sky, and, as the night
drew on, the darkness increased. At length the stranger was hid from
sight. Some declared that they could still see her, but Captain Winslow
was of opinion that they were mistaken. Still even he, as he walked the
deck, continued to cast many an anxious glance astern. He called his
first officer to him, and they held an earnest consultation together.
"We'll try it," he observed; and the yards were squared away, and the
Indiaman was once more steering to the southward dead before the wind;
it was her best point of sailing. It was hoped that the stranger,
believing that she was bound for Madras, would continue the chase in
that direction. The darkness continued.
"Well, sir, I trust that we have given that suspicious-looking gentleman
the go-by," observed the captain to Colonel Armytage. "Perhaps it might
be better to inform the ladies of this, to tranquillise any alarm they
may still feel."
"Have no anxiety on that score. I do not allow my wife and daughter to
indulge in idle apprehensions," answered the colonel in the supercilious
tone in which he frequently spoke.
"This man may be a very important personage, but he is a very
disagreeable one," thought Captain Winslow, as he turned away.
The worthy captain was well-nigh wearied out, so, summoning his first
officer to take charge of the deck, he returned to his cabin to
endeavour to snatch a short rest, leaving directions to be summoned
should any change occur in the present state of things.
The first officer had been one of the most anxious to fight. He
believed that they might not only beat off the enemy, but take her also,
and he now kept a bright look-out, hoping that she might again appear.
He was a young man, and thought more of the honour and glory to be
gained than of the risk to be run. Over and over again his night-glass
swept round in the direction of the eastern horizon. The range of his
vision was limited. After taking a long gaze he suddenly exclaimed,
"There she is though!" He called an old quartermaster and bade him take
the glass.
"Yes, sir, she's the ship, there's no doubt about it. She has been
keeping way easily with us," observed the seaman. "I'd sooner that
craft, Mr Lloyd, were a hundred miles away, or a thousand, for that
matter, than where she is: we none of us likes her looks, and she'll
prove a rummish customer if she gets alongside of us."
"Oh, never fear, Davis; you'll all fight like Britons, and beat her off;
or take her, maybe. But call the captain, and let him know our friend
is in sight, away on the larboard beam."
Captain Winslow was on deck in an instant. He had been dreaming of the
stranger. There she moved like a dark phantom, silently stalking over
the waters.
There was something peculiarly ominous in her appearance. The very
silence with which she glided on through the darkness was threatening.
She soon came up within range, but not a shot was fired. There she
remained gliding on, with her courses brailed up, keeping pace with the
Indiaman. It was very evident that she might have come down upon her
long before had she chosen.
The approach of the stranger quickly became known in the cabin, and the
gentlemen passengers were soon congregating on deck, many of them
buckling on their swords and examining the locks of their pistols by the
light of the binnacle lamp. Various opinions were offered. Some
thought that Captain Winslow ought to begin the battle by firing a
broadside into the stranger; but he declined the proposal, and suggested
that it would be better to ascertain first whether she was inimically
disposed.
"She can scarcely be a friend, or she would not frighten people so
horribly," observed some one, but the speaker was not discovered.
The remark produced a laugh, and the spirits of the more timid began to
rise.
"Perhaps the gentleman intends to wait till daylight to commence sport,"
observed the previous speaker.
Another hour passed by; Captain Winslow could not help feeling that his
ship was completely in the power of the stranger. She evidently sailed
two feet to his one; could shoot ahead and rake him, or could stand off
and cannonade him with her long guns, without his being able to return a
shot. A sturdy Briton as he was, he almost wished, for the sake of all
on board, especially of the females, that it had been determined to
yield at once.
"No, no, that would never do," he muttered soon after to himself; "we'll
fight, and defend them like men."
The stranger had been edging in nearer and nearer to the Indiaman. The
ladies had been assembled and sent to their apartment in the hold. They
were told it was only as a precautionary measure in case of an action.
They endeavoured to keep up each other's spirits, hoping for the best.
Miss Armytage sat by her mother, calm and resigned, endeavouring to
read, but her mind often left the page and wandered far away.
Some few tried to talk, but they found the effort vain. A few young
girls laughed and joked, and tried to persuade themselves that there was
nothing to dread, but they too soon became silent, and the whole party
sat patiently waiting for the event they dreaded, yet hoped might be
avoided. They had no means of ascertaining what was taking place; Edda
offered to go up and learn, but her mother entreated her to remain where
she was, reminding her of her father's commands. The time passed slowly
by; many thought that it must be soon day. All hoped that it would be,
for they fancied that with the light the stranger would be discovered to
be a friend. Not a sound from the deck above reached them. The silence
itself was painful. It was suddenly broken by the deep-toned voice of
the captain speaking through a trumpet. Then came the concussion and
fierce roar of the guns overhead, followed by the thunder of those of
their opponent, and the crash of the shot as they tore their way through
the sides of the ship. Many of the ladies shrieked loudly, with wild
fright, and clung trembling to each other. Yes, the bloody fight had
really begun; how would it terminate? Next there was a crashing sound
as if the ship had struck on a rock, and she trembled in all her
timbers, and there was still the roar of the great guns, but added to it
the rattle of musketry; and now followed wild shouts and shrieks, and
the clashing of steel as cutlass met cutlass, and men strove desperately
for life, and there was the sharp report of pistol shots, and the cries
increased; and there was the tramping of feet, every moment becoming
louder, and the clashing of swords, and the shouts and cries growing
nearer. And now one of the officers rushed down the ladder. His face
was pale; there was blood on his arm.
"Ladies, we will defend you to the last," he exclaimed. "But come up on
the main-deck, and keep together. We have been boarded and overpowered.
We have rallied on the afterpart of the deck, and hold it still; but
there is no time to be lost."
Miss Armytage and her mother were the first to lead the way. When they
reached the main-deck they saw the gallant band of the defenders
struggling with overwhelming numbers of the enemy. In the front rank
was Colonel Armytage. A huge seaman, a negro, had attacked him, and was
pressing him hard. He seemed to be already wounded; others were rushing
on. His foot slipped and he fell. His opponent's cutlass was uplifted
to give him a blow, which must have proved fatal, when a young officer
sprang forward, interposed his own sword, and turned aside the weapon of
his enemy.
"Yield, sir," he exclaimed in French. "You are a prisoner, and your
life shall be respected." As he spoke, aided by the others, he dragged
the colonel, no longer able to resist, out from the _melee_, and at that
moment Edda recognised him as the young stranger whom she had met so
frequently at Calcutta.
"All who yield shall have quarter," cried a voice from among the
assailants of the British. "We are honourable enemies, and seek the
lives of none who no longer resist. The ladies shall be protected."
"It's Hobson's choice," said one of the passengers: "let us make terms
while we can."
Several others expressed the same opinion. Indeed, it was evident that
further resistance was useless. The ship was already in possession of
the enemy. The captain was not with them. Where he was, no one knew.
Too probably he was wounded; perhaps killed. Colonel Armytage was a
prisoner. The first officer lay desperately wounded in the front rank
of the little band, who had so gallantly held out to the last.
"Drop your swords, brave enemies, and the Frenchman who makes another
stroke at your head, dies," said the voice.
Although many had but little faith in the promise, they yielded to
necessity. The captors, however, kept their word.
The captain, a stout middle-aged man, came forward, and taking the
swords of the officers, bowed to the group of ladies, and assured them
that everything in his power would be done for their accommodation.
"Oh, bring my father, then!" exclaimed Miss Armytage. "Let us attend to
him, should he be hurt."
"The officer, my lieutenant, took prisoner?--certainly. He shall be
placed under your charge, madam," answered the captain, with a bow.
As soon as it was daylight, the English part of the Indiaman's crew,
with the officers, as well as the military men among the passengers,
were removed on board her captor, which proved to be "La Sybille," a
French privateer corvette. Her name had lately become known for the
havoc she had committed among the British merchantmen, many of which had
been carried off, but what had afterwards become of them it had not been
hitherto ascertained.
It was a great relief to Edda to receive a visit from Captain Winslow.
He was wounded, and having been knocked down and stunned when the
Frenchman boarded, he had not recovered till the ship was completely in
their power.
Several of the Indiaman's officers and crew had been killed or wounded,
but the bloody signs of the conflict had been removed when the ladies
once more appeared on deck. Strangers navigated the ship, and Edda
observed that her Calcutta acquaintance had the command. He approached,
however, but seldom, and always with the signs of the most profound
respect. Edda sometimes observed him standing at a distance, watching
her, with his arms folded on his bosom, and a melancholy expression in
his countenance. Still, she did not altogether like his look, though it
would have been difficult for her to determine why. One thing certainly
was against him. He had been acting the part of a spy at Calcutta, and
it at once occurred to her, that it was probably owing to the
information he had obtained that the "Osterley" had been watched for,
and fallen into the hands of the enemy. Senor Gerardo, as he had called
himself, at the same time paid the greatest attention to Colonel
Armytage, and seemed to anticipate all his wants; indeed, no captors
could have behaved with more attention to their prisoners than did the
officers of "La Sybille" to the passengers of the "Osterley."
The two ships were now sailing together, to the eastward of south, but
where they were going, no one could ascertain. A sentry was stationed
at the compass, and though they were allowed to range anywhere else
about the ship, when any one drew near that, they were civilly ordered
to move away. Ten or more days passed, and the two ships lay at anchor
in a beautiful bay, among a group of islands, some of considerable
elevation, and covered with all the varied productions of the tropics.
There were few signs of cultivation, but there were numerous huts and
tents scattered about, and it was evident that the island had been taken
possession of by the French as a rendezvous for their cruisers. Another
Indiaman lay at anchor with her masts and spars in a shattered
condition, as if she had met with a gale on her passage there, and had
not been in a fit condition to send away. On a near inspection a
battery was discovered thrown up on each side of the bay, while a strong
fort in the centre commanded the anchorage, and sentries were seen
pacing the beach to prevent the possibility of any prisoners escaping.
The passengers remained on board two days, while workmen were seen on
shore, erecting fresh huts. During this time, Lieutenant Gerardo was
constant in his attentions to Edda, but they were so delicately offered,
and his manners were so gentlemanly and refined, that she was almost
angry with herself for not feeling more grateful. At last the whole
party were directed by the French captain who came on board, to prepare
for going on shore, and informed that they were at liberty to take every
part of their private property with them.
"We do not war with individuals, and we feel deeply the necessity we are
under of placing a restraint on your actions."
The young lieutenant expressed his great regret at no longer being
allowed to have charge of them. "Still I trust, Miss Armytage, that you
will allow me occasionally to come and inquire after your health. `La
Sybille' requires repairs, and will be detained here some time."
At first Colonel Armytage received him with great coldness, naturally
looking on him with contempt, as having played the dishonourable part of
a spy during his visit to Calcutta; but the lieutenant explained the
cause of his appearance there so much to the colonel's satisfaction, and
his attentions were so unremitting and delicate, that he completely won
his way into the good graces of the English officer.
Gerardo was too acute an observer not to have discovered the authority
Colonel Armytage exercised over his family, and he fancied that the most
certain way of winning the daughter was first to gain over the father.
By degrees also he obtained the good opinion of Mrs Armytage. He never
obtruded his services, but he offered them to her in so delicate a
manner, and showed so much pleasure in being employed, that it was
scarcely possible for her to refuse them. All the fruits and flowers
which the islands produced were collected and brought to her and her
daughter, often not obtained without difficulty, while numberless
objects of interest, evidently taken out of prizes, were offered for
their acceptance.
Very few of the other officers came near them; indeed, they appeared
generally to be of a different stamp to the captain and his first
lieutenant.
"We really might be very happy here if we did not wish to be elsewhere,"
observed Mrs Armytage to her daughter.
"Yes, certainly," remarked another lady. "But what shall we do when our
clothes wear out? It will be shocking not to be able to get any of the
new fashions. I am afraid our polite captain and Monsieur Gerardo will
not think half as much about us then."
"You don't suppose that we are to be kept here for ever!" exclaimed
another lady, in a great state of agitation.
"Perhaps till the war is over--such things are done," remarked Mrs
Armytage, who, having her husband and daughter with her, was more
inclined to be contented with her lot than were most of the party.
With most of the captives, however, the days in that delightful climate
passed pleasantly and rapidly by. Had Ronald Morton wished Edda to be
placed in a position where her thoughts would most probably be occupied
with him, he could scarcely have selected one more favourable for the
purpose than that in which she now found herself.
What might have been the effect of the young French lieutenant's devoted
attention, it is impossible to say; but though he was present, the
absent Morton ever stepped in to prevent him from making the slightest
impression on her affections. The more she thought of Morton, the more
vividly did she realise his noble qualities, his manly appearance; and
thinking of him, she naturally taught herself to believe that, in some
way or the other, she and her friends would be rescued from their
present trying and anxious position. All the time they could not but
feel that they were in the hands of enemies, who, though they behaved
well at present, might at any moment change their conduct.
Both the French ship and the Indiaman had suffered considerably in the
action; and since their arrival they had been undergoing repairs. These
were now completed. The privateer's men were also refreshed, and eager
to go in search of fresh spoil.
With heavy hearts the late officers and passengers of the "Osterley" saw
her under all sail, standing out of the bay. It appeared as if their
home--the only means of escaping from their bondage--was leaving them.
Many gave way to tears at the sight, and few looked on unmoved. Two
days afterwards the corvette herself put to sea, both her captain and
first lieutenant going in her. A small garrison was left in each of the
forts, and the seamen remained in prison on board the dismasted prize,
under a strong guard. As there were only a few small canoes on the
beach, used for fishing, and none of the prisoners had arms of any
description, there was very little chance of their attacking the
garrison, or attempting to make their escape. An old French military
officer, who acted as governor, was a very strict disciplinarian, and
was continually going from fort to fort and inspecting his troops, so
that neither he nor they were likely to be caught asleep. Indeed, it
appeared that nothing was likely to occur to disturb the perfect
tranquillity of the island.