THE FRIGATE ATTEMPTS TO ESCAPE FROM THE FIRE-SHIP--THE BURNING FRIGATE--
DANGER OF THE PASSENGERS--ESCAPE FROM THE BURNING SHIP--ON BOARD THE
"SCORPION"--LORD CLAYMORE ILL SUPPORTED--THE "SCORPION" SENT TO THE
NORTH SEA.
The night passed off without any attack on the French fleet from the
British fire-ships. Pedro Alvarez, or rather Captain Gerardin, offered
to land Colonel Armytage on his parole with his family and Donna Julia,
so that they might remain in a place of safety in case of threatened
danger; but the colonel, with his characteristic obstinacy, declined the
favour, saying that he felt himself in perfect safety on board the
frigate. It must be said that the general opinion among the French
officers was, that the English would not attack them, while he,
accustomed to hold the navy somewhat in contempt, persuaded himself that
they would not dare to make the attempt.
The evening had passed much as others had done. Edda enjoyed it the
more that Hernan was absent. The captain, as he had been accustomed,
brought his guitar into the cabin, and played and sang a number of
Spanish airs, and persuaded Donna Julia to do the same. Father Mendez,
as he well could when he had the will, made himself very agreeable by
describing many places he had visited, and narrating a number of
anecdotes. Even Colonel Armytage entered freely into conversation, and
he and Father Mendez soon became on very friendly terms. The marquis
was the only person who was in ill temper. He sat aloof from the rest
of the party, and refused all invitations to join in the conversation.
The truth was, he had begun to suspect that Pedro Alvarez and Father
Mendez were plotting against him. He felt himself in the power of
Tacon, whom he knew would give them all the information they required,
while he looked with a suspicious eye on the young lieutenant, whose
likeness to Don Hernan Escalante had forcibly struck him. His daughter
only fancied that he was unhappy at being a prisoner; but as she was in
very pleasant society, and was treated with all courtesy and kindness,
she had no cause to complain.
Some of the other officers of the ship came in, cards were introduced,
and the marquis was tempted to play. Colonel Armytage joined him. It
was a somewhat incongruous collection of people. With music and
conversation the evening passed rapidly away, and the party continued
together till a much later hour than usual.
The captain handed his guitar to Donna Julia with a gallant bow.
"One more song, sweet lady," he said. "It is seldom we seamen enjoy the
delightful harmony you have afforded us this evening."
Donna Julia took the instrument, and running her fingers over the cords
commenced a low and plaintive air. Her voice was sweet, but not strong,
though it was sufficient to fill the cabin, and to rivet the attention
of all present. The air was sad and plaintive, and from the pathos with
which she sung, it showed too clearly her own feelings. It is wonderful
how music unlocks the heart, and melts the long pent-up stream. Not a
sound but that sweet voice was heard. The seamen on their watch
overhead stopped in their walk to listen to strains so unusual.
Suddenly a roar, more terrific than the bursting of a volcano, was
heard, followed by shrieks, and groans, and cries; a bright light was
seen glancing over the water through the stern ports; the ship shook
from her keel. The guitar fell from Donna Julia's hands. Mrs Armytage
grasped her daughter's arm, expecting something more dreadful to follow,
and believing that the ship was about to blow up. The gentlemen started
to their feet; the officers rushed out of the cabin. The scene which
met their view was sufficient to inspire the stoutest heart with fear.
Directly ahead, and rushing towards them, was a vast fiery mass,
furiously darting forth flames, sufficient, should it reach her, to wrap
the frigate in a destructive embrace. At the same time, from out of
this floating volcano, shot forth red-hot missiles, which fell in
destructive showers on her decks. The crew, in dismay, were running for
shelter below, till their captain's voice was heard high above the din,
calling on them to act like men, and to endeavour to save the ship by
throwing overboard their dangerous visitors.
The remaining boats were then ordered to be lowered to tow aside the
burning mass now close at hand. But who would venture to approach it?
"Alfonse would have attempted it!" exclaimed the captain, but not an
officer moved. Certain destruction would be their doom.
"I then must go myself; who will follow me?" cried the captain.
Numbers of the crew sprang towards the boats. There was ample light to
see what was to be done. At that instant the flames and sparks darted
up higher than ever, and then, as if it were the work of magic, there
was total darkness; the explosion vessel had sunk: the frigate was
saved.
"We must get under weigh," cried the captain. "The boom has been
shattered. Another vessel may strike the same spot with more success,
and we may not escape her so easily."
The crew flew aloft to loosen sails. They were eager to avoid a similar
danger to that which had almost paralysed them. Before they were again
off the yards another fearful explosion took place close to them, but
though numerous fiery fragments fell on board, few were hurt. Had they
not been aloft many more would have suffered. The cable was slipped,
and the frigate now began to move through the water.
On hearing the second explosion, the remaining occupants of the cabin
rushed up on deck. Colonel Armytage was the least agitated, but even he
did not attempt to quiet the alarm of his wife and daughter. Father
Mendez trembled like an aspen leaf. The usual calmness of his exterior
had disappeared. The danger which threatened was strange,
incomprehensible. So occupied were the officers and crew, that none of
the party were observed. The spectacle which soon after met their sight
was not calculated to allay their terror.
For a few minutes all was again darkness, and then rapidly, one after
the other, masses of flame burst forth from the surface of the ocean,
hurrying towards them. As they approached, the sails and rigging of
large vessels were seen amid the flames. No human beings could have
stood on those decks; but yet onward came, rushing impetuously, the
burning fleet. They were the much dreaded fire-ships. On they came.
The boom had been forced. By what power could they be resisted? The
French ships opened their fire on them, and shot were flying about among
friends and foes, increasing the confusion and dismay. Still the
fire-ships sailed on, intent on their mission of destruction. Now a
line-of-battle ship was grappled. For long her gallant crew in vain
sacrificed their lives in the attempt to free her from the fire-ship's
deadly embrace. The cables were cat, and both together drifted away to
leeward. And now dismay seized nearly all the French officers and
crews. Simultaneously the cables were slipped, and they endeavoured to
avoid the threatened danger by flight. Some effected their escape, but
others were overtaken by the fire-ships, and were seen surrounded by
flames. The frigate had been kept under weigh, firing sometimes at the
fire-ships as they sailed by, and at others at boats which were supposed
to be English. As the fire reached the guns of the burning ships they
were discharged right and left, and a whole broadside was poured into
the frigate. It was blowing strong--a shot struck her foremast, and
with all its top hamper away it went over the side, carrying the
maintopmast with it. The frigate luffed up into the wind and became
unmanageable. A fire-ship was approaching. On it came. It got
entangled in the wreck of the mast, and soon the frigate herself was
wrapped in flames.
Edda saw and comprehended the danger. "Oh, mother, we will die
together!" she exclaimed, for she saw no hope of escape.
The crew, led by their captain, made many gallant attempts to cut clear
the wreck and the fire-ships, but each time the fierce heat of the
flames drove them back again. Still they persevered. They all saw
that, with the few boats they had remaining, unless the flames were
subdued they must be destroyed. From the rest of the squadron they
could expect no help; some of the ships were seeking safety in flight,
others were in alike predicament as themselves. The French officers
exerted themselves heroically. Again and again they led their men up
among the flames, where many, as with axes in hand they cut away at the
spars or ropes, lost their hold and fell headlong into the burning mass,
or were suffocated by the smoke. Many were precipitated into the water;
and their shrieks were heard as they struggled vainly in their endeavour
to reach the burning frigate driving away before them. Even at that
moment the brave Pedro Alvarez did not forget his passengers. He had
done all that a man could do to save the ship, but he believed that his
efforts would prove fruitless. He now thought of the means of saving
his friends. He was hurrying to the cabin when he perceived them
grouped together on the deck. The three ladies stood, not shrieking nor
giving way to fear, but calm and collected, waiting till they received
directions what to do. Colonel Armytage, with the marquis and Father
Mendez were endeavouring to shield them from the sparks, which flew
thickly around, and threatened to ignite their dresses. The colonel
looked up and saw that the flames were rapidly gaining on the ship. He
was not altogether so stubborn and selfish as not to wish to preserve
the lives of his wife and daughter. The awful scene made him also more
kind and gentle than usual.
"Edda--wife, daughter, we must get you into the boats," he said. "Donna
Julia, and her father, and the priest will accompany us. I must obtain
assistance from some of the crew."
"The boats--the boats!" shouted the captain, rushing now to one side of
the ship--now to the other; they were gone!
Some of the dastards among the crew, in selfish haste to save
themselves, had leaped into them and pulled away.
Where all this time was the first-lieutenant of the ship? He with his
boats had not returned; what had become of him no one could tell. He
might have missed the frigate, and gone in another direction, or might
have been captured by the English. Secretly, Pedro Alvarez hoped that
this might be the case, for whatever his adopted son, who had always
been brought up as a Frenchman, might think on the subject, he had begun
to wish that he could be engaged in fighting the battles of his native
country, instead of those of her enemies and oppressors.
Thinking of Hernan reminded him of his prisoner, and the old pirate
Tacon. To his adopted son the old man's life was of the greatest
importance. Should he be destroyed one chief witness of his identity
would be lost. He hurried below to release him. He was only just in
time to save him from suffocation, for the smoke was already finding its
way along the decks. He had found the armourer on his way, and ordering
him to knock off the prisoner's fetters, he dragged him up, and placed
him close to Colonel Armytage.
"Much depends on his safety: keep your eye on him, sir," he said.
A terrible idea occurred to him. The magazine had not been drowned.
Should it not be done, all on board might be blown to destruction. It
was a work of awful danger, for a spark might fly in before the powder
was destroyed, and produce the dreaded catastrophe. He gave the
necessary orders, and then devoted himself to other endeavours to save
the lives of some of those on board. That all could be saved, he knew
was impossible.
For some time longer, efforts were made to clear the fireship, and while
some of the crew were thus employed, others, under the captain's
superintendence, were endeavouring to form a raft, but at length the
flames seemed resolved to claim their victim. And now a scene of the
wildest confusion ensued. Many who had hitherto been exerting
themselves manfully abandoned all hope; some threw themselves overboard,
others rushed below to the spirit-store, hoping to reach it before the
fire had gained possession of the hold. Some rushed aft, imploring the
captain to save them, and shouting loudly for boats to come to their
assistance. No one among that multitude of rough men stood so calm and
resigned as Mrs Armytage and her daughter. Donna Julia was scarcely
less so; but her hands were clasped firmly, and every now and then she
moved a few paces with rapid steps up and down the deck, regardless of
the sparks which fell around her. Edda stood motionless, with her head
turned away from the flames, and her eye ranging with undefined hope
seaward, over the water.
"There are boats coming!--boats! boats!" was the cry.
A shout was raised by the remainder of the crew clustered on the
quarter-deck.
"Lieutenant Gerardin and our comrades have arrived."
The crew began to rush to the sides to throw themselves into the boats,
but a warning cry was raised in English, "Keep back, or we pull away!"
One boat, however, dashed alongside. Ropes were hove to the people in
her by the captain and others, and an officer climbed up on board, and
instead of Alfonse Gerardin, whom she expected, Edda beheld, to her
unspeakable joy, Ronald Morton. The bright glare revealed her to him.
He did not look to see who else was there. He knew her in a moment. He
asked not how she came there, but clasping her in his arms, he carried
her to the side of the vessel.
"Oh, Ronald, my mother!" she exclaimed.
Several persons had followed him.
"I'll look after her, miss," said Job Truefitt, taking up Mrs Armytage,
with as much ease as if she had been a child, and accompanying his
chief. An officer--it was Glover--who had got on board from one of the
other boats, seeing Donna Julia, without a word, lifting her in his
arms, carried her to the ship's side. With the assistance of Pedro
Alvarez they were lowered safely into the boats. Many of the seamen
were then about to leap in, but the captain drove them back with his
sword.
"Shame on you! there are old men and a priest to be first placed in
safety," he shouted. "Help them first, and then think about
yourselves."
Even at that awful moment the men obeyed. The marquis and the priest
were lowered down, and Colonel Armytage followed. As Pedro Alvarez was
helping him down the side he said in a low voice, "Keep an eye on old
Tacon, he is even now meditating how he may escape. I will lower him
down to you."
The captain then caught hold of Tacon, and without much ceremony sent
him down after the rest.
Ronald's boat was now full enough, and he ordered the men to shove off
and lie on their oars, while the other boats took off the remainder of
the crew.
A considerable number of the Frenchmen had been taken off the burning
ship, when Ronald saw the brave captain standing by himself, he having
refused to quit her till his men were in safety.
"It were a pity so brave a fellow should be lost," said Ronald.
"Oh, do--do save him!" cried Edda, who heard the remark. "He is kind
and good as well as brave."
This was enough; he once more steered the boat towards the burning ship.
Just then a burning spar fell from aloft. It appeared to strike him,
for he disappeared. A groan escaped all who saw the accident.
"He may not be killed though, sir," said Job Truefitt. "If I may, I'll
look for him."
Ronald gave him leave. There were numbers of ropes hanging over the
frigate's quarter. Job swarmed up by one of them, and directly after
appeared with the captain, about whose body he had secured a rope. He
lowered him down into the boat, and followed immediately. Still numbers
of the crew remained. Many who had gone below hearing that there were
boats alongside, came up with the hopes of escaping. When the already
overloaded boats pulled away their rage and despair knew no bounds.
They were seen standing on the hammock-nettings, or in the mizzen
rigging, shaking their fists and uttering the most dreadful imprecations
on the heads of those whom they considered were deserting them. As it
was, the boats were so full that not another person could have been
received on board with safety.
Morton gave the orders for the boats to pull back to the "Scorpion." It
was heavy work, for there was a strong wind and a heavy sea; but the
crews encouraging each other cheerfully pulled on.
What joy filled Morton's heart at having been the means of preserving
Edda's life and that of her father and mother! He did not press her to
say much; but a few words explained how they came to be on board the
French frigate.
Her feelings were not dissimilar to his. She was with him again, and
she had no fear for the future.
Pedro Alvarez, too, was perfectly satisfied with having been taken
prisoner, when he found from Colonel Armytage who was his captor. "The
very man I wished to meet," he said to himself. "He will tell me where
his father is to be found, and Rolf Morton is an important witness in
proving the claim of my poor Hernan. Where can he be though? Probably
he had gone with the boats to the assistance of some of the other ships,
and was not aware of our danger."
Just before daylight the boats reached the "Scorpion." The ladies were
carried below to obtain that rest they so much required, and Ronald
accommodated the rest of the party as well as he could.
Pedro Alvarez at once went up to him and claimed his acquaintance. "I
wish to tell you of circumstances with which it is important you should
be acquainted without delay," he said. "I know that you have every
reason to be interested in Donna Hilda Escalante, known as the Lady of
Lunnasting."
Ronald was all attention. He knew how really interested Mrs Armytage
was in all concerning her unhappy sister, while he was most anxious to
show his gratitude by serving her.
Pedro Alvarez then explained who he himself was, and told his astonished
hearer that the pirate Tacon, whom he had on board, was the very man who
had carried off Hilda's child, which child had been rescued and brought
up by him.
"Then the young officer whom I have so often and so unexpectedly met,
and who appears to have such bitter animosity towards me, is no other
than Hernan Escalante, the long-lost son of my kind patroness Donna
Hilda?" exclaimed Ronald.
"Such is the case," said Pedro Alvarez. "He has fallen in love with his
fair cousin, and he believes that you are his rival. He has another
reason for disliking you, but of that by-and-by. I believe that I can
do you a service, and certainly you can do me a considerable one. You
owe me a good turn, let me tell you; for in consequence of having
assisted you to escape, I was obliged to take command of a privateer,
bound for the East Indies, and to make my escape from France. I was
wandering about in those seas for many years; but at length, having some
friends in power, I was reinstated in the French navy. However, my
heart has never been estranged from Spain. She is at peace with
England; and as I now hope to see the great object of my existence
accomplished--the son of my old captain established in his rights--I
purpose throwing off my allegiance to France, and becoming once more a
Spaniard. I have told you all this, at a moment so unfitting, because I
am anxious that you should endeavour to prevent any of the persons who
were on board my frigate from escaping. Tacon will certainly make the
attempt. He does not know of what crimes he may be found guilty, and
instinctively will do what he can to be at liberty."
In a few words the worthy Pedro also told Ronald who the marquis and the
old priest were, and he undertook to do his best to keep a watch on them
till they had given the evidence required to establish young Hernan in
his rights.
"Believe me," he added, "I wish him no ill, and I would gladly make any
sacrifice to see him restored to his mother and the possessor of his
paternal inheritance. As to the marquis, I am not surprised at what you
tell me; I never liked him when we had him on board the `Imperious,'
while the priest always puzzled me. Tacon showed himself to be a most
perfect rogue, and I suspect will give us no little trouble before we
can get the required truth out of him. However, as it can be proved
that he committed an act of piracy in attacking a Spanish vessel, I
shall take the liberty of putting him into irons, to prevent the chance
of his escaping."
Pedro Alvarez was well satisfied with the arrangements made by Morton,
while the miserable Tacon complained bitterly of the hard fate to which
he was doomed.
"Oh, the malice and cruelty of this world!" he exclaimed. "I no sooner
get my legs out of one pair of irons than I find them clapped into
another--wretched--ill-used man that I am! What have I done to deserve
such a lot?"
When daylight returned, the effect produced by the fireships became
apparent. The whole French fleet lay scattered about in every
direction. Some had disappeared altogether. They had either sunk or
effected their escape up the harbour, but the greater number lay hard
and fast on shore, some so much on the heel that a few shots from the
British ships would have knocked holes in their bottoms, and when the
tide rose have effectually prevented their again floating.
Soon after daybreak the gallant Lord Claymore, the soul and moving
spirit of the enterprise, signalised to the Admiral that the whole might
be destroyed. For a long time no notice of his signals was taken. At
length some vessels were sent to his assistance, but much valuable time
was lost, and several of the French ships, by throwing overboard their
stores and guns, floated, and got higher up the harbour.
When the British squadron did get into action, they performed their work
effectually, and four line-of-battle ships and a fifty-gun ship were
taken, two of which were at once destroyed. The other two were not set
on fire till night, when a panic seized the French crews, who believed
them to be more fire-ships, and then some again cut their cables, and
endeavoured to escape up the harbour, while one captain and his ship's
company abandoned their ship altogether. One man only was left on
board, who, by his bravery and presence of mind, prevented her from
becoming a prize to an English midshipman and his boat's crew. When the
boat pulled up, he hailed in a loud voice, ordering her to keep off, and
having a number of marines' muskets ready, he fired them one after the
other with such rapidity, that the midshipman of course fully believed
that a considerable part of the crew were still on board.
The next day some fresh fire-ships were fitted for the purpose of
destroying the enemy's ships on shore, which could not otherwise be got
at. The wind was, however, unfavourable, and the enterprise was
ultimately abandoned.
Ronald's own ship was not engaged in these operations, and he perhaps
was secretly not sorry to avoid the risk his passengers would have run
had she been so. He, however, accompanied Lord Claymore, and assisted
in capturing the line-of-battle ships and in removing the prisoners. He
made all the inquiries he could from the prisoners for Alfonse Gerardin,
but not a word could he hear of him, and he began to fear that he must
have been killed.
"Poor Hernan!" he said to himself; "it will be sad if such is your fate
at the very moment that there is a prospect of your being restored to
your name and station."
Directly after this Lord Claymore returned to England, and the
"Scorpion" was also ordered home.
Although most of the prisoners taken from the burning frigate were
removed, on Morton's application Pedro Alvarez was allowed to remain on
board the corvette. He kept likewise that worthy, Tacon, as he felt
sure that if he did not he should never seen him again. Colonel
Armytage behaved much more courteously to Ronald than he had formerly
done, but still there was more stiffness in his manner than was
pleasant; and in his presence his wife and daughter appeared restrained
and uneasy, as if he had laid injunctions on them which they would
gladly have broken through.
The day after the marquis got on board he was seized with a severe
illness, brought on by the anxiety and alarm which he had experienced.
The surgeon pronounced it to be very dangerous. Glover had given up his
cabin to him, and now assisted poor Donna Julia in tending him, which he
did with the greatest devotion.
The "Scorpion" had a quick passage to Plymouth, where Colonel Armytage
and his family went on shore.
Edda's last words to Ronald were, "We must live in hope. My father may
compel me to remain single, as I will not marry in opposition to his
wishes; but at the same time I will marry no one but you."
What more could a lover wisely desire?
"Hope has borne me up hitherto. It will, I trust, continue to sustain
me," answered Ronald, as, having escorted her and her parents on shore,
he was compelled to return on board.
The marquis continued too ill to be moved, and Father Mendez claimed the
right, as his confessor, of remaining with him. To this Morton had no
objection, especially as the priest interfered with no one, and made
himself a very agreeable companion. Ronald was doubting how to dispose
of Pedro Alvarez, for whom he had begun to feel much regard. He was
very unwilling to send him on shore, where he would have been committed
to prison. While he was thus uncertain how to act, he received orders
to fill up with provisions and stores, and proceed to the north seas for
a summer cruise. For this he was not sorry, for though he would have
preferred being more actively engaged in the Channel, it gave him the
prospect of visiting Shetland. He had written to his father as soon as
he reached England, and told him everything that occurred. It would now
be impossible for him to know what steps he might think fit to take till
he could meet him in Shetland. He thought over the matter with regard
to Pedro Alvarez, and thinking it probable that he would not be inquired
for, he offered to allow him to remain on board as his guest, on
receiving his parole that he would not escape. This he of course at
once gave, as he was himself very anxious to visit Shetland, that he
might communicate with Sir Marcus Wardhill and Hilda, in order to
arrange the proofs necessary for Hernan to establish his claims.
The marquis, as he lay on his sick bed, little dreamed of the probable
result of his plots and contrivances, and of the reverse of fortune
preparing for him.
Pedro Alvarez had clearly explained all his plans to Ronald.
"I will, my friend, help you to the utmost to do justice to the wronged;
and scarcely any event will give me greater satisfaction than seeing
Donna Hilda Escalante recover her son," said Morton; "but I fear that by
so doing I shall make a mortal enemy of Colonel Armytage, who would
otherwise succeed to the Lunnasting property; and I shall deprive his
daughter of the fortune which would fall to her."
Pedro Alvarez looked at him hard.
"Should Hernan Escalante ever succeed to the Lunnasting property, I can
answer for it that Miss Armytage will not be the sufferer," he answered.
The remark shot a pang through Ronald's heart. "Should Hernan become
owner of Lunnasting, and a Spanish marquis, what pressure will Colonel
Armytage bring to bear to compel Edda to break her promises to me, and
to unite herself to him. It was of that the Spaniard was thinking. But
no; I have heard and read of the falsehood and faithlessness of women,
but I will not believe that Edda Armytage could by any possibility be
guilty of such treachery: the very thought is dishonouring to her. Did
I think that such a union would tend to her happiness, I would release
her from her promise; but I feel sure it would not. No, no! wealth and
rank would not bribe her. She loves me. What pride and happiness to
know that I am loved for myself, and myself alone! Should I be
deceived, life in future will indeed be a blank."