Two fine vessels lay in mid stream a little way below London, with sails
loosened, ready to take their departure. The wind was light, and they
were waiting for the turn of the tide. Many boats surrounded them, and
numerous visitors still thronged their decks. On board one of them was
William Mead and his family.
Wenlock Christison held Mary's hand as her father was about to lead her
to the side of the vessel, to descend into the boat.
"Thou wilt be supported, Wenlock, if thou dost look whence support can
alone be gained," said Mary; "and my father has promised that when thou
dost return he will no longer withhold me from thee. What more can I
say? Thou dost know my love, and I have faith in thee."
"Thanks, Mary, for those words," said Wenlock. "I trust I may do my
duty, and soon return to thee."
Thus the young Quaker and his betrothed parted. The other visitors
quitted the good ship _Amity_, and her consort the _John Sarah_, which
now, with sails sheeted home, slowly glided down the Thames. They made
but slight progress, however, as they had frequently to come to an
anchor before they altogether got clear of the river. They then
proceeded once more without interruption until they reached Plymouth
Sound. Here they took in more provisions. On board the _Amity_ also
there came a passenger, who announced himself as Master Jonas Ford, the
son of the factor of the Irish estates of Mr William Penn. He brought
a letter. He was a Quaker, his figure slight, his cheeks smooth. His
dress, his language, and manners were equally correct. Yet Wenlock did
not feel attracted towards him. Jonas Ford, however, seemed determined
to obtain his friendship, and from the first attached himself especially
to him.
"Hast ever crossed the ocean before, young sir?" said honest Richard
Dinan, captain of the _Amity_, addressing Wenlock. "You seem to have a
pair of sea legs of your own."
"Yea, verily, friend. I served on board a man-of-war, and saw no little
service," answered Wenlock.
"Then how didst thou quit it? It is an honest calling, to my mind,"
observed the captain.
"Why, by being blown up and left floating alone on the water. Verily I
thought that was a sufficient sign to me no longer to engage in carnal
warfare."
"Oh, ay, I see. You have joined friend Penn. Well, well, each man to
his taste. However, I guessed you had served at sea directly I saw you
walking the deck."
After this, Captain Dinan paid considerable attention to Wenlock,--much
more so, indeed, than he did to Jonas Ford. Altogether there were about
twenty passengers on board the _Amity_, with a crew of forty men. She
also carried guns, to be able to defend herself against Algerine rovers,
or West Indian pirates, of whom there were not a few roving those seas
at that time. Prince Rupert and his brother had made piracy somewhat
fashionable during the days of the Commonwealth, and there were not
wanting a few lawless spirits to follow their example.
For some time the voyage continued prosperous, though, as the wind was
light, the progress of the two emigrant ships was but slow. One day
Wenlock had gone forward, when a seaman, whose furrowed countenance,
thickly covered with scars and grey locks, showing the hard service he
had gone through during a long life, addressed him.
"I know your name, Master Christison," he said, "for I served under a
man who I think was your father. It was many years ago; but yet I
remember his looks and tone of voice, as you remind me of him. He saved
my life, and did more than save my life, for he prevented me from
becoming a hardened ruffian like many of my companions." On this the
old seaman ran on, and gave him many accounts of his father, to which
Wenlock listened with deep interest. "Well, sir," said the old man,
"whenever you have time to listen to a yarn, if I happen to be below,
just send for old Bill Rullock." Wenlock promised the old man that he
would not fail to come and talk to him, hoping indeed, as in duty bound,
to put the truth before him.
The two ships were now about ten days' sail from the American continent.
Wenlock was walking the deck with Captain Dinan, most of the other
passengers having gone to their cabins, for the sea was somewhat high,
and the wind had increased. Dark clouds also were rising in the
north-west, and driving rapidly across the sky.
"I do not altogether like the look of the weather," observed the
captain. "I see Captain Smith is shortening sail; we must do the same:"
and he forthwith summoned the crew to perform that operation.
Scarcely were the men off the yards, when the wind, as if suddenly let
loose, struck the ship with terrific fury, throwing her on her beam
ends. Many of the passengers cried out for fear, thinking that she was
going down. Among those who exhibited the greatest terror was Jonas
Ford, who wrung his hands, bitterly repenting that he had ever come to
sea. The captain issued his orders in a clear voice, which the crew
readily obeyed, Wenlock giving his assistance.
"Cut away the mizen mast," cried the captain.
A glittering axe soon descended on the stout mast, while the active crew
cleared the shrouds and all the other ropes, the mast falling clear of
the ship into the foaming ocean. Still she lay helpless in the trough
of the sea.
"The mainmast must go," cried the captain.
That too was cut away. The ship instantly felt the relief, and now
rising to an even keel, she flew before the furious gale. Those on
board had been so taken up with their own dangerous condition, that no
one thought of looking out for their consort.
When, however, the most imminent danger was over, Wenlock cast his eye
in the direction in which she had last been seen. In vain he looked out
on either side; no sail was visible. Others also now began to make
inquiries for the _John Sarah_. Many had friends on board. Too
probably, struck by the furious blast, she had gone down. Sad were the
forebodings of all as to her fate. Such might have been theirs. Human
nature is sadly selfish, and many were rather inclined to congratulate
themselves on their escape, than to mourn for the supposed fate of their
countrymen.
On, on flew the _Amity_ towards the south, far away from the Delaware,
from the land to which she was bound. The dark foam-crested seas rose
up on every side, hissing and roaring, and threatening to overwhelm her.
Still the brave captain kept up his courage, and endeavoured to keep up
that of those on board.
"We must get jury-masts up," he said, "when the storm abates; and plying
to the north, endeavour to regain the ground we have lost."
"Verily we had a fierce gale, friend Christison," said Ford, coming up
to Wenlock when the weather once more moderated. "Didst not thou fear
greatly?"
"No," answered Wenlock; "though it seemed to me that the ship might
probably go down."
"Ah! truly, I felt very brave too," said Ford.
"You took an odd way of showing it," answered Wenlock, who had observed
the abject fear into which his companion had been thrown.
"Ah! yea, I might have somewhat trembled, but that was more for the
thought of others than for myself," said Ford. "And now tell me, when
dost thou think we shall arrive at our destination?"
"That is more than any one on board can say," said Wenlock; "but we must
do all that men can do, and leave the rest to Him who rules the sea!"
All hands were now engaged in getting the ship to rights. Scarcely
however had jury-masts been set up, than signs of another storm appeared
in the sky.
"I like not the look of the weather," observed the captain.
"Christison, your eyes are sharp; is that a sail away to the
north-east?"
"Yes, verily," answered Wenlock.
"Can it be our consort?"
"No; she would not appear in that quarter. She is a stranger, and seems
to be coming rapidly on towards us," observed Wenlock, after watching
her for little time. "A tall ship too, I suspect."
Captain Dinan had hoped before this to haul up to the wind, but the
increasing gale made this impossible. As, however, he was going out of
his course, he only carried as much sail as necessity required. The
stranger therefore came quickly up with the _Amity_. The captain now
began to eye her very narrowly.
"I like not her looks," he observed. "She is a war ship, and yet shows
no colours."
The captain asked his officers their opinion. They agreed with him.
Bill Rullock, who was a man of experience, was called aft.
"I have little doubt about it," he observed. "That craft's a pirate,
and we must keep clear of her if we would escape having to walk the
plank or getting our throats cut." Nearer and nearer drew the stranger.
"Rather than surrender we must fight to the last," observed the sturdy
captain. "Christison, Ford, which will you all do, gentlemen?" he
asked, addressing the passengers.
"Verily, I will go below and hide myself," said Ford. "It becometh not
one of my creed to engage in mortal combat."
"If you order me to work a gun, I will do so," answered Wenlock.
"Albeit peace is excellent and blessed, and warfare is accursed, yet I
cannot see that it would be my duty to allow others to fight for the
defence of my life which I will not defend myself; or, for lack of
fighting, to allow myself or those who look to men to protect them,--the
women and children on board,--to be destroyed by outlawed ruffians such
as are probably those on board yonder ship."