Harry Tryon in his new home had the sea constantly before his eyes.
Sometimes he saw it blue and laughing, and dotted over with the white
canvas of numerous vessels glistening in the sunshine. At other times
the stout ships were tossed by tempests, or doing battle with the
foaming waves. Often the boy longed for the life of a sailor, to go
forth over that broad unknown ocean in search of adventure; but the old
lady would not hear of it. It was the only wish in which she thwarted
him: she usually spoiled him, and gave him everything he asked for,
especially if he cried loud enough for it. But he was now getting too
old to cry for what he wanted, and he must take some other means to
obtain his wishes. Poor Harry! his nursery life had been a checkered
one; sometimes shut up by himself in a dark room, sometimes almost
starved and frightened to death; at others pampered, stuffed with rich
food, exhibited in the drawing-room as a prodigy, his vanity excited,
and allowed to do exactly as he listed. Perhaps one style of treatment
checked the bad effects of the other.
Lynderton stood on the bank of a small river. Harry had no difficulty
in obtaining a boat, in which he learned to row. Lady Tryon did not
know how he was employed, or she would probably have sent for him, and
kept him driving about in her musk-smelling carriage, which Harry hated.
As he grew older he managed to get trips in fishing vessels, on board
small traders which ran between the neighbouring ports, and sometimes he
got a trip on board a revenue cruiser--the old "Rose," well known on the
coast. There were not many yachts in those days; but two or three of
the people residing at Lynderton had small vessels, and Harry was always
a welcome guest on board them. His love for the sea was thus partially
gratified and fostered, and he became a first-rate hand in a boat or
yacht. Still he yearned for something else.
One day he was standing on the quay at the foot of the town, when a
stout sailor lad stopped near him, and putting out his hand exclaimed:
"Well, Master Harry! I did not know you at first: you are grown so.
You're looking out for a sail down the river, I'll warrant?"
"You are right, Jacob," answered Harry, shaking the proffered hand. "I
have not had a sniff of salt water for the last week. But where have
you been all this time?"
"I have been to sea, Master Harry--to foreign lands--and if you are so
minded I will help you to take a trip there, too."
"You have not been away long enough to go to any foreign lands that I
know of, except perhaps the coast of France or to Holland," observed
Harry.
"That's just where I have been, Master Harry, and if you like to come
down along the quay I will show you the craft I went in. She's not one
a seaman need be ashamed of, let me tell you."
Harry accompanied his friend. Jacob Tuttle had been one of Harry's
first companions in a boat, and he indeed taught him to row. As he was
six or eight years older than Harry, the latter looked at him with great
respect, and considered him an accomplished seaman. He was, indeed, a
good specimen of the British sailor of those days, brave, open-hearted,
and generous, but with the smallest possible amount of judgment or
discretion. Harry accompanied him along the bank of the river for some
distance.
"There! what do you think of her?" asked Jacob, pointing to a
wonderfully long, narrow lugger which lay alongside the wooden quay or
jetty. "She measures 120 feet from the tip of her bowsprit to the end
of her outrigger, and she sails like the wind. We pull forty oars, and
there is no revenue cutter can come near us, blow high or blow low."
The vessel at which Harry and his companion were looking was indeed a
beautiful craft. She had fore and aft cuddies for sleeping berths, and
was open amid-ships "for the stowage of 2,000 kegs of spirits," Jacob
whispered in Harry's ear. "Would you not like to take a trip in her,
Master Harry?"
Harry confessed that he should like it very much.
Lady Tryon was on the point of starting for London. Probably the "Saucy
Sally" would not sail for two or three days. He might make the trip and
be back again without anybody knowing anything about it. Tuttle would
introduce Harry to the skipper. He was a first-rate fellow, whether an
Englishman or a foreigner he could not tell, but his equal was not
easily to be found. It was a pleasure to be with him in a gale of wind,
and to hear him issue his orders. Captain Falwasser was his name. The
"Saucy Sally" carried fifty hands, officers and crew, all told, and had
guns too, but they were kept stowed away below, unless wanted.
"But, Harry, come on board."
Harry could not resist the temptation. He reflected little about the
rights of the thing, and even if he had, to say the truth, Captain
Falwasser's occupation was at that time not much condemned by public
opinion. He soon found himself visiting every part of the "Saucy
Sally," and being introduced to her daring skipper. Captain Falwasser
was a strongly-built man, but in other respects refined and gentlemanly
in appearance. The expression of his lips showed wonderful
determination, and those who looked at his eye felt that they were in
the presence of a man accustomed to command his fellows. His cheek was
pale and sunken, and there was on his features a settled expression of
melancholy. Harry was delighted with all he saw, and longed more than
ever to take a trip on board the lugger. Captain Falwasser, however,
did not seem inclined to indulge him in his wish. At last he had to go
on shore, and return home. A few days after this he saw the "Saucy
Sally" with her jovial crew, loudly cheering, while she dropped down the
river, the Custom House officers looking on.
"We'll catch them one of these days, in spite of all their cunning,"
observed one. "They think we don't know when they are coming back. We
will show them their mistake."
Harry kept thinking of the "Saucy Sally" and her bold skipper, and he
still entertained the hopes of some day making a trip in her. Two or
three weeks passed away, and once more she lay in Lynderton river, with
her empty hold looking as innocent as if she had been merely out for a
few hours' pleasure trip. There were reports of a large cargo having
been run somewhere on the Dorsetshire coast, not far from Yarmouth, but
of course the crew of the "Saucy Sally" knew nothing of the matter. A
body of yeomanry had met a large party of waggons, surrounded by two or
three hundred men, each with pistols in their holsters, and carbines in
their hands, proceeding northward; but the soldiers considered
discretion, in this case, the better part of valour, being very sure,
had they attempted to interfere with them, they would be cut down to a
man. It was shrewdly suspected that this cavalcade was conveying to a
place of safety the cargo landed from the "Saucy Sally." Harry very
naturally went down to have a look at the lugger. Jacob Tuttle told him
how sorry he had felt that he could not come the last trip.
"If you have a mind for it still, come on board the night before, and I
will stow you away. When we are fairly at sea, you can come out, and if
the skipper is angry I will stand the blame."
Harry managed to get away from Aylestone Hall, his grandmother being
still absent, and was, unseen by any one, stowed on board the "Saucy
Sally." It is possible that more than once, while shut up in the close
cuddy, he repented of his proposed exploit. However, he was in for it,
as the crew, most of them half-seas over, kept coming on board. The
next morning, if not as sober as judges, they were yet pretty well able
to handle the lugger, and with their usual exulting shouts they manned
their oars and pulled down the river. They were soon at sea, and
getting a slant of wind, the smuggler's enormous lug-sails were hoisted,
and away she stood towards the French coast. Jacob, according to
promise, released Harry. The skipper's sharp eye soon singled him out,
though he kept forward among the crew. He was summoned aft, and fully
expected a severe scolding.
"What made you come with us, my boy?" asked Captain Falwasser, in a kind
tone. "You are too young to run the dangers we have to go through. You
will have enough of them by-and-bye. And so Jacob Tuttle brought you,
did he? I will settle that business with him. You must be under my
charge till I land you again at Lynderton."
Jacob Tuttle not only got a severe scolding, but the captain threatened
to dismiss him as soon as they got back to England. Meantime the
appearance of the lugger was being changed. The crew, as they drew near
the French coast, dressed as Frenchmen, and pieces of painted canvas
were hung over the sides of the vessel, so that she no longer looked
like the trim, dashing craft she really was. The "Saucy Sally" dropped
her anchor close in with the coast, just as the shades of evening fell
over the ocean. A boat was lowered. Harry had been made to change his
dress like the rest. The skipper invited him to accompany him.
"Remember you are to be dumb," said Captain Falwasser. "If you keep
close to me no harm will come to you."
A light was shown on board the vessel, and was immediately answered by
another on shore. Soon afterwards a number of boats were heard
approaching. The captain exchanged a signal with one of them, and then
continued his course to the shore. After walking some distance they
reached a town. The captain paid several visits, and as he spoke
French, Harry could not make out what was said. The captain seemed
greatly surprised and shocked at some disastrous news he heard. He
transacted business with some people on whom he called, and Harry saw
him pay away the contents of a large bag of gold. He was more silent
than ever on his walk back to the beach. He sighed deeply. "Unhappy
France, unhappy France!" he said to himself; "what is to become of you?"
When they got on board the lugger again, she was deeply laden with kegs
and bales of goods. That instant her anchor was tripped, and sail being
made, she stood back towards the English coast. Daylight soon
afterwards broke. She made the land some time before dark, but waited
till she could not be seen from the shore before she ran in. Sharp eyes
kept looking out for the expected signal: it was made. She ran in till
her bows almost touched the sand. Fully three hundred people were
waiting on the beach; with wonderful rapidity her cargo was landed, and
each cask or bale being put on the broad shoulders of a stout fellow,
was carried away instantly up the cliff. Not a yard of silk, a bottle
of brandy, nor a pound of tobacco remained on board. Instantly the oars
were got out, and before daylight she was once more at the mouth of
Lynderton river.
"I have only one request to make," said the captain to Harry, "that you
will promise me faithfully not to tell to any one what you have seen.
You came on board the `Saucy Sally,' were away a couple of nights, and
were once again put safely on shore at Lynderton. That's all you may
tell, remember."
Harry gave his promise; he felt grateful to. Captain Falwasser for the
kind treatment he had received. Harry begged that Jacob Tuttle might be
forgiven. The captain replied he would consider the matter; but Jacob
did not seem inclined to trust to him, and soon afterwards entered on
board a man-of-war.
This was Harry's first adventure. He was somewhat disappointed in the
result. It was some time before he engaged in another.
There were a good many country houses scattered about in the
neighbourhood of Lynderton; and at most of them Harry, who was growing
into a remarkably fine-looking young man, had become a great favourite.
He danced well, could talk agreeably, and was always ready to make
himself useful. He was a welcome guest, especially at Stanmore Park,
the residence of Colonel Everard. The Colonel was one of the
representatives of the oldest and most influential families in that part
of the country. General Tryon had been an old friend of his, and he was
very glad when Lady Tryon acknowledged her grandson, and took him under
her protecting wing. Had the Colonel been a more acute observer than he
was, he might not have so readily congratulated the boy on his good
fortune. Colonel Everard had an only daughter, Lucy; and a niece,
Mabel, who resided with him. The latter was the daughter of his
brother, Captain Digby Everard, who was constantly at sea. When he came
on shore for a short period he took up his residence at Stanmore Park.
A maiden sister, always called Madam Everard, who superintended his
household, was the only other constant member of his family. Stanmore
Park was a fine old place of red brick, with spreading wings. A long
drive under an avenue of noble trees led up to the front of the house,
and looked out on a wide extent of park land. There was a beautiful
view of the sea from the windows on the opposite side. There was a
magnificent lawn of thick shrubberies, and lofty umbrageous trees, and
extensive lakes, across which were bits of woodland scenery, the
graceful trees of varied foliage being reflected in the calm water.
Altogether, Stanmore Park was a very delightful place. Harry, however,
although he was very fond of going there, liked the inhabitants even
more than the place itself. Madam Everard was a good kind woman who,
though advanced in life, had feelings almost as fresh as those of her
young nieces, who were pretty, attractive girls. Harry thought so, and
as he saw a good deal of them, he was well able to judge. His happiest
days were spent in their society; sometimes attending them on horseback,
sometimes fishing with them in the lake, sometimes rowing them in a boat
on the largest piece of water. Captain Everard had had a miniature
frigate placed on the lake; and Harry was present while it was being
fitted out and rigged, so that he learnt the name of every rope and sail
belonging to her. It was wonderful how much nautical knowledge he
gained on that occasion.