The Portugal fleet, which the little English squadron was now rapidly
approaching, looked formidable indeed, numbering as it did four times as
many tall ships as the latter, but not a heart among the stout men who
formed the crew of the Red Dragon, the Serpent, or the Lion, the
Sunshine or Moonshine, quailed with the thoughts of combating against
odds so great.
Good Master Walker, the minister of the Lion, went round among the crew
as they stood at their quarters, reminding them that they were about to
fight for their sovereign, their country, their honour, and their
religion.
"And, dear lads," he added, "now is not the time to preach to you; but I
have taught you all faithfully the truth, and would beseech all who have
listened to remember and adhere by it."
The admiral had formed his line of battle, and, passing by each ship on
his way to form the van, hailed through his speaking-trumpet,
encouraging the crews to fight bravely for St. George and merry England,
and promising them, if they gained the victory, the rich freights of all
the ships they could capture. It was a bold feat of the gallant admiral
thus to sail into the very midst of his foes, who he knew must surround
him.
The Portugals were formed, as has been said, in a semicircle, with the
concave side of their line turned toward the English, so that they might
quickly overlap them--in a land fight an important point to gain, but at
sea of slight advantage. The English were formed as a wedge; the Red
Dragon led, the Serpent following, then came the two pinnaces, the Lion
and Lion's Whelp bringing up the rear.
As the hostile fleets drew near, drums began to beat and trumpets to
bray forth their discordant sounds, when, with a loud crashing roar, the
artillery on both sides opened. The great guns sent forth their round
shots, and the culverins, sakers, falconets, and murtherers their
death-dealing showers of iron and lead, causing havoc and destruction
wherever they fell. Ill pleased were the Portugals with this
proceeding. Numbers were falling on board every ship. In vain they
called on their saints to improve their aim and strengthen their
powder--the shot seemed to have no effect on the heretical Englishmen--
the saints paid them no attention. They had found a Tartar, and
surrounded him, but were as disagreeably placed as if they had been
dancing round an exploding magazine. Bravely plied the gallant English
their guns. As long as any one of them had legs to stand on or arms to
work with he refused to desert his quarters. If one stopped for a
moment from working his gun, it was to help a messmate bind a
handkerchief round a wounded limb, or to tie one round his own leg or
side. Officers and men vied with each other as to who should perform
deeds most worthy of fame. The Portugals, on the contrary, though their
trumpets brayed forth far louder than those of their foes, forgetful of
their ancient renown, hastened below the instant they were wounded,
however slight their hurts, crying out for the medico to come and help
them; and some, when the English shots rattled on board, were seen to
run away from their guns, even though unwounded. Still, numbers in so
close a fight gave a great advantage to the Portugals.
The admiral's ship, the Red Dragon, especially was hard pressed, the
enemy seeming resolved to destroy her first, hoping thus to gain an easy
victory over the rest. But the brave Lancaster was not a man to be
daunted. As fresh foes pressed around him he kept shouting to his
crew--
"The more the merrier, lads! the more the merrier! We've pills enough
on board to dose them all till they'll wish they'd come to some other
doctor for their physic."
Captain Wood, too, was scarcely less hard pressed. He had sent the
Lion's Whelp ahead to the support of the Sunshine and Moonshine, which
seemed in danger of being altogether overwhelmed by the huge ships of
the enemy which clustered around them, and thus the stout Lion had to
encounter a whole host of foes by herself.
"Come one, come all!" shouted Captain Wood. "Brave lads, we are ready
for them!"
"Ay, ay! one and all!" echoed Antony Waymouth. "Hurrah for merry
England! Give it them, lads! A few more doses like that and they'll
cry peccavi and strike their flags."
"Peccavimus you should have said," remarked Raymond, whom Waymouth was
passing as he hurried from gun to gun to assure himself that all were
being fought to the best advantage.
"Ay, marry, not one, but fifty, will sing that song to-day, coz," said
Antony, laughing.
In truth, even in the heat of battle both officers and men indulged
themselves in cutting jokes whenever an occasion occurred. Not,
however, that the fight was any joking matter, for never in those seas
had a more desperate one taken place. The brave men on board the Lion
were falling thickly, some to rise no more, others to be carried below
and placed in the hands of the surgeon, and to these Master Walker was
rendering all the assistance in his power, and affording spiritual
counsel and consolation at the same time. It was a dark, close place
down in the depths of the ship, dimly lighted by two lanterns overhead,
with a table in the centre and hammocks slung on either side, already
occupied by wounded men. Others lay on the deck, beneath, and one poor
fellow was on the table, the surgeon and his assistants standing over
him examining a dreadfully shattered limb. Master Walker was holding
his hand and giving him some wine, of which, with vinegar and burnt
feathers, the place was redolent, although they could not overcome that
indescribable odour, dreadful and sickening, found wherever wounded men
are collected together.
"It must be done, lad," said Master Walker kindly. "There's no help for
it; the leg must come off to save thy life."
"What! lose my leg! never again to dance a hornpipe on Deerbrook Green
among the lassies of our village? No more to come the double-shuffle
and hear the merry clapping of the old people's hands? I'd as lief lose
my life! But let the surgeon do his worst," murmured the lad, who was
one of Waymouth's followers; "I'll bear it."
"Like a lion, I hope, lad," said the minister; "and pray to Heaven for
strength--that's where you'll get the most."
"Seldom I've ever gone there for any thing," answered the lad with a
sigh, and then, following the good minister, he endeavoured to utter a
prayer. It soon broke into groans, for the surgeons were operating on
his limb, and these, in spite of his resolution, were succeeded by
shrieks and cries, echoed by many of his poor shipmates who lay around
him in the same sad plight. Not even the roar of the cannon overhead
and the crashing of timbers, the shouts of the combatants and the rattle
of the small arms, and the braying of the trumpets and other
instruments, could altogether overpower those sad cries. Yet the sounds
on deck grew louder and louder.
"There must be terrible work, I fear me, going on, Ap Reece," observed
Master Walker to the Welsh surgeon, who had come round to feel the
patient's wrist; "we've had no one brought down for the last five
minutes."
The surgeon made no answer, but signed to the minister to pour some
cordial down the young seaman's throat. "More--more! or he'll slip
through our fingers," he whispered. The minister obeyed. The lad
opened his eyes, and turning them towards him with an expression of
gratitude, gasped out--
"Tell mother I've not forgotten the--"
A convulsive shudder passed over his frame, the blood started from
beyond the tourniquet, and before the assistants could replace it the
youth was a corpse.
"Peace be with him," said the minister solemnly, as the body was quickly
removed to give place to another yet breathing victim of battle. Such
is one of the many dark sides to the pictures of warfare. If this alone
were to be seen, few would be eager for the combat.
"No more coming," once more observed the minister. "Either we must be
hard pressed indeed, or have put the Portugals to flight."
"I fear me much the former," said Ap Reece. "I'd lief take a sword and
go help our brave fellows. If the foe gain the day, they'll not leave
one of us alive to tell the tale. What say you, Master Walker? will you
come?"
"Nay, Ap Reece, abide where you are. Every man at his proper work--you
tending the hurt, I speaking the truth to the salvation of their souls.
Thus should we be found even were the end of the world approaching."
The high-spirited Welshman returned to his post, and though he had no
more legs and arms to cut off, there was ample work for his skill. The
dreadful uproar continued. It was evident that some of the enemy's
ships had got alongside, and that the Lion's crew were engaged in
repelling the Portugals who were attempting to board. Who was gaining
the day it was impossible to say. It was a time truly of anxious
suspense. Ap Reece could at length endure it no longer.
"If you go not on deck to learn how it fares with our men, Master
Walker, I must go myself," he exclaimed; and, seeing that the minister
did not move, he seized a sword which had been brought below by a
wounded man, and sprang up the ladder. The chaplain looked hesitatingly
in the same direction.
"No, no; my duty is with the suffering and dying, though I'd lief strike
a blow as in days of yore for our reformed faith and merry England,"
said he to himself, and again turned to attend to a sorely wounded man
by whose side he had been sitting.
Ap Reece soon gained the deck; he had been in many a fight, but never in
a more desperate one. The Lion was closely surrounded by a forest of
masts, with shattered spars, and burning sails, and severed ropes and
blocks swinging to and fro, and splinters rattling from aloft, while
round shots and bullets were flying thickly about, and from every side
the loud clashing of steel showed that the combatants were striving hand
to hand. The Portugals were attempting to board on every side of the
Lion, but no sooner did they reach her deck than they were driven back
with loss, and often followed on board their own ships. A new combatant
had just come up on the Lion's quarter, and was pouring his crew on
board. Waymouth caught sight of what was occurring, and with a handful
of men sprang to repel the boarders. Hard pressed by the leader of the
Portugals, he was well-nigh being driven back at the moment Ap Reece
reached the deck. The surgeon saw at a glance where his services would
be of most use, and shouting at the top of his voice a Welsh war-cry, he
rushed to the lieutenant's assistance. Down before his sturdy blade
went foe after foe till he reached Waymouth's side.
"A rescue! a rescue!" he shouted, and cleaving to the chin the head of
one of the lieutenant's many assailants, the rest sprang hastily back,
some into their own vessel, and some, missing their footing, overboard.
"On, on!" shouted Waymouth. "On, on, and the enemy's ours!" cried Ap
Reece; and following the retreating boarders they drove them across the
deck of their ship, cutting down many, till the remainder cried out for
quarter, when their flag was hauled down and the capture was complete.
"We have more prizes to make before the day is over, lads," cried
Waymouth, and at that instant another large Portugal ship driving
against the prize, he, with the brave Ap Reece and a number of
followers, threw himself on her deck. So fierce was this onslaught that
the enemy did not stand a moment, but tumbling below one over the other,
or in their fright jumping overboard, or casting down their weapons,
they allowed speedy possession to be taken of their ship. Waymouth and
his companions then lashed the two prizes together, and not without
difficulty regained the Lion, on the other side of which more of the
enemy were congregated. Of one Captain Wood had taken possession.
Waymouth and Ap Reece now sprang on board another about midships, when,
dividing their forces, one swept forward and the other aft, driving
their loudly vociferating foes before them till the Portugal's flag was
hauled down.
"Hurrah! hurrah! my brave boys," shouted Waymouth. "Four prizes in the
Lion's maw--the fattest in all the fleet, too, I have a notion--one
more--yonder she comes. Strike fast, and strike home."
Thus shouting, he seized the helm of the prize, and steered her so as to
fall foul of yet another big Portugal ship.
"Shall we once more tempt fortune?" cried Waymouth to the fighting
surgeon. "What say you, Ap Reece? There must be ducats not a few
aboard our tall friend here."
"But one answer to that question. On, on!" exclaimed the Welshman.
And no sooner did the sides of the two ships grind together than
Waymouth lashed them by the shrouds, and then sprang on board the
new-comer. She was full of men who showed every intention to defend
her; but undaunted by numbers, the Englishmen threw themselves among
them, with their sharp swords flashing rapidly, and soon hewed a lane
for themselves from one side to the other. They had begun to cut a
second when the Portugals, dreading the result, hauled down their own
flag, and yielded. By this time such of the Portugal ships as were in a
condition to escape were making the best of their way under all sail to
the northward, leaving the rest in the hands of the English, who were in
no condition to follow. The victors had indeed suffered severely,
though it was some time before Waymouth, and those with him, could
ascertain the true state of affairs. At length he brought his
last-captured prize up to the Lion, where the rest were collected, and
having secured his prisoners, and left a few men on board to watch them,
he returned to his own ship. The Lion with her torn sails, shattered
spars, and ropes hanging in disordered festoons, looked any thing but
like a victor, yet she was in a better plight than her consorts. Far
ahead lay the admiral with three of the enemy's ships he had captured,
but his masts were tottering, and it was evident that he had suffered
severely in the fight. The Serpent, though she had taken a couple of
prizes, was even in a worse condition, while of the three smaller ships
the poor little Moonshine had disappeared altogether, the Lion's Whelp
lay a dismasted hulk on the waters, and the Sunshine appeared in a
sinking condition. Three prizes, proofs of their prowess, lay near
them, and it was to be hoped that some of the crew of the Moonshine had
found safety on board them.
And now the surgeon, Ap Reece, his fiery blood beginning to cool,
bethought him that he ought to go and look after his patients below,
while Waymouth began to make inquiries as to who had been killed and who
wounded among his shipmates. His grief was sincere when he heard of his
young follower's death. He looked round, also, anxiously for Raymond.
He was nowhere to be seen. Was he on board any of the prizes? No; such
and such officers had charge of them. He sprang below. Master Walker
could give him no tidings of his friend. He inquired eagerly of all the
surviving officers. It was remembered that he had headed a party who
had repulsed the boarders from a large Portugal ship, which had
afterwards sheered off. Several men were missing who could not be
accounted for, and it was supposed possible that he, with them, had gone
on board the enemy, and that they had been carried off as prisoners.
Waymouth hoped such might be the case, as it was the only chance of
again seeing his friend, but, attached though he was to him, he had no
time just then to mourn his loss.
Fearful had been the slaughter on board the Lion and the injuries she
had received, while so many of her people had been taken off to man the
prizes that not enough remained to repair the damages which she had
received. The energies of every one on board unwounded were taxed to
the utmost, nor could assistance be expected from the other ships, which
had enough to do to look after their own prizes. The ships now closed
up with each other, and the Lion was able to hail the admiral's ship.
"Sad news--sad news," was the answer. "Captain Lancaster was slain at
the beginning of the fight, and though we have gained the victory we
have bought it with the loss of half our men."
The loss on board the Serpent was also very great, though she had
suffered less than the admiral's ship; but the Lion's Whelp and the
Sunshine had lost, in proportion to their crews, as many men as the
latter; while of the unfortunate Moonshine scarcely a third had escaped
on board the prizes: all her wounded had gone down in her. The captain
of the Serpent was also desperately wounded, and Captain Wood sent
Waymouth on board to see him and receive his orders, as he was now chief
in command. Waymouth, finding his way among the dying and wounded,
reached the cockpit where Captain Nicholas Parker lay. He was groaning
with anguish, which the surgeon, who stood by his side, was endeavouring
to alleviate with a cordial. In vain. The groans continued, but grew
fainter. The surgeon felt the captain's pulse. Waymouth stepped up.
"I have come to receive orders from the admiral, for such he now is,
since Captain Lancaster has been killed," he said.
"Our brave captain will never give orders more," answered the surgeon
with much feeling. "Your captain, Master Waymouth, will be admiral ere
many minutes are over. We've gained victory at heavy cost."
Before Waymouth left the ship Captain Parker had breathed his last, and
he pulled hastily back to announce the sad event to Captain Wood, who
had now become commander-in-chief, but seemed but little elated with the
circumstance. Master Walker was pacing the deck to recover from the
effects of the close atmosphere he had endured below, and the harrowing
scenes he had witnessed.
"This is what men call glory, and what young men sigh after and long to
engage in," he observed, while Waymouth stood quiet for a few seconds
discussing some food which had been brought to him, for he had no time
to go below. "Look there; see what man's avarice and rage and folly
have brought about in a few short hours."
He pointed with a melancholy glance at a number of slain arranged around
the mainmast, and to several wounded who had been mercifully brought on
deck to breathe a purer atmosphere than that to be found below; then to
the Lion's shattered masts and bulwarks; and, lastly, moving his hand
round to their almost dismasted, and yet more shattered, consorts and
prizes, from one of which, taken by the Serpent, at that instant flames
were seen to burst forth. The Lion had but one boat which could float,
and into her an officer and crew jumped and pulled away to the
assistance of the burning vessel, the men being urged to speed, not
impossibly, in the hope of obtaining some of the plunder on board.
The Serpent had sent off two of her boats, and the Red Dragon another,
but the Portugals either would not go to the assistance of their
countrymen or their boats were knocked to pieces, or the officers in
charge of the prizes would not let them go, for no assistance was sent,
though several were near the burning vessel. The boats pulled rapidly
through the water; and good cause they had so to do, for the flames rose
higher and higher, bursting out from all the ports from stem to stern
till there appeared not a spot on which a human being could stand
unscorched by the fire. Busily as all on board the Lion were employed,
they stopped to gaze on the scene. Even amid the flames they could see
the unhappy men rushing here and there, seeking in vain for safety: some
were casting themselves into the sea; others, unable probably to swim,
waited anxiously for the boats. In vain! in vain! Ere the boats
reached them the burning masts and spars rose gradually up from the
hull--up, up, they shot into the air; the deck followed, the flames
increasing with tenfold fury, a loud report announcing that the magazine
had exploded, and that the rich argosy, with all still living on board,
had been hurried to destruction. Those in the boats pulled back,
endeavouring to avoid the burning fragments of spars and wreck which
came hissing in a thick shower around them. Then recollecting that some
might yet be floating near where the wreck had been, like true British
tars they again dashed on, in the hope of rescuing them. So rapidly had
the catastrophe occurred after the first outbreak of the fire, that
Waymouth had not moved from the minister's side.
"There, there--!" continued the latter, "surely such work as that is the
invention of Satan--that roaring lion who is ever going about seeking
whom he may devour. What mad folly in men thus to yield to him, and to
destroy each other at his will and beck!"
"What you say, Master Walker, may be true--all very true; but we are in
for it, and must carry through our enterprise, or perish," exclaimed
Waymouth, with rather more impatience than he was wont to address the
minister. "We have taken prizes enough to make every man of us wealthy
for the rest of our lives; but our loss of brave fellows has been heavy,
I grant you, and I'd give up every ducat that falls to my share for the
sake of knowing what has become of Edward Raymond, and all the gold I
may ever possess to get him back safe aboard here."
"He was a worthy gentleman, and I pray that he may still be reckoned
among the living," said the chaplain, and he was about to commence an
exhortation to his young friend when Waymouth was called away to attend
to one of the numberless duties which, in consequence of the loss of
many of his messmates, now fell to his lot.
As soon as shot-holes had been plugged, the wounded masts and spars
strengthened, the shrouds set up, and damaged rigging repaired, an
examination of the prizes commenced. The wealth they contained
surpassed even the expectation of the adventurers. Besides gold and
silver in bars, there were cases of diamonds and pearls and other
precious stones, and casks and cases of rich spices, and strange and
rich silks, and a variety of other articles from India. In truth, there
appeared to be more than enough to enrich even the commonest seaman of
the squadron, although by far the largest share would go to the
officers.
Fortunately, the weather remained calm, or more of the ships would have
gone to the bottom. Every one exerted himself to the utmost, and good
reason he had so to do, for a storm might arise, or the enemy return
with greater force, and all the treasure gained by so much toil and
bloodshed might be lost.
Before the day was over, the signal was made from the Serpent that
Captain Parker had ceased to breathe. Captain Wood therefore assumed
the chief command, and ordered the Red Dragon to come near that he might
go on board her, leaving Waymouth in command of the Lion.
A consultation of all the chief officers was now held, and it was
determined to abandon and destroy the Sunshine and Lion's Whelp, to
shift their crews on board the two largest and least injured of the
Portugal ships, to select a third on board which to put all the
prisoners, and to burn the remainder. The plan was at once put into
execution, and the wealth of all her prizes was carried on board the
Lion. Not, however, till two days had passed were the prizes
sufficiently gutted of their stores and provisions to be abandoned. A
short time before nightfall they were set on fire; and it was a sad
though a fine sight to see eight tall ships burning away together.
Master Walker again had reason to shake his head.
"Another example of man's folly," he exclaimed. "See yon beautiful
fabrics, on which so much thought, time, and labour was expended, being
destroyed in a few short minutes!"
"But you would not have us tow the useless hulls round the world, Master
Walker, would you?" asked Waymouth, with some little hastiness not to be
wondered at.
"No, Captain Waymouth, but I would that the hulls were not useless, and
still freighted with honest merchandise, that we and the Portugals were
at peace, as Christian men should be, and each pursuing our own course
as gentlemen adventurers for our own profit and advantage and that of
our respective countries. When I joined the expedition I understood
such was to be the case. We were to be armed to resist attack, as is
lawful--not to attack others, which is wrong. But all these doings of
blood and destruction have opened my eyes, and made me wish that I had
remained quiet at home, even though my stipend was small and precarious.
I love you right well, as you of a surety do know, Captain Waymouth,
and I tell you that no good can come of these doings."
"I see not the strength of your reasoning, Master Walker," said
Waymouth. "We all knew when we left Old England that we were embarking
in an adventure in which we should meet with hard blows as well as rich
prizes. We are in no wise worse than Drake, and see what honours have
been heaped on him."
"I say nothing against the powers that be; and her gracious majesty may
have had her reasons for honouring Sir Francis; but there are persons
who consider his expedition round the world as worthy only of a
sea-rover of old or of a downright pirate," observed the minister.
"Let be, let be, Master Walker," exclaimed Waymouth petulantly; "I can
brook more from you than from any man alive, but I have heard enough."
The minister was too wise to proceed, but he shook his head mournfully.
The prisoners were now all collected on board one ship. Among the wild
spirits found among the English crews some were not wanting who
suggested that they should be sent adrift without compass, guns, or
provisions; some even hinted that to bore holes in the ship's bottom
would be the surest way of disposing of them; others considered that it
would be wise to keep them as prisoners, and to insure their keeping
with the fleet they should only be furnished day by day with the
necessary provisions, and that two ships should be appointed especially
to watch them. More generous counsels, however, prevailed.
"No, no, by my halidom!" exclaimed Captain Wood; "Portugals though they
are, they have fought bravely, and like honest gentlemen shall be
treated. We'll give them arms to defend their lives, and provisions to
fill their insides, and a compass to find their way to some one of their
own ports or factories on the coast of the Indies, and all we'll demand
of them is that if they find any Englishmen in the same plight as they
are themselves that they treat them in the same way as they are treated
by us."
Waymouth warmly seconded the admiral's proposal; so did several of the
superior officers, though others grumbled at letting the prisoners off
without a ransom, or trusting to their honour to return the favour they
were to receive.
Away sailed the Portugal ship with all the prisoners on board; not,
however, without Waymouth having extracted a promise from all the
officers to make inquiries for his friend Raymond, and to let him know,
if alive, where he was to be found. Waymouth hoped that among them some
at least would do their utmost to redeem their promise.
Once more the English fleet was sailing proudly over the seas, but sadly
diminished in the number of their men. The wealth collected seemed
prodigious in the eyes of the crews, and little short of that obtained
by Drake of the Spaniards. Still their success only made them greedy
for more, and the seamen especially expressed their aversion to the
trading part of the enterprise, and loudly proclaimed their desire to
cruise against any enemy to be found--Dutch, if Portugals could not be
found, or Spaniards if they could be fallen in with. Waymouth,
especially, found that he had a very mutinously inclined crew to deal
with. Who was the chief instigator he determined to discover, in the
hope that by punishing him he might bring the rest under better
discipline.
The officer next in command to him was Miles Carlingford, an honest,
straight-forward seaman, on whom he knew that he could depend as well as
he could on Master Walker and the surgeon Ap Reece as to faithfulness;
but Master Walker was a non-combatant, and would be averse to any
stringent measures; and Ap Reece, from his hot-headed impetuosity, would
be likely to betray any counsel with which he was intrusted.
Captain Wood had brought two cabin-boys with him--or, as they would now
be called, midshipmen--and these he had left under Waymouth's especial
care. Poor fellows! early indeed were they to be initiated into the
stern realities of life. It would have been difficult to find a
stronger contrast than between the two lads, and yet they were great
friends. The eldest, Alfred Stanhope, was of high birth, of which he
was fully conscious. He was refined in appearance and manners, and was
light-hearted and gay in the extreme. He was never out of spirits or
out of humour, and was utterly indifferent to danger. His talents,
however, were not great, and the knowledge he did possess was very
superficial. His father was a spendthrift and a ruined man, and had
allowed him to come to sea in the hope of his being provided for in one
way or another.
His companion, Oliver Marston, was the son of a stout English yeoman to
whom Captain Wood's family was under some obligations, and, as a way of
repaying him, he had offered to take Oliver, one of ten sons, on an
adventure through which he would be certain to secure his fortune. The
lad, though he had never seen a ship except worked on tapestry, had no
objection to go to sea. He was a short, stout, strongly-built little
fellow, able to hold his own with all competitors. While poor Alfred
Stanhope had been nurtured in the lap of luxury, Oliver had been brought
up in the roughest style, and was therefore much better able than his
companion to buffet with the storms of life they were doomed to
encounter. He had much more sense and shrewdness in his round little
head than might have been supposed, while all about him was sterling
stuff of the toughest nature, except his heart, in one respect, and that
was as soft and gentle as that of a true sailor is said to be. Oliver
was a favourite with Waymouth, who, though he did not spoil him,
encouraged him to speak more openly to him than he allowed any one else
to do except Master Walker.
It was night. Waymouth was seated in his cabin. A lamp hung from the
beam above, the light of which fell on a chart he was anxiously
scanning. Unwonted cares oppressed even his buoyant spirit. His ship
had suffered much; he had a large amount of wealth on board; his crew
was much weakened, some were disaffected, and he was about to enter seas
difficult of navigation, and where typhoons might be expected. He
mourned, too, his friend Raymond's loss, though he did not believe that
he was dead, but that he had been carried off a prisoner by the enemy.
Still, how could he hear of him, and how rescue him if he was a
prisoner? He fell into a reverie. He was aroused by the sentry at the
announcement that an officer wished to see him.
"Let him come," was the answer; and Oliver Marston stood before him.
"What now, Oliver?" asked the captain.
"You know, Captain Waymouth, that I am not a tale-bearer; but I've just
heard some matters which I bethought me I ought to convey to you without
delay," answered Marston. "There's mutiny in the ship, sir, or what may
come to worse."
"Ah! how come you to know that, boy?" asked the captain anxiously, for
the announcement somewhat confirmed his own suspicions.
The youngster answered promptly--"It is my first watch, sir, and as I
had no fancy for turning in for a short time, I lay down for a snooze on
a chest outside the boatswain's cabin. I was afraid of oversleeping
myself, so quickly awoke, and was about to jump up, when I heard voices
near me. The words were spoken in an undertone, as if the speakers
desired not to be overheard. Who the speakers were, I am not certain;
they talked of the wealth that was on board, and how you and the other
captains would get the lion's share, but that if they acted with spirit
and stuck together they might have the whole of it."
"And you heard the whole of this, and were not dreaming, boy?"
"Every word, sir, and I was wide awake," answered Oliver.
"You have done well to come to me at once," said the captain. "Speak to
no one of what you have heard, and appear even to your messmates as if
all were going on right. To-morrow morning I will communicate with the
admiral, and we will soon have these would-be mutineers in limbo. Have
you no idea who were the speakers?"
"I like not, sir, to bring an accusation against any man without perfect
certainty, but to the best of my belief there were Peter Hagger, the
boatswain, and John Moss, his mate, among the chief speakers," answered
Oliver. "As to the rest I might be mistaken, but I think not of those
two. I recognised also Dick Soper's voice, and he is not likely to be
left out if such work is proposed."
"He'll swing ere long at the yard-arm, an' I mistake not; but enough
now, lad," said the captain. "Keep counsel and your eyes about you, and
we'll defeat the rebels. They'll attempt nothing while we are with the
admiral; they know him, and I thought they knew me too. Who has the
first watch?"
"Mr Carlingford, sir," said Marston.
"Tell him to keep close up with the admiral, as I want to speak him at
dawn," said Waymouth; "and call me should the weather give signs of
change. You have acted most commendably."
The lad took his leave well pleased with the praise bestowed on him by
his captain, and very indifferent to the danger to which he as well as
all the officers on board were exposed.
The young captain sat for some time meditating on the matter. He could
not tell how many of the crew might be engaged in the plot, and on what
support the conspirators depended. He might discover who were the
ringleaders, but find that the greater part of the crew sided with them.
Caution, courage, and decision would be required--he trusted he should
not be wanting in either of the three. The last few days had been a
time of unusual exertion and care. He required rest to restore his
well-nigh exhausted energies. Examining his fire-arms with more care
than usual, and placing his sword by his side ready for instant use,
though he firmly believed that no attempt would be made by the
mutineers, he threw himself on his bed. He had resolved to take the
Lion next morning under the guns of the Red Dragon, and having informed
Captain Wood of what he knew, call out the three men whose voices young
Marston recognised, and send them on board the flagship for punishment.
He soon, however, forgot his anxieties in a sound sleep. He was awoken
by the voice of Oliver Marston loudly calling him.
"What is it?" he asked, starting up with his sword grasped in his hand.