"What is it?" exclaimed the young captain of the Lion, as he sprang from
his bed, on which he had thrown himself without undressing. He did not
require the cabin-boy's answer, for by the way the ship was heeling over
he knew that it was blowing a heavy gale. "I bade you call me the
instant there were signs of a change of weather," he observed as he
hurried towards the cabin-door to gain the deck.
"The ship but this instant was struck by a squall, sir, and we are
shortening sail as fast as we can," said Marston, though the captain did
not stay to hear his last words.
The deck of the Lion appeared, as the captain reached it, to be a scene
of the greatest confusion. Showers of spray, torn up from the ocean by
the sudden squall, were thrown over her in dense masses. The wind
howled and whistled through the rigging, the sails were flapping loudly
in the gale--some torn from their bolt-ropes, others with the sheets let
go, which were lashing and slashing wildly and twisting into a thousand
knots. Huge blocks, too, were swinging to and fro, threatening the
seamen with destruction, while some of the spars wounded in the action
now gave way, and their fragments came thundering down on deck, sweeping
all before them. The sea roared, the thunder in crashing peals rattled
along the sky, and the forked lightning ran hissing in vivid flashes
from out of the dark clouds along the foaming waves, and played round
the ship. The officers were shouting to the men--many, with axes and
knives in their hands, rushing here and there at the risk of their lives
to cut clear the blocks and the wreck of the spars, without which it was
scarcely possible to go aloft to furl the remaining sails.
Waymouth at once saw that the only safe course to pursue was to put the
ship before the wind. As he issued the required orders he looked out
for the admiral's ship, but the signal lanterns at her stern were
nowhere to be seen. Mr Carlingford asserted that they were close to
them when the squall struck the ship; so did Stanhope, who did the duty
of a signal midshipman. The captain could only hope, therefore, that
the admiral had at once bore up when the hurricane struck his ship. Two
lights were still visible in the direction the other ships were supposed
to be, but at some distance, and the Lion was apparently fast leaving
them. Her crew had indeed enough to do to attend to themselves--their
own safety demanded all their energies. Waymouth's firm, commanding
voice soon called order out of chaos. The ship answered her helm, and,
getting before the wind once more, rose on an even keel, and flew
rushing on through the darkness. Sail after sail was taken in--the
loftier masts and spars had been carried away by the wind, and were
mostly cut clear of the ship. The foretopmast had escaped being hit in
the action, and had stood. The hurricane was increasing in power,
rolling up the ocean into huge seas; higher and higher they grew, their
crests curling masses of foam, following eagerly astern as wild beasts
in pursuit of their flying prey. Often, while the forked lightning
played round the ship, had the captain gazed anxiously at the
foretopmast to ascertain how it stood the increasing pressure deprived
of its usual support. He scarcely hoped to save it. The hurricane gave
no signs of abating; on the contrary, it was increasing in strength.
"It must be done!" he exclaimed, seizing a sharp axe; "better choose our
time than let it fall when we are unprepared. Volunteers to cut away
the foretopmast!"
"I'll go," cried Miles Carlingford, and his words were echoed by several
others.
"No, Carlingford; you stay to take care of the ship. I can let no man
lead but myself in a task of such peril."
Marston and Stanhope both volunteered, but the captain ordered them to
remain with the lieutenant.
Followed by a daring crew, Waymouth sprang aloft, each man armed with
axe or knife. Some remained on deck to cut the ropes which led down
there. All had their tasks assigned them. The least important ropes
and stays were first severed.
"Remember, lads, wait till I give the word, and then cut with a will,"
cried the captain. As he stood on the top his axe was lifted in the
air. "Cut!" he shouted, as, gleaming in the lightning, it descended
with a force which half severed through the spar. Over it fell with a
crash into the sea, and, free from all ropes, floated clear of the ship.
The crew uttered a hearty cheer as the captain descended on deck after
the performance of this gallant and skilful act without the loss of a
man. None cheered more loudly than the boatswain and his two mates.
The ship drove on before the hurricane, but, relieved of so much top
hamper, she laboured far less than she had been doing. The storm had
not abated its fury; the mad waves followed fiercely after the ship, and
leaped up, foam-covered, on either side, threatening to fall down on her
decks and sweep everybody from off them, or to send the stout bark
herself to the bottom. The thunder roared loudly as at first, the
lightning flashed vividly as ever, and ran its zigzag course crackling
and hissing through the air, and along the summits of the waves, and
round the storm-driven ship, now seeming to dart along her spars, and
then to light with a lambent flame the summit of her masts.
The crew were collected on deck ready for any work required of them,
sheltering themselves as best they could under the bulwarks for fear of
being washed away. Waymouth stood with his first lieutenant on the
aftercastle away from the crew. He told him of the conspiracy of which
he had gained information.
"What think you, Carlingford?" he added. "Shall we seize the villains
now, tax them with their intended crime, and call on all who are for
discipline and order to rally round us; or let them go on plotting till
they find a fit occasion to put their plots into execution? It were a
bold stroke at such a moment, and would be sure of success."
"No one would be found willing to differ from you now," answered the
lieutenant; "I doubt, therefore, that you would ascertain who are the
conspirators, and it would only give them a certain vantage-ground by
showing them that you doubt their honesty."
Waymouth yielded to this advice, and allowed the opportunity of seizing
the supposed mutineers to pass. He had no fear that they would make any
attempt to gain possession of the ship while the gale might last. In
spite of the danger in which his own ship was placed, he turned his
thoughts more than once to the rest of the squadron. What had become of
them? Were they still afloat, driven here and there before the
hurricane, or had they all met the fate from which the Lion herself had
so narrowly escaped, and foundered? He could not help dreading that the
latter might have been the case.
Hour after hour passed by, and the wind blew fiercely as at the
commencement of the storm. No fire could be lighted. Scarcely any one
had even tasted food, and the fierce spirits who had been before
inclined to mutiny must have been considerably tamed by the buffeting
and fasting they had been compelled to undergo.
"I've heard say that it's an ill wind that blows no one good," observed
Carlingford to his captain. "I doubt if the knaves who so notably were
proposing to take possession of the ship will be inclined to make the
attempt for some time to come."
"We will keep an eye on them, at all events," said Waymouth. "In the
present battered condition of our good ship, they will be too wise to
wish to run away with her, or all the labour of putting her to rights
would fall on their hands. Ah, no, the rogues! they will let us first
do the work for them, and then cut our throats. I have met before with
villains such as these, and know how to tackle them."
Although occasionally brave villains are found, as a rule ill-doers are
cowards; and the would-be mutineers on board the Lion were no exception
to the rule. The captain and his lieutenant noted those who on that
awful night showed most fear, and they proved to be the very men Marston
had mentioned. Even the boatswain, who was generally a bold fellow,
evidently shrank from the performance of any duty of especial danger,
and while the captain went aloft to cut away the topmast was not one of
those who had volunteered to accompany him, though under ordinary
circumstances it would have been his duty to perform the work.
Morning broke at length upon the wide waste of foam-covered heaving
waters, but in vain did the anxious officers of the Lion look around for
any of her consorts. She herself was labouring heavily. The well was
sounded. There were three feet of water in the hold; that was much in a
ship of the Lion's build. There must be a leak. The pumps were manned;
all hands must work spell and spell. Even then scarcely could the leak
be kept under. Those men who had shown the greatest courage during the
night laboured the hardest now; the conspirators worked with an air of
desperation.
When the water still gained on them, "Let's to the spirit-room, and die
jovial," cried one.
"Ay, ay, to the spirit-room; a last glass before we quit the world," was
echoed by several.
Deserting their stations, they rushed tumultuously to the hold. They
found three soldiers stationed there, with their muskets ready to fire.
Strange that the very men who were about to stupefy themselves with
liquor, and so to go out of the world, were afraid of dying by the hands
of their countrymen! Growling like cowed mastiffs they shrank back,
some returning to the deck, and others turning into their hammocks,
where they intended to remain while the ship sank.
But a few only behaved thus. The greater number, as true British seamen
always have done, remained at their posts to face the danger. Their
perseverance was rewarded. About noon the gale began to abate, the sea
to decrease. As the ship laboured less there was a hope that the leaks
might be got under, and the carpenters, after sounding, reported that
there was not more than the usual quantity of water in the well. The
news was received with loud cheers by the crew, but they soon found that
continued exertion would be necessary to keep the ship afloat. The
skulkers were accordingly routed out of their berths, and compelled to
take their turn at the pumps.
Waymouth well knew that idleness is the mother of many a crime, and he
determined that his crew should have no such excuse. As soon as the sea
became calm, there was ample work to employ all hands in repairing the
damages the ship had received in the battle and the storm.
"Any day we may meet an enemy, and the ship must be in a state to fight
him, lads," the captain was continually remarking, especially when he
saw the men slacken at their work. A course had been shaped for the
Island of Java, where in the Harbour of Bantam he still entertained
hopes of falling in with the rest of the squadron.
Day after day the Lion continued her voyage without further adventure,
and every day saw some advance made in restoring her to her former
condition, so that, had she encountered a Portugal ship, she would have
been as ready as ever for the fight.
In appearance, however, she still wore a very battered and forlorn
state. Such was the guise in which she at length entered the harbour of
Bantam, making the best show that was possible, with banners and
streamers flying, and drums and fifes, and other music, playing. Very
different, however, was the figure they made from what they had
expected, and what it would have been, had the whole English squadron
sailed in at the same time. Very different also was the reception they
received from the King of Bantam, in those days a powerful sovereign
with a magnificent court of nobles dressed in rich robes. Perceiving
the coldness of their reception, Waymouth, habiting himself in his most
imposing attire, and taking a number of followers, attired in all the
bravery they could command, went on shore, and, on obtaining admission
to the palace, informed his majesty that his ship was only the first of
a large fleet which had just obtained a glorious victory over the
Portugals, and that he hoped they would soon enter the harbour and spend
a large portion of their wealth among him and his people. When this
fact became clear to the royal mind, the king's conduct underwent a
considerable alteration, and he seemed now only anxious to ascertain how
he could best please his guests. There was no lack of entertainments of
all sorts--fights of wild animals, shows, and dances. These served to
amuse the men, and to prevent them from thinking of the future. But
Waymouth and his chief officers could not get rid of their anxiety for
their companions. They still, however, lived on in hopes. In the mean
time, the captain's chief uneasiness arose from the conduct of the
boatswain, who was clearly endeavouring to ingratiate himself with the
crew by overlooking their faults and shielding them from punishment.
The consequence was that the discipline of the ship, spite of all the
captain and superior officers could do to prevent it, became worse than
it had ever been before. Miles Carlingford advised Waymouth to have
Hagger and his supposed associates seized, and run up to the yard-arm,
or shot; but there were many reasons against this summary proceeding.
They were in the port of a treacherous people, who would very likely
take advantage of any dissensions among themselves, and it was
impossible to say how many of the crew might join Hagger.
"We must either wait the arrival of the rest of the fleet or seize the
fellow in blue water, with no one to interfere with us," answered
Waymouth.
However, day after day passed by, and week after week, and the fleet did
not appear. It became at last too probable that they had all foundered.
Still it was possible that they might have put into some other port to
refit, and might arrive at the rendezvous after all.
The time passed pleasantly enough on shore, as great respect was shown
to the strangers by the king and chiefs. The English, in return, tried
to make themselves popular with all classes, and traded successfully
with them, taking care not to allow them to know the amount of wealth
they had on board. Hope grew meantime fainter and fainter, and it
struck Waymouth that the behaviour of the natives towards them had of
late changed for the worse. Among the merchants with whom he had
dealings was one who appeared to be especially honest, and more disposed
to be friendly than any of his countrymen. One day he made his
appearance on board, saying that he had come to trade, and he began in
the usual way, but while so engaged he contrived with a peculiar gesture
to give a paper to Waymouth, on which was drawn a ship under full sail.
Above the ship was a hand, showing the very gesture the merchant had
just made. Waymouth could scarcely fail to understand the hieroglyphic.
That the merchant wished the Lion to sail away there could be no doubt.
The expression of the man's countenance convinced him that he was
friendly and in earnest. Some danger threatened. Perhaps the king had
got information of the wealth contained in the ship, and intended to
seize her. Whatever enemies they might have on shore, there was one who
could not be kept out of the ship. The unhealthy season was
approaching. Fever made its appearance on board; several were struck
down with it; one after the other died; the surgeon declared that the
only way of saving the lives of all on board was to put forthwith to
sea.
Once more the Lion was ploughing the waters of the deep. "A sail! a
sail!" was the cry. A vessel was seen making for the harbour of Bantam.
She might be one of the long-missing squadron. Sail was made in chase.
As the Lion approached, the stranger showed the Portugal flag. Hurrah!
another prize was to be made. The thought put every one in high
spirits. Even the sick came up from their beds to have a look at the
enemy. The object of the Portugal was to enter the harbour of Bantam
before the Lion, under the belief that he would there find protection.
On sprang the king of beasts. It soon became obvious, unless there was
a change of wind, that the prey would have little chance of escape. The
officers and crew of the Lion eagerly watched the Portugal ship,
speculating on the value of her cargo, and whether she was likely to
offer resistance. Such an idea was generally treated with scorn. What
was the surprise, therefore, of all on board to see the chase suddenly
haul up her courses and heave her maintopsail aback to await the coming
of her pursuer!
"Can it be that any on board are treacherous, and wish thus to gain our
favour?" said Waymouth.
"More likely that they are cowards all, and think discretion the best
part of valour," observed Carlingford: "we shall soon learn, though."
"Ay, that shall we," answered Waymouth. "But, see, what flags are
those? They look not as if the Portugal was in a humble mood."
As he was speaking, several flags were hoisted to the mast-heads of the
stranger, conspicuous among all being that of Portugal flying above the
flag of England. The sight caused a general shout of indignation among
the English crew, and doubled their desire to get alongside the foe. As
they got still nearer, the Portugal once more let fall his sails and
stood boldly towards them, letting fly a shot in defiance.
"Now this is what does the heart good," exclaimed Waymouth in high glee.
"Yonder is a brave fellow and a worthy foe. I had ten times rather
meet such a one than the coward who runs away and then yields when he is
caught without striking a blow. We shall take yonder gentleman--of that
there is no doubt; and it will be a satisfaction to treat him as a brave
man should be treated--with honour and distinction."
"I would that we could avoid fighting," said Master Walker. "Here are
we both from Europe--two ships, the remnant, probably, of the proud
fleets which left our native shores--and we must needs set to work to
knock each other to pieces. What, prithee, is to be gained by it?"
"Honour, good Master Walker! honour, which we gentlemen of the sword
sigh for and live for, not to speak of the golden doubloons and other
articles of value with which these Portugals think fit to freight their
ships," answered Waymouth with a laugh which showed the cool if not
light spirit with which he could enter into the deadly fight.
Nearer and nearer drew the two ships. The Portugal was the first to
fire, and all his guns were aimed high, as if he was anxious to cripple
his opponent. The reason was obvious. His decks were crowded with men,
and he hoped by running on board the English ship to take her easily
with his overwhelming numbers. Waymouth saw that his proper plan was to
give the Portugals a wide berth and keep firing away till he had thinned
those numbers, at the same time that it was very much against his usual
system and inclination, as it was against that of his followers.
Now the guns of the Lion began to play vigorously, some of them being,
according to the captain's orders, fired high, and others low. Although
now and then her spars and ropes were hit, she was inflicting equal
injury on the rigging of her opponent, while such of her guns as were
trained low were making fearful havoc among the people on the deck of
the Portugal. She, in return, was employing every manoeuvre to close
with the Lion, till it appeared as if the English were actually afraid
of her.
"This must not last longer," exclaimed Waymouth. "British steel has
seldom failed, however great the odds. We'll give the Portugals their
way."
The remark was received with a loud shout by his men, on which he
ordered the Lion to be steered to close with her antagonist. The two
ships met with a crash; and before the Portugals, who had been mustering
on purpose, could reach the side of the Lion, her gallant crew, led by
Waymouth, had boarded the enemy. And now, in truth, was shown what
English steel could do; and well as many of the Portugals fought, the
decks were soon cleared of all but a gallant few, who, surrounding the
Portugal captain, stood at bay. That Portugal captain was a young man
of a noble bearing; though wounded, he seemed resolved to resist to the
last.
"Yield thee--yield thee, brave senhor!" cried Waymouth. "Life and
liberty shall be yours. I would fain not kill thee."
"To you, brave Captain Waymouth, I will yield me, if you will order your
men to refrain from striking," was the answer. "Truly, they strike so
hard and fast, that otherwise not one of my comrades will remain alive."
"You are a brave gentleman. It shall be as you desire. We have met
before, I suspect," shouted the English captain, ordering his men to let
drop the points of their weapons.
The deck, so lately the scene of a fierce conflict, was in an instant
quiet, though the planks, slippery with gore, and the human forms
strewed thickly from one end to the other, showed the desperate nature
of the drama which had there been enacted. The Portugal captain
delivered his sword to Waymouth, who courteously returned it,
recognising him as the bravest of those captains who had been captured
in the great battle fought by the whole fleet--Don Antonio de Mello by
name. The prize was richly freighted, and as the Lion would require
some repairs after the battle, it was resolved to carry her back to
Bantam.
The return of the English so soon with a captured enemy raised them very
much in the estimation of the people of Bantam, and proportionately
lowered the Portugals. The repairs of both ships were soon completed,
and the more valuable part of the cargo of the prize transferred to the
Lion. Waymouth's generous feelings prompted him to restore the captured
ship to Don Antonio, taking his word that neither he nor his officers or
men would again serve against the English. He made the proposal,
however, first to his own officers, who all, with the exception of Peter
Hagger, readily agreed to forego their share of the prize that the
prisoners might have an opportunity of returning to their own country.
The boatswain, on the contrary, vowed, that, as they had won the booty
by hard fighting, they would keep it, and that he and many other good
men that he knew of would not give up a nail of what was their own.
"Well said, Master Hagger; let me know who are these good men of whom
you speak, and your share and theirs of what is restored to the
Portugals shall be calculated and given to you," said Captain Waymouth,
looking sternly at the boatswain. "I wish to deprive no man of what he
considers his own; but it strikes me that when a fair estimate is made
of the real value of your share it will not be worth disputing about."
Notwithstanding these remarks of the captain, Hagger insisted on having
his share, but he was only able to send in the names of rather more than
a dozen men who agreed with him. The supercargo, or accountant, of the
Lion, was therefore summoned, and directed to make out an estimate of
the value of the shares in question.
"Now deduct therefrom," said Waymouth, "wages of officers and crew of
the Portugal to conduct her home; risk of capture or loss; increased
risk of loss or capture of the Lion in consequence of her being
short-handed."
"In that case, sir, the balance is against Master Hagger and the rest,"
remarked the accountant.
"I thought as much," observed Waymouth, laughing.
The boatswain's anger and disappointment were very great when he found
how the tables had been turned, and that, instead of gaining any thing,
he had merely shown who were the men among the crew plotting with him.
The Portugals' satisfaction was very great when they found that they
were not to be detained at Bantam, where, from the unhealthiness of the
climate during the hot months, they could expect only to find graves.
Don Antonio warmly expressed his gratitude.
"I had some information, noble captain, which I purposed giving before
parting, at all events, but which I have now a double gratification in
affording," he said, addressing Waymouth. "During that dreadful fight,
when your fleet destroyed so many of ours, some few Englishmen were
carried off prisoners by those which escaped. Among them was an officer
who belonged to the Lion. I saw him but once, and his name I did not
hear, though I doubt not that he is the friend whose fate you so much
desired to learn. He is now a prisoner in the Castle of San Pedro, to
the south of Goa. I had resolved to take the earliest opportunity of
sending you this information according to my promise, little supposing
that I should be able to deliver it under, to me, such unfortunate
circumstances."
This news raised Waymouth's spirits higher than they had been for some
time. It made him feel almost sure that Raymond had survived the
battle, because, as all the other officers of the Lion had been
accounted for, it could be only him of whom Don Antonio spoke. On
hearing this, it at once flashed across Waymouth's thoughts that he had
done unwisely in giving the prisoners their liberty with so few
conditions.
"I ought to have bargained that any English who might be in the hands of
their countrymen should promptly be liberated without ransom; but yet--
no; I have done a liberal deed, and I will not regret it. If these
Portugals have any feeling of honour, they will let my friend go free
when I demand him."
From a subsequent conversation with Don Antonio, Waymouth was compelled
to abandon the last expressed hope. It appeared that the governor of
the castle of San Pedro was a certain Don Lobo, who was noted for his
ferocity and avarice, so that he was well called Lobo, which means in
the Portugal tongue a wolf.
Don Antonio stated that he was never known to do a noble or generous
act, and that he was not likely to deliver up his prisoner unless a
heavy ransom was paid, and that so bitter was his animosity against the
English that it was possible he would not even set him at liberty.
"Then the Lion shall force the wolf to succumb," exclaimed Waymouth. "I
will not ask you, Don Antonio, to fight against your countrymen, but I
must beg you to give me such information as may assist me in liberating
my friend, and I must then exact a promise from you that you will not
return to San Pedro, or by any means allow notice of our approach to be
carried there."
Don Antonio, without hesitation, gave the promise required, the more
readily, perhaps, that the Lion would have the start of him for some
days, and, being short of provisions and water, he could not attempt to
make so long a passage as that from Bantam to Goa without being amply
supplied with both. Yet further to prevent the chance of Don Lobo being
informed of the approach of the Lion, Waymouth afterwards extracted an
additional promise from Don Antonio that he would not attempt to sail
for a week after her.
"Ned, dear coz, we shall once more shake hands, and drink a bowl
together to the health of thy lady love," he exclaimed, apostrophising
his friend while walking his quarter-deck, as the Lion, under all sail,
clove her way towards the west through the limpid ocean.