A fortnight from the day on which Captain Leicester signed the
charter-party saw the last package passed into the _Aurora's_ hold, and
on the following day she sailed for Plymouth, there to join a fleet of
merchant-ships which were to cross the Atlantic under convoy.
Thanks principally to the exertions of his chief mate, Mr Bowen, George
was fortunate enough to pick up a very good crew, comprising a second
mate--who acted also as boatswain--a carpenter, a steward, a black cook,
two able-seamen, four ordinary ditto, and two well-grown lads, who had
already been a voyage or two in a coaster. This constituted a
complement of fourteen men, all told; just sufficient to handle the
barque comfortably.
They sailed from the Thames with the wind at about west, and had a
capital run as far as the South Foreland, the _Aurora_ showing herself
to be such a smart vessel under her canvas that her commander was
delighted with her.
At this point, however, the wind, which still held from the westward,
was dead against them, and it became a question whether they should
anchor in the Downs to await a favourable change, or continue on and
endeavour to beat a passage as far as Plymouth. Prudence dictated the
adoption of the former course; it being well known that the Channel was
just then swarming with French privateers--powerful luggers for the most
part--the captains of which had an unpleasant habit of slipping out of
harbour as the evening came on, and stretching across toward the English
coast, on the lookout for our merchantmen, very often picking up a
valuable prize and getting back into port the next morning. The
weather, too, happened just then to be highly favourable for the
operations of these gentry, the sky being overcast with frequent
showers, and no moon.
On the other hand, however, time was of the utmost importance; George
had only five days left him in which to reach Plymouth, if he was to
avail himself of the protection of convoy; so, after discussing the
question with Mr Bowen, and carefully weighing it in his own mind, he
finally decided to keep the ship moving, and to trust to fortune and a
good lookout.
The _Aurora_ accordingly proceeded, stretching over as far as
mid-channel, when she went about; and on drawing in with the land again
Leicester had the satisfaction of seeing that she would handsomely
weather Beachy Head, which she did, tacking close in under the land
about breakfast-time on the day following her departure from London. At
2 p.m., being at the time rather nearer to the French than to the
English coast, George tacked again, in order to close the English shore
toward nightfall.
At 9 p.m., being abreast of Littlehampton, and about eight miles off the
shore, the _Aurora_ went about once more, and stood over towards France,
close-hauled on the starboard tack.
The weather had cleared somewhat, the sun breaking through the clouds as
the afternoon wore on, and flooding the whole western sky with splendour
as he sank to rest. One by one, as the golden glory of the west faded
into sober grey, the stars shone out, peeping shyly down upon the world
from the softly dappled sky, and there was every prospect of its being a
fine night in the Channel. George accordingly gave instructions for the
ship to continue on the same tack until midnight, when she was to be
hove about once more. Then, cautioning the second mate--who was in
charge of the deck--to maintain a strict lookout and to call him in the
event of a change of weather or the appearance of a suspicious-looking
sail in their neighbourhood, he went below to snatch an hour or two of
sleep, having had none so far from the moment of the vessel's sailing.
Flinging off his clothes, he threw himself into his swinging cot, and
instantly sank into a sound and dreamless slumber; to be awakened again
with a start, and almost instantly, as it seemed to him, by the flapping
of the ship's canvas in the wind.
Starting up into a sitting posture, he heard the voice of the chief mate
on deck giving the necessary orders for tacking ship.
"Hillo!" he thought, "what is the meaning of this? Nothing wrong, I
hope. No, that cannot be, or they would surely have called me. Perhaps
it is a change of wind; I hope it is. Well, being awake, I may as well
slip on deck and satisfy myself as to the meaning of it."
He accordingly sprang out of his cot, and began to dress himself; the
sounds on deck having meanwhile ceased, save for the monotonous tread
overhead of the officer of the watch, and the occasional clank of the
wheel-chains. The ship was heeling over to starboard, showing that she
was on the port tack, and the rushing sound of the water along her sides
seemed to indicate that she was moving pretty rapidly through it.
As he opened his state-room door to pass into the main cabin, a heavy
step was heard descending the companion-ladder, and the next moment the
second mate appeared at its foot, in the act of turning into his own
state-room.
"Well, Mr Cross," said the skipper, "what is the news from the deck?
You have tacked ship, it seems; is there a change of wind?"
"No, sir," answered Cross; "the wind still holds steady at about west,
though it seems a little inclined to back half a point or so to the
south'ard, and it's clouded over again and gone very dark. We tacked at
midnight, sir, according to your orders."
"Midnight!" ejaculated George; "you surely do not mean to say it is
midnight already, Cross?"
"About a quarter after it, sir," answered the second mate with a smile.
"You've slept sound, sir, I expect; and time has travelled fast with
you."
"I must have slept sound indeed," answered the skipper; "to me it seemed
that I had hardly fallen asleep when I was awakened by the flapping of
the canvas. Well, I'll not keep you from your bunk; I shall go on deck
and take a look round before I turn in again. Good-night."
"Good-night, sir," was the reply; and the second mate opened the door of
his berth and passed in, whilst George sprang lightly up the
companion-ladder and stepped out on deck.
It was indeed, as the second mate had said, very dark; so much so that
the skipper, having just left the cabin, where a lamp was dimly burning,
was unable to see anything for a moment or two. Then, as his eyes grew
accustomed to the darkness, he caught first a glimpse of the man at the
wheel, his form faintly illuminated by the binnacle light, then the
figure of the mate, just turning near the taffrail to walk forward, and
finally the dark, shadowy pile of canvas towering away aloft until it
melted into the general obscurity.
"It has gone very dark again, Mr Bowen," remarked the skipper, as the
mate, becoming aware of George's presence on deck, joined him.
"It _is_ dark, sir," answered the mate, "almost too dark to be poking
about here in the Channel without lights."
"It is rather risky, I admit," returned George; "still, I do not think
it is so dangerous as showing our lights; that would simply be hanging
out an invitation to those prowling French privateers to pounce down on
us. How is her head?"--to the man at the wheel, George and the mate
having by this time strolled aft together.
"No'th, half west, sir," was the reply.
"Come, that is not so bad," remarked George. "We shall fetch Plymouth
yet in good time to join the convoy if all be--"
"A sail broad on the weather bow!" broke in the lookout forward, with
startling abruptness.
Both George and the mate instantly directed their gaze in the direction
indicated by the lookout; and presently a shapeless something like a
blacker patch against the black background of the darkness loomed into
view, about one point before the beam, showing by this rapid change in
the respective positions of the two ships how near was the stranger.
"Why!" exclaimed Leicester, "he is coming right down for us; he will be
into us. Port, port hard; up with your helm smartly, my lad," to the
man at the wheel. "Ship ahoy! Port your helm; can you not see us?"
"Ay, ay; oh, yesh," was the response from the other vessel; and as it
came floating down upon the wind the stranger took a broad sheer to
port, showing herself to be a large lugger, and shot very neatly
alongside the _Aurora_, the grappling-irons being cleverly hove into the
barque's fore and main-rigging, as the two vessels touched.
At the same moment some five-and-twenty Frenchmen, armed with cutlass
and pistol, scrambled alertly in over the _Aurora's_ bulwarks, the
leader singling out George, notwithstanding the darkness, and
exclaiming, as he promptly presented a pistol at his head--
"Vat cheep dis is, eh?"
"The _Aurora_, of London," was the answer, "Tres bien! My cheep, the
_Belle Marie_, est un corsaire Francais, un--vat you call--privateere,
et vous etes mes prisonniers. It is ze fortune of war, messieurs; my
turn to-night--yours to-morrow, perhaps--ha, ha! Now, my dear sares, as
there not moosh time is, permettez moi," and he flung open the
companion-doors, motioning significantly to George and the mate to go
below.
Poor George glanced swiftly round the deck, only to see that it was in
complete possession of the Frenchmen, one of whom was already at the
wheel. So, turning to Mr Bowen, and murmuring, "There is no help for
it, I suppose," he signed to the mate to lead the way, and then
followed, dejectedly, the doors being smartly slammed-to after them, and
the next moment they heard the sound of some heavy body being dragged up
to and banged against the companion entrance, thus precluding the
possibility of their stealing on deck again, and effecting a counter
surprise.
The whole thing had been done so rapidly that it was not until he found
the ship being once more hove about, with her head pointing toward the
French coast, that Captain Leicester fully realised his situation. In
less than ten minutes his ship had been taken from him, and himself
confined in his own cabin, a prisoner. Had he not been on deck at the
time of the occurrence, he would certainly have considered it an
avoidable misfortune, to be accounted for only by the most gross
carelessness; but as it was, he was fully able to understand that it was
entirely due to the extreme darkness of the night, and the circumstance
of the lugger and the barque stumbling over each other, as it were. But
that made matters no better for him; he had lost his ship--his all--and
now there loomed before him the immediate prospect of a dreary
confinement--for many years perhaps--in a French prison. The thought
goaded him almost to madness, and he sprang impatiently to his feet, and
began to pace moodily to and fro over the narrow limits of the cabin
floor.
Meanwhile the second mate--who had started out of his berth at the first
shock of contact between the two vessels, and had made a rush for the
deck, only to be confronted and driven back by a Frenchman with a drawn
cutlass--was seated on the lockers alongside Mr Bowen, listening to
that individual's gloomy recital of the details of the capture.
The low murmur of the two men's voices annoyed George in his then
irritable frame of mind, and, to avoid it, he retired into his own
state-room. The night being close and sultry, all the stern-ports were
open, and as he entered the cabin the sound of a hail from to leeward
came floating in through the ports. It was answered from the deck, and,
kneeling upon the sofa-locker and thrusting his body well out of the
port, the skipper became aware that the lugger was parting company, and
that the hail he had heard was the voice of the French captain shouting
his parting instructions to the officer he had left in charge of the
prize. Looking away to leeward, in the direction from which the sounds
had come, he was just able to distinguish the dark outline of the
lugger, as she bore up and pursued her _way once more to_ the eastward.
After this a considerable amount of excited jabbering took place on
deck, the word "Cherbourg" being so often repeated that George had no
doubt it was to that port that the barque was to be taken; but in about
half an hour all this died away, and perfect silence reigned on board
once more.
From the moment that the lugger parted company a confused idea as to the
possibility of retaking the barque had been gradually attaining definite
shape in George's mind. It was rather a desperate attempt to make, it
is true, with himself and the two mates shut up there in the cabin aft,
while the crew were doubtless confined in the forecastle, and with no
possibility of effecting a junction with them. Still, if Bowen and
Cross were willing to run the risk of assisting him, it might be worth
while to try it.
Thinking thus, he drew his head inside the stern-port, and made his way
back into the main cabin, where he found the two mates, with their arms
crossed upon their chests, and their heads bowed upon their breasts,
asleep.
Giving them a gentle shake apiece, to arouse them, he sat down beside
them and asked them bluntly if they felt disposed to run a little risk
in an attempt to retake the barque, and so avoid a French prison.
"You may reckon on me for one, sir, if you've hit upon anything likely
in the shape of a plan," heartily answered the chief mate; "and Cross
here, I know, won't hold back either, unless I'm greatly mistaken in
him."
"Never fear," said Cross; "if you give the word, sir, and the ship is to
be retook, we'll have her. But how do you propose to do it?--it'll have
to be a surprise, I s'pose?"
"Listen," said George. "What I propose is this. The stern-ports are
all open; and I believe that, by assisting each other, we may manage to
creep out through them on to the main-brace boom-iron, and thence make
our way along the ship's side, _outside_ the bulwarks, forward, when, by
watching our opportunity, we may possibly manage to overpower the guard
on the forecastle, throw off the hatch, and release our own lads, and
then we must just make a fight for it. We may perhaps--we three--manage
to take along with us a cutlass and a brace of pistols each; but the men
must do the best they can with hand-spikes, belaying-pins, and, in
short, anything they can lay their hands upon."
"A very promising plan indeed, sir," answered the chief mate. "The next
question is, when are we to set about it?"
"The sooner the better," answered George; "so go at once, please, for
your pistols; load them carefully; take a cutlass each from the rack;
and then we will proceed to business."
In a very _few_ minutes the trio were ready. Going softly into George's
state-room, they paused for a minute or two to listen for any sounds
which might furnish them with a clue to the condition of affairs on
deck; but nothing was to be heard, save the occasional clank of the
wheel-chains, and the low humming of a song by the helmsman.
"It is all curiously quiet on deck," whispered George to his two
companions; "I can't quite make it out; it undoubtedly means one of two
things, however--either they are keeping a very strict and careful
watch, or none at all; we shall soon see which. Now, Cross, stand by to
give me a hoist, if I seem to require it; I will go first, and as soon
as I am fairly out of the way, Mr Bowen can follow."
Kicking off his boots and stockings, the skipper thereupon, without
further ado, mounted the lockers, and passing his body cautiously out of
the weathermost stern-port, held on by the edge of the port with one
hand, whilst he reached out and felt for the brace-iron with the other.
This he soon found, and grasping it firmly with his right hand, began to
work himself cautiously towards it. The task he had set himself proved,
however, to be much more difficult than he had expected; the rake of the
ship's stern so greatly interfering with his freedom of motion that at
first he feared he would be obliged to abandon the attempt altogether,
as he foresaw that, the moment he released his hold upon the edge of the
port, he must infallibly swing off backwards, and, unless he could
manage to retain his grasp of the iron, drop overboard. So he slipped
in through the port again, to explain this difficulty to the mates, and
to caution them to be careful when it came to their turn, and then
resumed his attempt.
Once more securing a firm grasp upon the brace-iron, he watched the roll
of the ship, and, seizing the first favourable opportunity, boldly swung
himself off into the air, where he hung suspended by one arm, with his
feet almost touching the water. In another moment he had both hands
upon the iron, and, giving himself a vigorous upward swing, he was soon
able to throw his feet over the tautly-strained main-brace. To scramble
up and place himself astride the brace-block was now an easy task, and,
settling himself firmly there, he prepared to assist the chief mate,
when he should make his appearance.
He had not long to wait. Hardly was he comfortably established in his
comparatively safe position, when a hand appeared from behind the
quarter-piece in search of the iron. George promptly seized and guided
it to the object of its search, then firmly grasped the wrist with one
hand, keeping the other ready to render further assistance.
"Look out, sir, I'm coming," he heard the chief mate mutter, and then,
with a tremendous swing, Mr Bowen's body came into view. Quick as
thought George leaned over and caught the disengaged hand, placed it too
upon the iron, and then, rising to his feet and exerting his strength to
the utmost, he proceeded to drag his chief mate up alongside himself.
"Now," he whispered, as soon as he had got him there, "I shall begin to
work my way forward at once, so as to be out of your way; but you had
better stay and lend Cross a hand. I shall wait for you both in the
fore-chains."
So saying, he stepped off the brace-iron, planting his feet firmly on
the broad beading which ran along the top edge of the sheer-strake, and
leaning his body against the bulwarks, whilst he grasped the outer edge
of the rail to steady himself, he speedily and easily reached the
mizzen-chains.
Here, availing himself of the partial shelter and cover afforded by the
lanyards and dead-eyes of the rigging, he cautiously raised his head
above the level of the bulwarks, to survey the state of the deck
inboard. The first object which met his view was the figure of the
helmsman, rendered visible by the light of the binnacle-lamps as they
beamed dimly out upon him and feebly lighted up his figure. He was
leaning negligently against the wheel, with one arm thrown carelessly
over it, and his eyes were vacantly fixed upon the cloudy heavens above
him, with his thoughts evidently far away. Not another soul was
visible, either forward or aft; but George thought he could make out the
indistinct outline of something resembling a human figure seated on the
bench to windward of the cabin companion. He continued so long his
earnest gaze upon this object that he was quite startled to find his
first and second mates beside him; and he came at last to the conclusion
that, if it were indeed a human figure at all, it must be that of the
prize-master--sound asleep.
Turning his glances from this object forward, he saw that the
galley-door to windward was shut, whilst on the lee-side it was open,
the reflection of a light inside shining pretty strongly upon the lee
bulwarks and showing the shadows of men evidently in the act of eating
and drinking.
"Do you see that?" whispered George to his two companions. "Nothing
could possibly be more favourable to our plans. We will work our way
forward as far as the main-rigging, when, I think, we may venture to
slip over the bulwarks, and in on deck. Then we must creep very
cautiously forward, find out the whereabouts of the watchman, or
lookout, or whatever he is, and overpower him, if possible, without
raising an alarm. That done, we will set free our own lads, and I have
no fear whatever as to the result."
The three adventurers then moved noiselessly forward until they came to
the main-rigging, when they slipped in on deck, and, crouching low in
the deep shadow of the weather bulwarks, crept along until they were
within a dozen feet of the fore-scuttle. Here they paused, and began to
peer anxiously about for the man they expected to find on watch on the
forecastle.
"There he is, just forward of the cat-head," whispered the second mate;
and hastily snatching a heavy iron belaying-pin from the rail, he stole,
crouching and noiseless as a cat, upon his unconscious enemy. Six
seconds later a dull heavy blow was heard, followed by a faint groan,
the dark object near the cat-head vanished, and Cross, returning to the
skipper's side, whispered--
"_He's_ all right; knocked the senses clean out of him, and then laid
him quietly out on deck. I reckon he won't come to hisself again for
the next half-hour. Now, what's the next move, cap'n?"
"The next thing," answered George, "is to open the fore-scuttle, and
quietly get our own lads on deck. I am surprised that they have not
attempted to steal up of their own accord before this."
On going to the forecastle hatch, however, they soon discovered the
reason why the men were content to remain so quietly below, a large
mooring hawser having been coiled down on the top of the hatch, thus
effectually preventing the imprisoned men from raising it.
"We shall never be able to move this without giving the alarm," said
George. "We must contrive somehow to shut those fellows up in the
galley, and keep them there."
"That is easily done," whispered the chief mate. "`Cookey' has a lot of
firewood stowed away in the eyes of the long-boat; we must get hold of a
piece, cut half a dozen wedges from it, and one of us must then slide-to
the door on the lee-side, and wedge it tight with three of the wedges,
whilst another of us at the same time wedges up the door to windward."
He then glided away to the long-boat, and soon returned with a small
piece of wood in his hand.
"Here we are," he whispered; "now we'll soon have them boxed up so tight
that they won't get out until we open the doors for 'em."
Whilst speaking he had produced his knife from his pocket, and,
notwithstanding the intense darkness, soon hacked out the half-dozen
wedges, which, though very roughly shaped, were still good enough for
the purpose.
"Now, sir," said he in a low tone to George, "you take these three, let
Cross go with you and slide-to the lee-door with a slam, and then you
slip in the wedges and jam them tight home, while I will do the same to
wind'ard, as soon as I hear Cross close the lee-door."
George took the wedges, and, accompanied by Cross crept noiselessly up
to the galley-door to leeward, Mr Bowen meanwhile making his way to the
corresponding door on the weather side. There was a loud slam, a moment
of silence, then a tremendous outcry, accompanied by the sound of heavy
battering from inside the galley, and the three adventurers met again at
the forecastle hatch.
"Now, then," cried George, "we haven't a moment to lose, so let us
capsize the hawser bodily. Are you ready? Then, one--two--three,
Heave!"
By exerting their whole strength to the utmost the heavy hawser was
rolled off the hatch, and the hatch itself raised, just as two figures
came rushing forward from the quarterdeck with loud and angry outcries.
"Tumble up, my lads!" shouted George down the scuttle; "tumble up
smartly, and help us to retake the ship."
"Ay, ay, sir," was the eager answer from below, and then the skipper,
drawing his cutlass and pistol, turned to meet the prize-master and the
helmsman, who had both hurried forward to learn the meaning of the
disturbance in the galley.
"Surrender, or you are a dead man!" exclaimed George, thrusting the
muzzle of his pistol into the face of the as yet only half-awake
prize-master.
"Oui, oui, m'sieu; oh, yais, I surrendaire," exclaimed the poor fellow,
as he felt the firm pressure of the cold pistol-barrel against his
forehead; and hastily unbuckling his cutlass, he thrust it into George's
hand.
The chief mate, in the meantime, had incontinently felled the other man
to the deck with a single blow from his fist, and had then left Cross to
secure him with a rope's end. The barque's crew had meanwhile made
their way on deck, and were now clustered about their officers, anxious
to know what they were to do, whilst the _Aurora_, left to herself, had
shot up into the wind's eye, and was now lying stationary, with all her
square canvas aback, and the rest of her sails fluttering loudly in the
wind.
"One hand to the wheel, and jam it hard up," commanded George; "the rest
of you to your stations. Mr Bowen and Mr Cross, you will mount guard
over the galley-doors, if you please, until we have got the ship round.
Raise tacks and sheets, round with the main-yard, and flatten in
forward. Well, there, with the main-braces. Now swing your fore-yard,
board the fore and main-tacks, and haul over the head-sheets. Right
your helm, my lad; give her a spoke or two, if _you find_ she wants it,
as she gathers way, and then keep her `full and by.' Now, lads, never
mind about coiling up just now; you can do that after we have attended
to the prisoners; come forward and open the weather galley-door, and as
the Frenchmen pass out, seize them and lash their hands and heels
together."
These orders were promptly executed, the discomfited Frenchmen being
permitted to pass out of the galley only one at a time. Cross's burly
form, drawn cutlass and conspicuously displayed pistol, supported by the
appearance of the barque's crew in his immediate background, proving an
effectual deterrent to any attempt on the part of the privateersmen to
make a rush for freedom, and in something like a couple of hours from
the time of her capture, the _Aurora_, was once more in the undisputed
possession of her rightful owner.