Five years passed away before the _Hero_ returned once again to the
shores of old England. Jack felt himself of more importance than he had
ever been before. He had now a home of his own, and when the ship was
paid off, while others were seeking further employment or knocking about
idly in a seaport, he set off with joy to that humble abode. It never
occurred to him that death might have been busy there of late. For many
a long month he had not heard of Nancy. Neither of them were great
scribes, but with the aid of friends and shipmates they had during his
absence contrived to exchange letters. Jack trudged on manfully. He
had brought home most of his pay, though no prize money burnt in his
pockets, yet he did not expect to be received with less welcome. His
was a kind trailing heart. It was dark when he reached his own door.
He looked in through the little lattice window. There was Dame Hughes
and there was his Nancy sitting opposite to her busily plying her
needle. He pronounced her name just to prepare her, as he said, for his
appearance. She gazed about with a startled look as if she could not
believe her senses. He spoke again. This time she knew his voice, and
it was not long before he had both her and her old mother in his arms.
Jack was as happy as the live long day, and many a tale of wonder had he
to tell about those curious South Sea Islands and their savage
inhabitants, and the icebergs and the whales, and the Patagonian giants
and the huge sharks, and the waterspouts and the aurora borealis.
Two months thus passed speedily away, and then Jack found that he must
go to sea once more. He would have liked to stay much longer, but if
Nancy once got used to him, as he said, she would not let him go at all;
so he had better go while he could. This time he found his way to
Portsmouth, and sailed in a line of battle ship for the East Indies.
Four years soon passed by out there, though before they were over he
longed to be again at home. Fever visited the ship and carried off many
victims, but he was spared. He was in more than one tempest, and formed
one of a boat's crew who boarded a dismasted Indiaman, at the risk of
their own lives, and were the means of preserving those of all on board.
On his reaching England, he found that a fleet was fitting out for the
Mediterranean, and that something was to be done. He would not miss the
opportunity, though he longed to be at home; so he at once entered on
board another line of battle ship, and then got a few days leave to run
down and see his wife. He found her in great affliction, for she had
just lost her mother, and much he wished to stay and comfort her, but
duty called him away. Poor Nancy would be very lonely during his
absence, and with a heavier heart than he had ever before in his bosom
he left her, her only comfort his promise that he would return as soon
as he had the power.
Long had the unhappy Greeks groaned under the grinding tyranny of the
Turks. An army under Ibrahim Pacha was oppressing them with fresh
exactions. Generous England, ever ready to assist the weak and injured,
resolved to send a squadron to relieve them. It was placed under the
command of Sir Edward Codrington. Jack was on board one of the line of
battle ships. Joined by the squadrons of France and Russia they entered
the harbour of Navarin, where the Turkish and Egyptian fleets, mounting
altogether nearly two thousand guns, lay moored in the form of a
crescent, supported by some heavy batteries on shore. The Turks
commenced hostilities by firing on a flag of truce and killing an
officer and several men. The _Dartmouth_ on this opened a fire of
musketry to protect the boat, and the action commenced in earnest. Jack
had never before been in a general action. The allies had about thirty
ships, and the Turks had a hundred, and all these were now blazing away
together. Shot, and shell, and musket balls were flying thickly about.
Loud and deafening was the roar from upwards of three thousand guns as
they sent forth their messengers of death, a dark canopy from their
smoke forming overhead and serving as a funeral pall to many a brave man
who fell that day. Each British ship was opposed to several of the foe,
but discipline and true courage prevailed over fanaticism, and one after
the other the Turkish ships caught fire, and many blew up with terrific
explosions, destroying their own crews and the ill-fated Greek prisoners
they had on board. Jack stood manfully at his gun, seeing but little of
what was going forward; but one thing he saw not to be forgotten, a
British man-of-war cutter engage a brig and a corvette; and when the
brig blew up, and her own cable being cut she drifted foul of a frigate,
repel repeated boarding parties of the Turks, and in addition an attack
from a large Turkish boat, which her two carronades knocked to pieces.
Jack had seen many of his shipmates fall. As he was in the act of
hauling away at the tackle to run out his gun, he felt himself struck to
the deck. He attempted to rise.
"Let me have another shot at them," he sung out, but his shattered leg
shewed him how vain was the wish. He was carried below, and the surgeon
made short work in lopping off the limb.
Minus his leg, yet unbroken in spirit, and with a heart warm as ever and
his trust in God's mercy unabated, Jack returned once more to old
England. Happily he had served long enough to entitle him to a berth in
Greenwich Hospital. For that magnificent abode of England's gallant and
worn-out defenders he accordingly bore up, and on his way there he sent
for his faithful Nancy to nurse him and keep him company. A smiling
black countenance under a three-cornered gold-laced hat greeted him on
his arrival, and he found his hand warmly grasped by his old friend
Sambo. For many a year were they known at the Hospital, and many a long
yarn did Jack spin of the adventures which befel him during his nautical
career.
The End.