The Voyage of the Aurora Part 24

The pirates in possession were completely paralysed by the turn events had taken; they had evidently been under the impression that the _Aurora_, and not the _Virginie_ had proved victorious; and now that they found themselves under the guns of both s.h.i.+ps their mistake was past rectification.

Accordingly, at George's order, they backed the main-yard and hove-to the s.h.i.+p, upon which a strong party, armed to the teeth, proceeded on board and took possession.

The s.h.i.+p proved to be the _Vulcan_, of and from Liverpool, bound to Kingston with a valuable general cargo and several pa.s.sengers. She was a n.o.ble s.h.i.+p, being of nearly a thousand tons register, and a regular clipper.

On boarding her, George found the state of affairs pretty much what it had been on board the _Aurora_ after her capture by these same pirates, her crew and the male pa.s.sengers being discovered scattered about the deck, lashed helplessly neck and heels together, or chained to ring-bolts in the deck and bulwarks, whilst the pirates had taken possession of the cabin and had held a regular saturnalia there, in the progress of which the unfortunate lady pa.s.sengers had been subjected to the vilest outrages, and one poor little child had been cruelly murdered before its distracted mother's face. The captain and the chief mate of the s.h.i.+p were both found in the cabin in a dying condition, they having been mutilated in a most cruel and horrible manner in an ineffectual effort to wring from them the secret of the hiding-place of a large amount of specie which the pirates had somehow ascertained was on board.

A tall and burly negro, the identical one who had acted as lieutenant to the Spaniard in charge of the _Aurora_ on the occasion of her first capture, was at the head of the gang, and had been the instigator and chief perpetrator in the many outrages which had followed the capture of the _Vulcan_.

No time was lost in freeing the pa.s.sengers and crew from their exceedingly unpleasant situation; and this done, the pirates, ten in number, heavily ironed, were transferred to the _Virginie_ and stowed carefully away below. The _Vulcan_ then proceeded on her voyage, in charge of her second mate, by whom George forwarded a letter to the admiral at Jamaica, informing him of the capture of the now notorious _Aurora_.

George now felt that, with two s.h.i.+ps and so many desperate men to look after, he had his hands full, and he therefore decided to make the best of his way to England forthwith. He accordingly hailed Bowen, requesting him to give the _Aurora's_ stores an overhaul, and to ascertain whether her provisions and water were sufficient in quant.i.ty to justify them in making a push across the Atlantic. In about an hour an answer was returned to the effect that not only was there an abundance of everything, but that the s.h.i.+p herself was more than half full of a varied and very rich cargo, the spoils, doubtless, from many a missing vessel. Upon the receipt of this intelligence, orders were at once given for both s.h.i.+ps to fill and make the best of their way to the northward in company, and by nightfall they were clear of the Caycos Pa.s.sage and standing to the northward on a taut bowline under a heavy press of canvas.

The _Virginie_ and _Aurora_ made an excellent pa.s.sage across the Atlantic. They stood to the northward until the Trades were cleared, when they fell in with fresh westerly winds, which carried them all the way across; and, as the weather was fine, they had no difficulty in keeping each other in sight during the whole pa.s.sage, the two craft regulating their spread of canvas so that neither should outsail the other.

The pa.s.sage was consequently an uneventful one, nothing worthy of note occurring until they were in the chops of the Channel. Then, indeed, an adventure befell them, which proved George to have been wise in his determination that the two vessels should make the voyage in company.

It was the last week in October. They had just struck soundings, when the two craft ran into a dense, raw fog, which compelled all hands to seek warmth and comfort in their thickest jackets, and necessitated, as a matter of prudence, the immediate shortening of sail.

The fog lasted a couple of hours, and when it cleared up the _Aurora_ was discovered about two miles astern of the brig, and a large s.h.i.+p was at the same moment made out directly ahead. The stranger was hove-to under single-reefed topsails, with her head to the northward, her topsail-yards being just visible from the deck. The fact of her being hove-to in such a position seemed to point to the conclusion that she was a man-o'-war, and this supposition was confirmed when George took a look at her through his gla.s.s from the fore-topgallant-yard. She was a frigate, and French apparently, from the cut of her canvas; but of course it was quite possible that she might be in English hands, the English often taking French prizes into their own navy, and sending them to sea again with little or no alteration. Still, George thought it best to be on the safe side, and he accordingly at once ordered the _Virginie_ to clear for action, the _Aurora_ being signalled to do the same, his intention being to attack the frigate, if an enemy, since, as far as he could make out, she carried only twenty-four guns.

In the meantime, however, the brig and the barque had been discovered by the frigate, which at once made sail, and manoeuvred in such a manner as to intercept them.

Bowen, on the other hand, guessing at once what was in the wind, crowded sail upon the _Aurora_, and soon recovered his position alongside the _Virginie_, approaching the latter vessel within hailing distance, in order the better to concert plans for the possible coming engagement.

These were soon arranged, but not before it had become pretty evident, from the comparatively clumsy handling of the stranger, that she was indeed French. Their doubts, such as they were, were set at rest when the frigate had approached within a mile of them, by her hoisting a tricolour at her gaff-end, and soon afterwards she sent a shot across their fore-foot as a polite intimation that they would oblige her by heaving-to.

They, however, did nothing of the kind; a piece of discourtesy which _so_ preyed upon the French captain's mind that, without more ado, he bore down upon them, and opened fire from his starboard broadside.

The three s.h.i.+ps at that moment formed the three angles of a nearly equilateral triangle, the sides of which measured each about a quarter of a mile; the _Virginie_ and the _Aurora_ occupying, as it were, the two ends of the base, and the Frenchman being at the apex. This allowed both English s.h.i.+ps to attack their enemy on the same side--the starboard--and compelled the Frenchman to fight them both with only half his battery. He soon saw how great a disadvantage he laboured under by this arrangement, and did all he could to get between them. But it was all to no purpose; George and Bowen were fully as wide-awake as he was, and they successfully defeated every effort of his in this direction, princ.i.p.ally, it must be confessed, by some lucky shooting on their part, whereby the Frenchman's spars and rigging were so cut up that the craft soon became practically unmanageable. At length, after a brisk fight of about twenty minutes, the Frenchman's fore and main-topmasts both went simultaneously over the side, the frigate luffed into the wind, and obstinately remained there, and she was at George's mercy. The _Virginie_ at once made sail and took up a position across the enemy's bows, the _Aurora_ placed herself across his stern, and from these two advantageous positions a raking fire was opened, which, in less than five minutes, caused the Frenchman to haul down his flag and surrender.

The prize--which proved to be the twenty-four-gun frigate _Cigne_--was at once taken possession of by boats from both the _Virginie_ and the _Aurora_, her crew secured, and her damages repaired; and about midnight the three vessels made sail in company, arriving without further adventure at Spithead on the day but one following.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL."

The anchors were no sooner on the bottom than George found himself a busy man. There were certain authorities to be communicated with as to the disposal of the French prisoners, other authorities to be consulted as to the disposal of the pirates, and still others, again, to be seen and arranged with as to the disposal of the prizes. Then there were the owners of the _Vulcan_ to be dealt with in the matter of the salvage of that vessel, so that, altogether, he was kept going to and fro from morning until night.

Then there was Lucy to be called upon. But knowing--or thinking he knew--that the sad news he had to communicate would go far toward breaking the heart of the poor girl, he eagerly availed himself of every excuse which offered, to defer his visit; and so it happened that whilst Lucy--who had heard, with astonishment and joy unspeakable, the news of his strange reappearance and good fortune--waited impatiently for the longed-for visit, George was postponing it day after day, until nearly a fortnight had pa.s.sed.

And in truth he was so worried and hara.s.sed with unexpected difficulties that, even if he could have found the time, he lacked the heart for such a call. To his intense surprise, he learned that, though he had arrived at Spithead with three s.h.i.+ps, neither of them belonged to him. To begin with, the _Virginie_, having been captured whilst her captors were under the protection of a convoying squadron, was claimed as being actually the prize of that squadron, though not one of the s.h.i.+ps belonging to it had fired a shot or struck a blow to aid in the capture. Then, as to the _Aurora_, having not only bought and paid, but _also fought_, for her, George was strongly of opinion that _she_ at least was his. But, here again, it appeared that he was mistaken. She had been taken from him by pirates, and had been out of his possession more than twenty-four hours: she was therefore, _de facto_, a pirate, and the lawful prize of the _Virginie_, or rather, of the _Virginie's_ owners, namely, the convoying fleet aforesaid. And the same reasoning applied with equal effect to the _Cigne_. The naval authorities certainly were good enough to admit that George and his crew were, in virtue of their having been the actual captors of these vessels, ent.i.tled to a certain moderate share of the prize-money accruing therefrom, but further than that they would not go.

But if George found himself a busy man, he also found himself--outside the circle ruled by official jealousy--famous. The story, not only of his gallant achievements, but also of his misfortunes, leaked out, as such stories will; and he soon found himself a much-sought-after man, quite a lion, in fact. To such an extent, indeed, was this the case, that even the curiosity of royalty itself was aroused, and in the very midst of all his perplexities Leicester received a summons to present himself at court. This summons George of course dutifully and promptly obeyed, and whilst there not only told the whole story of his adventures, but also laid before his most gracious Majesty the grievances from which he considered himself to be suffering. He was well rewarded for his pains; for, when the king came to be fully informed of the details of the case, he took the matter in hand himself, with the result that a speedy and, on the whole, fairly satisfactory settlement was arrived at. He was also offered a commission in the navy, his Majesty sagely remarking that so good a man ought to be serving his country in some better way than by commanding a mere merchant-s.h.i.+p, and this time George was sensible enough to accept the offer. At his suggestion a commission was also offered to and accepted by Bowen.

All this business being at length satisfactorily concluded, George had no further excuse for shunning Sea View, and accordingly, on the first opportunity, he set out with considerable perturbation of spirit for Alverstoke.

It was about seven o'clock in the evening, and quite dark when George reached the house, and, pa.s.sing through the gate, strode up the well-remembered pathway, and administered a sounding _rat-tat_ at the door. A smart, fresh-looking maid-servant answered the summons, and, on his inquiry for Miss Walford, showed him into the familiar parlour, and asked for his name.

"Captain Leicester," answered George.

"Yes, sir, certainly, sir," said the girl, eyeing George with such undisguised curiosity and admiration as showed that she had undoubtedly heard some portion at least of his story. "Missus 'll be down in a minute, sir. Please to take a seat, sir."

George settled himself comfortably in a chair near the fire, and, looking round at the well-remembered pictures and "curios" which still adorned the room, fell into a reverie in which his mind travelled backward and took him again in imagination through all that had happened to him since he last sat in that room. From this he was brought back abruptly to the present by the opening of the door and the entrance of Lucy.

Ah! how George's heart leapt within his bosom as he looked at her. She was just the same charming girl as when he had seen her last, and yet there was a subtle difference. She was a trifle more womanly, her form was more fully developed, and if she was a shade paler, it only made her loveliness more distractingly bewitching than ever.

"Lucky Ned!" thought George. "To have been the chosen lover of such a woman as this--ay, though only for a few short hours, how willingly would I change places with you!"

"So you have come at last, captain," said Lucy, offering her delicate little hand. "I was beginning to think that, with all the honours which have been showered upon you, you had quite forgotten your former friends."

"No, Lucy, I have not," answered George; "I have not forgotten one of them--least of all have I forgotten you. Forgotten! Why, I have never ceased to remember you; I do not believe a single waking hour has pa.s.sed over my head since we last met, that I have not thought of you."

Lucy laughed blithely; she saw by the earnestness of his manner that he was speaking the literal truth; he had _not_ forgotten her, and all would yet be well.

"Fie, fie, captain," said she, "it is easily to be seen that you have been to court; you have learned so thoroughly the art of flattery."

"Ha!" exclaimed George, "have you heard of my visit to his Majesty, then?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Lucy, "I have heard not only that, but, I believe, your whole story. Is it possible you are ignorant of the fact that your name is in everybody's mouth, and that your story is public property?"

"So you have heard _all_ about me?" remarked George. "Then I hope to Heaven that you have also already heard the sad news which I came over to break to you this evening. I see you are in black."

"Yes," said Lucy, growing very grave at once, "I am in mourning for poor mother; she died nearly a year ago. But what is the sad news of which you have to speak to me?"

"You have _not_ heard, then?" said George. "Well, it is about your cousin Edward. I regret to say that I bring you bad news of him."

"Are you referring to his death?" asked Lucy with just the faintest suspicion of a tremor in her voice. "Because, if so, I have already heard of it, and of all your n.o.ble, self-sacrificing behaviour on his behalf. And as a relative, as indeed his _only_ surviving relative, let me here and now thank you, George, in all earnestness and sincerity, for your devotion to my unfortunate cousin."

"By Jove, she bears it well; she can't have cared so _very_ much for him, after all," thought George.

"No thanks are necessary, I a.s.sure you," was the reply. "I only did for him what I would have done with equal readiness for a stranger. But I had vowed that I would be a protector to him, and that I would--if G.o.d willed it--restore him to your arms; and I am grieved that I failed to keep my vow. Believe me, it was through no fault of mine that I failed, Lucy; I did the best I could, but G.o.d willed it otherwise."

"Yes--yes," answered Lucy in a dazed sort of way; "yes, G.o.d willed it otherwise. But--whatever do you mean, George, by talking about restoring him to my arms? Any one would think, to hear you speak, that I was married to him."

"Well," said George, "betrothal _is_ a sort of marriage, is it not?"

"Betrothal!" exclaimed Lucy, looking more bewildered than ever. "Pray explain yourself, Captain Leicester; I a.s.sure you I have not the _slightest_ idea of what you mean."

It was now George's turn to look mystified.

"No idea of what I mean?" he stammered. "Why--why--you were engaged to your cousin, Edward Walford, _were you_ not?"

A new light suddenly flashed into Lucy's mind. All along she had been convinced that there was some reason for George's failure to visit her on the occasion of his previous arrival in port, and now the matter was a.s.suredly on the eve of explanation. So she looked up into George's face, and said quietly--

"No, George, I never was engaged to my cousin. He proposed to me, but I refused him, explicitly and in most unmistakable terms."

"You did?" panted George, his heart throbbing tumultuously. "When was that?"