True Blue Part 10

"No, sir, not mine more than Abel Bush's or Peter Ogle's, or any of them astern there," answered Paul. "No, sir, he belongs to us all, d'ye see, sir? He's the son of an old s.h.i.+pmate, sir, killed out in the West Ingies, fighting with Lord Rodney; and his mother was an old s.h.i.+pmate too; and so the boy was left to the s.h.i.+p's company, and they chose us to look after him--and we have looked after him, and we intend to look after him; and we loves him just as if he was a son, and more nor some fathers do their sons, and that's the truth on't, sir; and so we all intends to s.h.i.+p with him, that we may have him among us, that's it, sir."

"That's it, sir," echoed the rest, to show that they were all of one mind.

"Well, if you all like to join provisionally, I will see what the Captain will consent to do," answered the lieutenant.

Now as none of the party had the slightest idea of what joining provisionally meant, they were very much inclined to declare off altogether, when just then a young active man, with an extremely pleasant expression of countenance, in the full-dress uniform of a Post-Captain, was seen coming up the High Street. He stopped when he got up to the group of seamen.

"Ah, Mr Brine, are any of these men going to join us?" he asked, glancing his keen eyes over them. His countenance brightened when he saw Paul Pringle.

"Why, I believe that I see an old s.h.i.+pmate whom I have not met for many a year; and not one only--two or three more of you I remember clearly.

Am I not right?" said he. "We served together in the old _Terrible_, and afterwards in the _Fame_."

"I thought so, sir!" exclaimed Paul with a cheerful voice. "I remember you now, sir, that I do, though I shouldn't if you hadn't told me where we'd been together. Maybe, sir, you remember a little baby you used to be kind to, born aboard the s.h.i.+p. There he is, sir."

"What, Billy True Blue! Of course I do," answered the Captain in a pleasant tone. "Come here, my lad; and you still follow the sea, do you? You began pretty early."

"There's no other calling to my mind a man would wish to follow, sir,"

answered True Blue.

"All right, my men," said Captain Garland; "if you haven't got a s.h.i.+p, I shall be very glad if you will join the _Ruby_. I do not believe that there are many frigates in the service will beat her in any way, and I promise you it will not be my fault if she isn't a happy s.h.i.+p."

"Just one word, sir, with the rest and we'll tell you," said Paul.

"As many as you like," said the Captain; and he and his lieutenant stepped aside.

Scarcely a minute had pa.s.sed before Paul Pringle came up to him.

"We'll all join you, sir, Billy and all," said he; "and I suppose, sir, you'll not object to take Sam Smatch in? He always goes with us; and though he's not wanted to nurse Billy now, there isn't a better hand with his fiddle to be found anywhere. He might get a good living on sh.o.r.e--that he might, sir; but he'd rather stick by us, as he's always done, in spite of all the ups and downs of a life at sea, sir."

"Sam Smatch? Of course we'll have him!" said the Captain, not trying to conceal how highly pleased he was at getting so fine a haul of good men at one time for his s.h.i.+p. "And now I wish you to accompany Mr Brine on board at once and enter. When it's known that we have a fair number of good men, others will join; and the faster we man the s.h.i.+p, the sooner we shall get to sea and be at the enemy."

A little more conversation pa.s.sed. Paul and his companions went on board and entered; and Mr Brine, soon convinced that they might be trusted on sh.o.r.e, allowed them to go. They employed their time so well in singing the praises of their new Captain, that in a week or two the _Ruby_ was fully manned. In those days the crew themselves were chiefly employed in fitting the s.h.i.+p for sea, and as they all worked with a will, in a very short time longer she had all her stores and provisions on board, and was ready to go out to Spithead. The remainder of the officers had joined; Blue Peter was hoisted, and, with a fair breeze, she stood out of Portsmouth Harbour. In two days more her powder was on board, and under all sail she was running out at the Needle Pa.s.sage.

The frigate was on the home station; but there was plenty of work for her. The enemy's cruisers were very active; and they had some fine fast frigates, which committed a great deal of mischief among the merchant s.h.i.+pping, and carried off numbers of prizes.

Captain Garland determined to capture one or more of these, if he could, without delay. His s.h.i.+p soon showed her fast-sailing qualities by making prizes of a number of small fry, in the shape of French coasters, "_cha.s.se-marees_," and two or three larger merchantmen, which were sent into either Plymouth or Portsmouth to be disposed of. This sort of work, however, did not satisfy the wishes of either the Captain or his officers or crew. Among those most eager for the fight was Billy True Blue Freeborn. That was the way in which his name had been entered in the s.h.i.+p's books. He recollected clearly what a battle was, though he had not been engaged in one since that fierce engagement when he lost his friend and chief, Captain Penrose.

Since then, he had been for the greater part of the time at sea, partly on board a man-of-war, but mostly in merchantmen and coasters, where Paul Pringle took him, that, as he said, he might not be afraid of rocks and shoals, or the look of a lee-sh.o.r.e in a gale of wind. Out of all that time he had only remained three years on sh.o.r.e, as his kind guardian remarked, "to get his edication, and to larn manners."

Paul Pringle used to boast among his friends that Billy True Blue was already a perfect seaman, and that he would sooner trust him at the helm on a squally night, or on the lookout forward on a dark one, than he would most men twice his age; but he took care never to say this in True Blue's own hearing, lest, as he observed, "the lad should larn to think too much of hisself."

True Blue had not been long on board the _Ruby_ before he became a favourite with most of his new s.h.i.+pmates. Had he not had watchful guardians about him, he would soon have been spoilt by them. To see him dance the hornpipe, while Sam Smatch played his old fiddle, was, as his admirers declared, "indeed a pleasure not to be met with any day in the week," except on board the _Ruby_. How he could shuffle and spring, and whirl, and whisk, and snap his fingers! He looked as if he was made of India-rubber, filled with quicksilver. And then he had a very good voice and a fair notion of singing, and right merrily he could troll forth some of those stirring sea-songs which have animated the gallant tars of Old England to perform deeds of the greatest heroism, and have served to beguile and soothe many an hour of their existence on the ocean, far away from home and all its softening influences.

There were several other boys on board the frigate, among whom, naturally, True Blue took the lead. He was good-natured to all of them.

If they quarrelled with him, as some would, and would insist on having it out with him in a fight with fists, he generally managed to make them very cautious about trying the same experiment again.

There was one big fellow, Gregory Gipples by name, who set himself up as a sort of leader among the other boys as soon as he came on board, though he had never before been at sea. He was a big hulking fellow; and as he had a certain amount of cleverness about him, he tried to make it appear that he knew a great deal more about things than he really did. True Blue instinctively discovered that he was a braggart and inclined to be a bully.

Another boy was of a totally different character. At first sight, so delicate did he look that it seemed surprising that little Harry Hartland had been allowed to come to sea at all. But boys were wanted, and the officers who had to pa.s.s them were not very particular; besides, on further examination, Harry was stronger than he looked, and the bright expression of his countenance showed that he would probably make up by intelligence what he lacked in physical power. He had also been carefully and religiously educated, and his habits were very refined compared with those of most of the other boys. They soon learned to call him "Gentleman Harry," though he did not seem pleased with the appellation. He was very silent as to his own early history. He said that his mother was a widow, and that he did not remember his father.

He knew that she would not have the means of supporting him, so he wished to come to sea, and with the help of a friend of his own he had, after much exertion, accomplished his object.

"You couldn't have done better--that you couldn't, Harry!" exclaimed True Blue, to whom he had confided thus much of his early history. "I wouldn't have to go and live in smoky cities, or to ride along dirty roads, or to have to look only at sheep, or cows, or horses, not to be the greatest lord in the land. I have never been much on sh.o.r.e, and maybe haven't seen the most beautiful parts of it; but I was heartily glad to get afloat again. There you are on sh.o.r.e stuck in the same place day after day. What does it matter whether it's a calm or a gale, it doesn't make you go faster or slower. And if you want to go away, then you have to get on the outside of a coach, and be covered from truck to kelson with dust, and a precious good chance of a capsize and getting your neck broke. Now, when I was living ash.o.r.e with Paul Pringle's mother and people, there sprung up one night a gale of wind which blew down the church steeple, I don't know how many big tall trees, and sent a large part of the thatched roof off the cottage, besides scattering the tiles of the houses right and left, and toppling down numbers of chimney-pots. There were half a dozen people killed, I heard, that night, and ever so many hurt."

Harry smiled.

"It is lucky that you think so, and I am quite ready to agree that a sailor's life is one of the best to choose, seeing that we shall have to spend the best part of ours afloat," he answered. "But what I hold is, that we shouldn't think meanly of those who have to live always on sh.o.r.e."

"I don't know as to that, Harry," said Billy quickly. "We shouldn't think ill of them, I'll allow; but who can help pitying them? That's all I say."

The conversation of the two boys was interrupted by an order which True Blue received to go aloft and take a lookout round the horizon. This was a post of honour to which he had been especially appointed, on account of the sharpness of his vision, and the accuracy with which he noted and could describe the various sail which might be in sight. Paul Pringle watched him with pride. Up--up--up he went. The topmast shrouds were reached--topgallant masthead; the royal mast was swarmed up, and then he stood on the main truck, holding on by the staff of the vane, no longer the little child, the pet of the s.h.i.+p's company, but a thorough, fearless young seaman--not the less, however, the darling of the crew.

CHAPTER TEN.

Day had just broken on the world of waters. It was at that time of the year when there is but little night. The water was smooth, the air soft and balmy. Gradually the grey dawn warmed up as the approaching sun cast some ruddy streaks in the eastern sky. It was True Blue's watch on deck, and he was at his post on the truck at the main-topgallant-mast.

By slow degrees the rich glow increased. He turned his head round to every point of the compa.s.s. The Start Point was just in sight, bearing about east by north, distant five or six leagues. When his eye came to the south-east, it rested there steadily for a moment, and then, putting his hand to his mouth, he shouted, "Sail ho!" with a prolonged cadence, pointing in the direction where he saw her. The officer of the watch hailed to know what she was. "A full-rigged s.h.i.+p, sir," was his unhesitating reply, although even from where he stood her topgallant-sails alone could be seen, and to a landsman's eye nothing distinguishable would have been visible.

The Captain soon came on deck. True Blue kept his glance on the stranger, that he might note immediately any change in her course. She was standing across the Channel and drawing nearer.

"I trust that she is one of the frigates of which we are in search, Mr Brine," said the Captain. "We'll soon learn. Make sail on the s.h.i.+p."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the first lieutenant with alacrity. "All hands make sail!"

"All hands make sail!" shouted the boatswain, putting his silver call to his mouth, and sounding a shrill whistle. "All hands make sail!--rouse up there, rouse up!--an enemy in sight, boys!"

The men sprang from their hammocks, and, shaking themselves rapidly into their clothes, were in another instant on deck. Every inch of canvas the frigate could carry was soon got on her, and she bore up in chase.

Another order quickly followed. It was, "Clear s.h.i.+p for action!"

Never was an order obeyed with more alacrity. The stranger appeared also to be standing under a press of sail, and steering to the southward of east.

"She wishes to escape us altogether, or is not quite ready for action,"

observed the Captain to Mr Brine.

"She seems to be putting her best foot foremost, at all events,"

answered the first lieutenant, taking a look at the stranger through his gla.s.s, for she could now be seen clearly from the deck. "She looks like a frigate of much about our size; and I have little doubt, by the cut of her sails, she is French."

"I have great hopes that she is, and more, that she is one of the very frigates we have been on the lookout for," said the Captain. "What do you think, master?" he added, turning to that officer, Mr Handlead, who stood near.

"A Johnny c.r.a.paud, sir," he answered quickly. "There's no doubt about it; and to my mind the villain is making all sail to be off, because he doesn't like the look of us."

"I trust that we shall overtake her, and take her, too, master," said Captain Garland. "I think that we are already gaining on her. The frigate slips well through the water."

The crew on the forecastle were carrying on a conversation much in the same style. "Bless her heart, she is walking along at a good rate,"

observed Abel Bush as he looked over the bows. "The old girl's got as pretty a pair of heels of her own as you'd wish to see."