From Powder Monkey to Admiral Part 32

"Father likes interest," he observed to Bill, who was sitting by him at the time, and helping him in his somewhat unaccustomed task; "that'll make him more ready to do what I want, though whether he'll ever get the money is neither here nor there."

"But if you promise to pay him, you are bound to do so," observed Bill.

"You need not have made the promise, then you could have waited to know whether he required interest."

"Well, I've written it, and can't scratch it out now," said Tom. "It will come to the same thing in the end."

Bill had some doubts whether Tom's father would make the allowance Tom asked for; but if he were a rich man, as Tom a.s.serted, he might do so, and therefore he said nothing.

The letter, after being folded several times and creased all over, was at length closed, sealed, and addressed, by which time it had a.s.sumed a somewhat grimy appearance. Tom got the cook's mate, who was going on sh.o.r.e, to post his letter, having told him that he expected to receive a good sum of money by return, and promising him a part of the proceeds.

Bill and Jack looked forward to the reply with almost as much interest as Tom himself, neither of them feeling that they should be at all jealous, should it produce the satisfactory result he antic.i.p.ated.

Meantime, every possible exertion was made to get the s.h.i.+p ready for sea. Mr Saltwell was very busy superintending all the operations.

Bill, however, found that he was not forgotten, from a kind word or two which on several occasions the first lieutenant bestowed upon him. As Tom was not aware of this, he amused himself by telling Bill that Mr Saltwell would not trouble himself more about him--that he must be content to remain a powder monkey until he got big enough to be rated as an ordinary seaman.

"Better than being cook's boy," cried Jack, who could never stand hearing Bill sneered at. "He's a precious deal more likely to be made a mids.h.i.+pman than you are, even though your father is a rich man and rides in his carriage, as you say."

Tom retorted, and Jack looked as if he was much inclined to knock him over, when the quarrel was cut short by the appearance of the cook's mate, who dragged off Tom to help him clean the galley and scrub the pots and pans.

Day after day went by. The frigate was reported ready for sea, and her complement of men having been filled up, she only waited for her captain to come on board to continue her cruise.

Still Tom had received no reply from his father. "Perhaps he or the Admiralty may have written to the captain, and when he comes aboard I shall be placed in my proper position," he observed in confidence to Bill.

"I hope so, but I'm afraid there will be but little time for you to get a proper uniform and an outfit," was the answer.

"I'm not much afraid of that; the tailors won't take long in rigging me out," answered Tom.

Soon after this the captain came on board, and Tom, greatly to his disappointment, was not sent for. Just, however, as the s.h.i.+p was going out into the Sound, the mail-bag arrived, and a letter addressed, "Thomas Fletcher, H.M.S. _Thisbe_," was handed him. He eagerly broke the seal. As he was no great hand at reading writing, he was obliged to ask Bill to a.s.sist him in deciphering the contents. He had, however, to rub his eyes several times before he could make them out, even with his messmate's help.

"It's not from father at all," he observed, after looking at the paper all over. "S. Fletcher must be my biggest brother, and he always gave me more kicks than ha'pence."

The letter began:--

"Dear Tom,--Our father received yours of the third instant, as the first intimation of your being alive since your unaccountable disappearance.

You have caused us by your wicked proceeding no end of grief and trouble, and, as far as we can make out by your wretchedly written epistle, you do not seem to be at all ashamed of yourself, or sorry for what you have done; and our father bids me to say, that as you have made your bed, you must lie in it. As to making you an allowance of thirty or forty pounds a year, and getting you placed on the quarter-deck, the notion is too ridiculous to be entertained. I must tell you, too, our father has failed, smashed up completely, won't pay sixpence in the pound. As we find it a hard matter to live, he is not likely to make you an allowance of thirty pounds, or thirty pence a year, or to trouble himself by going to the Admiralty with the certainty of being sent away with a flea in his ear; so you see, Tom, you must just grin and bear it.

If you don't get killed, I would advise you--should you ever wish to come home--to make your appearance with your pockets full of the prize-money you talk of, and you will then perhaps receive a welcome, and be well entertained as long as it lasts by the rest of the family, as also by--

"Your affectionate brother--

"S. Fletcher.

"P.S. Until then I would advise you not to show your nose in this neighbourhood."

"He always was an ill-natured fellow, was my brother Sam," exclaimed Tom, not seeming concerned at the news of his father's ruin, while, crumpling up the letter, he thrust it into his pocket. "I feel inclined to hang myself or jump overboard."

"Don't think of doing anything so bad," said Bill. "You are no worse off than you were before. All you've got to do is to attend to your duty, and try to please those above you."

"The cook and the cook's mate," growled poor Tom. "It isn't a pleasant task to have to scrub saucepans and clean out the galley."

"But it is your duty, and while you have to do it it would be best to try and do it as well as you can," observed Bill. "Neither the cook nor the cook's mate are bad fellows, and you will gain their good-will by showing a pleasant temper, and working as hard as you can."

"All very well for you to preach," said Tom; "but there's no help for it, I suppose, and so I must make the best of my hard lot."

"That's just what I'm advising," said Bill; though he did not add, "You must remember you brought it upon yourself by running away from home."

The boatswain's pipe summoned all hands on deck to make sail, and the frigate, standing down the Sound, at once put to sea.

A bright look-out was kept for enemies; all hands, from the captain downwards, being eager to secure another prize, even though they might have to fight a tough battle to win her. The captain's orders were to capture, sink, burn, destroy, or drive on sh.o.r.e any of the enemy's vessels he could come up with. With this object in view the _Thisbe_ continued to cruise, now down the Channel, now up again, keeping as much as possible in sight of the French coast. She had been some time at sea, however, without having made any prizes; for although she had chased several vessels, they, having espied her in time, had managed to escape by running close in sh.o.r.e, under strong batteries, or getting up harbours where they could not be followed. At last one morning, as the frigate had just made the land, from which she had been standing off during the night, a sail was seen inside of her--that is, between her and the French coast, steering to the eastward, apparently bound down Channel.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A CUTTING-OUT EXPEDITION--BILL DISCOVERS AN OLD FRIEND.

The wind being very light, every st.i.tch of canvas the _Thisbe_ could carry was packed on her, and her course altered so as to cut off the stranger. As the sun rose, and its beams lighted up the white canvas of the latter, she was p.r.o.nounced to be a full-rigged s.h.i.+p, either a man-of-war or privateer, or a large merchantman, but at the distance she was off it was difficult to determine whether she was a frigate or a flush-decked vessel. Captain Martin hoped that she would prove to be a frigate, and an antagonist worthy of engaging. She must have seen the _Thisbe_ approaching, but either took her for a friend or believed that she was well able to cope with her, as she did not alter her course.

Captain Martin calculated that the _Thisbe_ would be up with the stranger before noon. Every telescope on board was directed towards her. Bill wished that he had one, that he might form an opinion as to what she was. He heard some officers talking, and they declared that she was undoubtedly French, and was either a large man-of-war corvette, or a privateer. If such were the case, and the _Thisbe_ could get up to her, she would be captured to a certainty, though she would probably fight, and try to knock away some of the _Thisbe's_ spars, so as to effect her escape. The wind, which had hitherto been blowing from the southward and south, suddenly s.h.i.+fted to the east. As soon as the stranger felt it, she was seen to haul her tacks on board, brace up her yards, and stand away towards the land.

"She's going to run on sh.o.r.e," exclaimed Jack, who had been watching her as eagerly as any one, when his duty would allow him to take a look-out.

"More likely she knows of a harbour or battery in there, and is running in for shelter," answered Bill.

"We shan't be able to take her then," said Jack. "I was making sure we should have her as our prize."

"I won't say we shan't take her, notwithstanding," observed Bill.

"Perhaps we shall fight the battery and her too, if she brings up under one. Or if she runs into a harbour, the boats may be sent in after her to bring her out."

As soon as the stranger was seen standing to the southward, the _Thisbe_ also hauled up to continue the pursuit, but the chase was still beyond the reach of her guns.

"We shan't catch her after all," said Jack, who had taken another look at the stranger some time after she had altered her course.

"I don't see that we have not still a chance of coming up with her,"

answered Bill. "The captain thinks so, or he would not be keeping after her. Perhaps she may be becalmed closer in with the land, or we may draw near enough to knock away her masts. We have gained a mile on her during the last hour. I would always try to succeed while a single chance remains, and I would never knock under to an enemy while I had a stick standing, or a plank beneath my feet."

Still, notwithstanding Bill's sanguine hopes of success, as the day wore on there seemed every probability that the French s.h.i.+p would make good her escape. It was now seen that she was steering for a harbour, the mouth of which could be distinguished from the deck of the _Thisbe_, with a battery on one side.

"Our bow chasers will reach her, Mr Saltwell," cried the captain, at length.

The order to fire was eagerly obeyed. The frigate, however, had to yaw for the purpose. One of the shot was seen to go right through the sails of the chase, but the other fell on one side.

The guns were quickly reloaded, and were fired immediately the s.h.i.+p was kept away sufficiently for the purpose. Again one of the shot took effect, but what damage was done it was impossible to say, and the chase stood on as before.

The manoeuvre was repeated several times, causing the frigate to lose ground; but a fortunate shot would have enabled her quickly to regain it. Though several of the _Thisbe's_ shot took effect, the chase continued her course, firing in return from a gun run out astern; but none of the shot struck her pursuer. At last, however, the chase ran past the battery, which shortly afterwards opened fire. Captain Martin returned it with such effect that two of the guns were silenced, when the frigate's head was put off sh.o.r.e, and she stood away to avoid the risk of being becalmed should the wind fall, as was very likely, towards evening.

"I say, Bill, I really believe that's the very place we got away from on our raft," said Jack.

"No doubt about it," answered Bill. "I remember the look of the land to the eastward, and I feel pretty sure I could find my way up the harbour."

Bill had scarcely said this when he heard his name called, and he was told to go to the first lieutenant.