Paul Gerrard Part 16

To Reuben, Paul was more communicative.

"But do you know which were the men who came when you called for help?"

asked the former.

Paul could not be positive as to one of them, on account of the darkness and confusion.

"Then I must find out, my lad, and make all things square," muttered Reuben, as he walked away.

The victors had plenty of hard work in putting the prize to rights, in manning her and their own s.h.i.+p, and in looking after the prisoners.

However, not long after they had lost sight of land, a sail hove in sight. Chase was made, and the stranger proved to be a Spanish schooner. She quickly hauled down her colours, and a boat was sent to bring her captain on board. The Don stood, hat in hand, trembling in every joint, at the gangway, his long sallow face drawn down to twice its usual length, expecting to be carried off a prisoner, and to have his vessel destroyed. As Captain Walford was unable to come on deck, Mr Order received him. If it had been possible for a Don to throw up his hat and to shout for joy, the Spanish skipper would have done it when the first-lieutenant told him, that if he would undertake to carry the prisoners back to Puerto Cabello in his schooner, he might go free.

He did not skip, or throw up his hat, or sing, but advancing with a deep bow, one hand holding his hat, and the other pressed on his heart, he gave the lieutenant an embrace and then retired to the gangway. Mr Order did not exhibit any sign of satisfaction at this proceeding, but it was too ridiculous to make him angry; so he told him to get on board and prepare for the reception of his countrymen. The Spanish prisoners were soon tumbled into the boats, and heartily glad were the English seamen to be rid of them.

"Their habits are filthy, and as to manners, they have none," was the opinion generally formed of them on board.

"Now, if we'd have had as many mounseers, they'd have been fiddling and singing away as merry as crickets, and been good sport to us--long afore this," observed Reuben to Paul, as the schooner made sail to the southward.

Although the captain's hurts were severe, he was, after some days, able to come on deck. He looked pale and weak, but there was fire in his eye and a smile on his lip as he glanced at the captured frigate sailing at a few cables' length abeam.

"Let the people come aft, Mr Order," he said in a cheerful voice.

The crew were soon a.s.sembled, hat in hand, looking up to their captain with eager countenances as he opened his lips.

"My lads," he said, "I have been unable before to thank you, as I do from my heart, for the gallant way in which you carried out my wishes the other night when you re-took yonder frigate, so disgracefully held by the Spaniards. Where all did well, it is difficult to select those most deserving of praise, yet to the second-lieutenant and the boatswain and gunner my thanks are especially due, as they are to the surgeon for the able support he gave me. They will, I trust, receive the reward they merit in due time; but there is another person to whom I am most grateful, and whom I have it in my power to reward, as he fully deserves, immediately. To his presence of mind I find the preservation of the lives of all on board the prize is due, and I fully believe, that had it not been for his courage, I should not have been conscious of the glorious achievement we have accomplished. Paul Gerrard, come up here.

Accept this dirk from me as a slight token of grat.i.tude, and from henceforth consider yourself a quarter-deck officer--a mids.h.i.+pman."

Paul, his eyes sparkling, his countenance beaming, and his heart beating, sprang forward, helped on by the arms of the crew, all sympathising with his feelings. The captain shook him warmly by the hand before giving him his dirk--an example followed by all the officers and mids.h.i.+pmen, and by none more cordially than by Devereux and O'Grady.

They then took him by the arm and hurried him below, where he found a suit of uniform, in which they speedily clothed him and returned with him in triumph on deck. Their appearance was the signal for the crew to give three as hearty cheers as ever burst from the throats of a man-of-war's crew. Paul's heart was too full to speak, and he could with difficulty stammer out his thanks to his captain. He felt indeed as if he had already reached the summit of his ambition. The captain reminded him, however, that he had a long way yet to climb, by observing that he had only just got his foot on the lower ratline, but that, if he went on as he had begun, he would certainly, if he lived, get to the top. The advice was indeed, from beginning to end, very good, but need not be repeated. Paul was so cordially received in the mids.h.i.+pmen's berth, that he soon felt himself perfectly at home, though he did not forget that he had a short time before served at the table at which he now sat.

The frigates arrived without accident at Jamaica, where the officers and crew received all the honours and marks of respect they so justly merited. The _Cerberus_ required no repairs, and the prize was quickly got ready for sea. Captain Walford, however, suffered so severely from his wounds, that he was ordered home to recruit his strength. Devereux and O'Grady had never entirely recovered from their illness, and they also obtained leave to go home. Paul was very sorry to lose them, not being aware how much he was himself knocked up by the hards.h.i.+ps he had gone through. Three or four days before the s.h.i.+p was to sail, the doctor came into the berth, and looking hard at him, desired to feel his pulse.

"I thought so," he remarked. "You feel rather queer, my boy, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, very ill," said Paul; "I don't know what is the matter with me."

"But I do," answered the doctor. "A fever is coming on, and the sooner you are out of this the better. I'll speak to the captain about you."

The fever did come on. Paul was sent to the hospital on sh.o.r.e, where he was tenderly nursed by Devereux, aided by O'Grady; the _Cerberus_, meantime, having sailed on a cruise under the command of Mr Order. As no s.h.i.+p of war was going home, Captain Walford took his pa.s.sage in a sugar-laden merchantman, having Devereux and O'Grady with him, and he got Paul also invalided home. Paul's chief source of delight was the thought that he should present himself to his mother and sisters as a real veritable mids.h.i.+pman, in the uniform he so often in his dreams had worn, and of the happiness he should afford them. Their s.h.i.+p was not a very fast one, though she could carry a vast number of hogsheads of sugar, and was remarkably comfortable. The captain was more like a kind father and a good-natured tutor than most skippers, and they all had a very pleasant time of it. Paul had had no time for study while he was a s.h.i.+p-boy, and so the captain advised him to apply himself to navigation and to general reading; and he did so with so much good will, that, during the voyage, he made considerable progress. They were nearing the mouth of the Channel.

"In another week we shall be at home," said Paul.

"Yes, it will be jolly," answered Devereux. "You must come and see me, you know, at the Hall, and I'll introduce you to my family, and they'll make you amends somehow or other, if they can; they must, I am determined."

"Thank you heartily, Devereux," answered Paul; "but the short time I am likely to be at home I must spend with my mother, and though I know your kind wishes, people generally will not look with much respect on a person who was till lately a mere s.h.i.+p-boy."

"No fear of that, Gerrard; but we'll see, we'll see," answered Devereux.

"A sail on the weather bow," shouted the look-out from aloft, "standing across our course."

The West Indiaman, the _Guava_ was her name, went floundering on as before; the master, however, who had gone aloft, kept his gla.s.s on the stranger. After some time he came down, his countenance rather paler than usual.

"She has tacked and is standing towards us," he said, addressing Captain Walford.

"Sorry to hear it, Mr Turtle. Is she big or little?"

"Why, sir, she has very square yards, and has much the look of a foreign man-of-war," answered the master.

"Umph! If she is Spanish we may beat her off, but if she proves French, she may be a somewhat tough customer; however, you will try, of course, Mr Turtle."

"If you advise resistance, we'll make it, sir, and do our best," said Captain Turtle, who, though fat, had no lack of spirit.

"By all means. Turn the hands up, load the guns, and open the arm-chest," was the answer.

The crew of the _Guava_, which was rather of a mixed character--blacks, mulattoes, Malays, Portuguese, and other foreigners,--were not very eager for the fight, but when they saw the spirit of the naval officers, especially of the young mids.h.i.+pmen, they loaded the guns, stuck the pistols in their belts, and girded on their cutla.s.ses to prepare for the fight.

The _Guava_, of course, could not hope to escape by flight, so the safest course was to put a bold face on the matter, and to stand on.

The stranger rapidly approached. There could no longer be any doubt as to her nationality, though no colours flew from her peak. She was p.r.o.nounced to be French, though whether a national s.h.i.+p or a privateer was doubtful.

"If she is a privateer and we are taken, our chances of fair treatment are very small," observed Captain Walford.

"It will be hard lines for the skipper, after performing so gallant an action, to fall into the hands of the enemy," observed O'Grady. "For my part, I'd sooner blow up the s.h.i.+p."

"Not much to be gained by that," answered Devereux. "Let us fight like men and yield with dignity, if we are overmatched."

"The right sentiment," said Captain Walford. "There is no disgrace in being conquered by a superior force."

"As I fear that we shall be," muttered the master of the _Guava_. "Now, if I'd been left alone, I'd have knocked under at once. We've not the shadow of a chance."

"Then it's not like Captain Turtle's own shadow," whispered O'Grady, who could even at that moment indulge in a joke.

Matters were indeed becoming serious. The stranger was, it was soon seen, a powerful vessel, cither a large corvette or a small frigate, against which the heavily-rigged, ill-manned and slightly-armed merchant s.h.i.+p, had scarcely a chance. Still, such chance as there was, the English resolved to try. The order was given to fire high at the enemy's rigging, and the rest of the crew stood prepared to make all possible sail directly any of the Frenchman's spars were knocked away.

Paul had been so accustomed to believe that whatever his captain undertook he would succeed in doing, that he had no fears on the subject. The _Guava_ rolled on, the stranger approached, close-hauled.

Captain Turtle, with a sigh, p.r.o.nounced her to be a privateer, and a large frigate-built s.h.i.+p. She would have to pa.s.s, however, some little way astern of the _Guava_, if she continued steering as she was then doing. Suddenly she kept away, and fired a broadside from long guns, the shot flying among the _Guava's_ rigging and doing much damage. The merchantman's guns could not reply with any effect, her shot falling short. The Frenchman saw his advantage. His shot came rattling on board the _Guava_, her spars and blocks falling thickly from aloft. At length the former was seen drawing near, evidently to range up alongside; and many of the crew, fancying that resistance was hopeless, ran below to secure their best clothes and valuables, while the officers, with heavy hearts, throwing their swords overboard, saw Captain Turtle haul down the colours. The Frenchmen were soon on board.

They proved to be, not regular combatants, but rascally privateers; fellows who go forth to plunder their fellow-men, not for the sake of overcoming the enemies of their country and obtaining peace, but for the greed of gain, careless of the loss and suffering they inflict. These were of the worst sort. Their delight was unbounded, when they found that they had not only taken a rich prize, for sugar at that time fetched a high price in France, but had taken at one haul a post-captain and several officers, for besides the three mids.h.i.+pmen, there were two lieutenants, a surgeon, and master, going home for their health. The privateer's-men began by plundering the vessel and stripping the crew of every article they possessed about them, except the clothes they stood in. They took the property of the officers, but did not, at first, take anything from their persons. Captain Walford retained his coolness and self-possession, notwithstanding the annoyances he suffered, and the insults he received. The other officers imitated him. They were all transferred to the privateer.

"To what French port are we to be carried?" he asked of his captain.

"To Brest--and it will be a long time before you see salt-water after that," was the answer.

"Probably never--if we are not to be liberated till France conquers England," said Captain Walford, quietly.

"Sa-a-a, you may be free, then, sooner than you expect," cried the Frenchman.

In about five days, the privateer, with her rich prize, entered Brest harbour. The prisoners were treated on landing with very scant ceremony, and were thrust into the common prison--the officers in one small room and the men in another. In those days the amenities of warfare were little attended to. It was all rough, b.l.o.o.d.y, desperate, cruel work. In truth, it is seldom otherwise. The prisoners were not kept long at Brest, but one fine morning in spring, after a not over luxurious breakfast of black bread, salt fish, and thin coffee, were mustered outside the prison to begin their march into the interior. The mids.h.i.+pmen kept together and amused themselves by singing, joking, and telling stories, keeping up their spirits as well as they could. Their guards were rough, unfeeling fellows, who paid no attention to their comforts, but made them trudge on in rain or suns.h.i.+ne, sometimes bespattered with mud, and at others covered with dust, parched with thirst, and ready to drop from the heat. The country people, however, looked on them with compa.s.sion, and many a gla.s.s of wine, a cup of coffee, and a handful of fruits and cakes, were offered to them as they pa.s.sed through the villages on their road.

"Och, if some of those pretty little villagers who are so kind with their cakes would just increase their compa.s.sion and help us to get out of the claws of these ugly blackguards, I'd be grateful to them from the bottom of my soul to the end of my days," said O'Grady to Paul, as they approached a hamlet in a hilly, thickly-wooded part of the country.

It was in the afternoon, and, although they generally marched on much later, to their surprise, the captain of their guard, for some reason best known to himself, called a halt. Instead of being placed in prison, as there was none in the village, they were billeted about in different houses, with one or two guards over each. Paul and O'Grady found themselves, together with Reuben Cole and two other men, in a neat house on the borders of the village. They were the first disposed of, so that where their companions were lodged they could not tell. The people of the house did not appear to regard their guards with friendly eyes, so that they concluded that they were not attached to the present order of things.

"See that you render them up safe to us to-morrow morning," said the captain to an old gentleman, who appeared to be the master of the house.