Chapter Twenty One.
IT was not until three or four days after the ship had sailed from Martinique that the captain spoke to me. I had during that time remained in my cot, which was hung up in the fore-cabin, and when the surgeon dressed my wounds it was only in the presence of Bob Cross. On the fourth morning after our sailing, the captain came inside of the screen, which was hung round my cot:— “Well, Mr Keene,” said he in a very kind voice, “how are you?”
“Much better, sir, I thank you; and hope you will look over the great liberty I ventured to take for the honour of the service.”
“Why,” replied the captain, smiling, “I think you have been sufficiently punished already for your temerity; I appreciate your motive of action and feel obliged to you for your great zeal towards the service and towards me. The only objection (I may say annoyance) I have on the subject is, the mystery and secrecy compelled to be observed in consequence of your taking my place; and still more, that one of the seamen of the ship should be a party to the secret.”
“I certainly did not consider the consequences as I ought to have done, sir, when I ventured to act as I did,” replied I.
“Say no more about it, Mr Keene. I am very sorry to hear of your mother’s death; but it was not, I believe, unexpected.”
“No, sir,” replied I; “and therefore the shock has not been so great.”
“Well, Mr Keene, of course it is from the interest I took in your mother that I was induced to take you under my protection, and her death will make no difference in that point, so long as you conduct yourself as you have hitherto done. You have now created a strong interest for yourself by your good conduct, and I shall not lose sight of you. How many months have you yet to serve before your time is out?”
“I have served five years and seven months, as far as I can recollect.”
“So I thought. Now, Mr Keene, it was because I thought of you that I did not fill up the lieutenant’s vacancy which was made by the death of Captain W and the promotion of the commander and my first lieutenant. As soon as you are well, I will give you an acting order as lieutenant of this ship; and, as we are now on a sort of roving commission, I have no doubt but that you will have served your time, and found the means of passing, before we join the admiral; your promotion will, under such circumstances, be, I have no doubt, confirmed; so all you have to do now is to get well as fast as you can. Good-bye.”
The captain gave me a most gracious nod, and then went outside of the screen, giving me no time for thanks. I was, indeed, overjoyed; not so much at the promotion as at the change in the captain’s manner towards me: a change so palpable that it filled me with the fondest anticipations. I remained for a long while reflecting upon my future prospects. As a lieutenant of the same ship I should be more in contact with him: he could now converse and take notice of me without its being considered remarkable; nay, he could be intimate with me. I resolved to be most careful of my conduct, so as not to alarm his pride by the least familiarity, and hoped, eventually, to play my cards so as to obtain my earnest wish; but I felt that there was a great deal of ground to go over first, and that the greatest circumspection was necessary. I felt that I had still to raise myself in his opinion and in the opinion of the world to a much higher position than I was in at present, before I could expect that Captain Delmar would, virtually, acknowledge me as his son. I felt that I had to wade through blood, and stand the chance of thousands of balls and bullets in my professional career, before I could do all this; a bright vista of futurity floated before me and, in the far distance, I felt myself in the possession of my ambition, and with my eyes still fixed upon it I dropped fast asleep, revelling still in the same dreams which I had indulged in when awake.
In a fortnight I was quite recovered; my wounds had healed up, and I now walked about. Having had my uniform altered by the ship’s tailor, and procured an epaulet from one of the lieutenants, I took possession of my cabin in the gun-room, and was warmly received by my new messmates; but I did not return to my duty for nearly a month, on account of a little lameness still remaining, and which the surgeon declared was often the case after the yellow fever!!
I ought to have observed, that when my mother was so indulgent as to commit suicide for my sake, she had taken every precaution, and the letter of my grandmother informed Captain Delmar that my mother had bequeathed me 12,000 pounds in the three per cents, which she had laid by from her business, and that therefore there was no longer any occasion that I should be an expense to Captain Delmar. It must not, however, be supposed, from my grandmother stating this, that Captain Delmar was at all mercenary or stingy; on the contrary, considering that, as the second son of a nobleman, he had only 1,000 pounds per annum besides his pay, he was exceedingly liberal (although not extravagant) in all money matters.
At last I was well enough to return to my duty; and glad I was to be once more walking the quarter-deck, not as before, on the lee, but on the weather side, with an epaulet on my shoulder. Strange to say, there was not a midshipman in the ship (although there were so many) who had served so long as I had, and in consequence there was not any heart-burning or jealousy at my promotion, and I continued on the best terms with my old mess-mates, although gradually lessening the intimacy which existed between us. But that was not intentional on my part; it was the effect of my promotion, and removal from the berth of a set of lads to the company of the senior and older officers. I was now a man, and had the feelings and thoughts of a man. My frolics and tricks were discarded with the midshipman’s coat; and in respecting my new rank I respected myself.
Now that I walked on the same side of the deck, Captain Delmar very often entered into conversation with me; and although at first it was with caution on his part, yet, when he found that I never presumed, and was, invariably, most respectful, he became on much more intimate terms with me.
During three months we continued cruising about without falling in with or having received any intelligence of the French frigate which we were sent in quest of; at last Captain Delmar resolved to change the cruising ground, and we ran up to ten degrees of latitude further north.
As we were running up, we fell in with an American brig, and brought her to; a boat was sent for the captain, who, when he came on board, was interrogated by Captain Delmar, as to his having seen or heard of any French vessel on that coast. As the conversation took place on the quarter-deck, and I was officer of the watch, I can repeat it.
“Well,” replied the American through his nose, “I reckon there is a Frenchman in these parts?”
“Have you fallen in with her?” inquired Captain Delmar.
“Well, I may say I have; for I lay alongside of her in Cartagena when I was taking in my cargo of hides. You haven’t such a thing as a spar as will make me a pole top-gallant mast, captain, have you?”
“Is she large or small?”
“Well, captain, I don’t care whether the spar be large or small; I’ve two carpenters on board, and I’ll soon dub it down into shape.”
“I inquired about the vessel—I did not refer to the spar,” replied Captain Delmar, haughtily.
“And I referred to the spar, which is my business, and not to the vessel, which is no consarn of mine,” replied the American captain. “You see, master, we have both our wants; you want information, I want a spar: I have no objection to a fair swop.”
“Well,” replied Captain Delmar, rather amused, “give me the information and you shall have the spar.”
“That’s agreed.”
“Send for the carpenter, and desire him to get out a small spar, Mr —,” said Captain Delmar to the first lieutenant.
“Well, captain, that looks like business, and so now I’ll go on. The Frenchman is as large as you; may be,” said he, looking round the deck, “he may be a bit larger, but you won’t mind that, I suppose.”
“Did you leave her in port when you sailed?”
“I reckon she was off two days before me.”
“And how many days is it since you sailed?”
“Just four days, I calculate.”
“And did you hear where she was going to?”
“Yes, I did, and I’ve a notion I could put my finger upon her now, if I choosed. Captain, you haven’t got a coil of two-inch which you could lend me—I ain’t got a topsail brace to reeve and mine are very queer just now. I reckon they’ve been turned end for end so often, that there’s an end of them.”
“You say that you know where the vessel is—where is she?”
“Captain, that’s telling—can’t I have the two inch?”
“We have not a whole coil of two-inch left, sir,” said the master, touching his hat. “We might spare him enough for a pair of new braces.”
“Well, well, I’m reasonable altogether, and if so be you haven’t got it, I don’t expect it. It’s very odd now, but I can’t just now remember the place that the French vessel was going to; it’s slipped clean out of my memory.”
“Perhaps the two-inch might help your memory,” replied the captain. “Mr Smith, let the rope be got up and put into the boat.”
“Well,” said the American captain, “as you say, mister, it may help my memory. It’s not the first time that I’ve freshened a man’s memory with a bit of two-inch myself,” continued he, grinning at his own joke; “but I don’t see it coming.”
“I have ordered it to be put in the boat,” replied Captain Delmar, haughtily: “my orders are not disobeyed, nor is my word doubted.”
“Not by them as knows you, I dare say, captain, but you’re a stranger to me; I don’t think I ask much, after all—a bit of spar and a bit of rope—just to tell you where you may go and take a fine vessel, and pocket a nation lot of dollars as prize-money. Well, there’s the rope, and now I’ll tell you. She was going off Berbice or Surinam, to look after the West Indiamen, who were on the coast, or expected on it, I don’t know which. There you’ll find her, as sure as I stand here; but I think that she is a bit bigger than this vessel—you don’t mind that, I dare say.”
“You may go on board now, sir,” said Captain Delmar.
“Well, thank ye, captain, and good luck to you.”
The American captain went down the side; and as soon as our boat returned, and was hoisted up, we made all sail for the coast of Demerara.
“She must be a fine vessel,” said Captain Delmar to me, as he was walking the deck,—“a very fine vessel, if she is bigger than we are.”
“You will excuse me, Captain Delmar, if I venture to observe that there was an expression in the eye of the American, when he said a bit bigger, which made me take it into my head, that in saying so, he was only deceiving us. The Americans are not very partial to us, and would be glad of any revenge.”
“That may be, Mr Keene; but I do not see that he can be deceiving us, by making her out to be larger, as it is putting us on our guard. Had he said that she was smaller, it would then have been deceiving us.”
“I did not take it in that sense, sir,” replied I. “He said a bit bigger; now, I can’t help thinking that a bit bigger was meant to deceive us, and that it will prove that the Frenchman is a line-of-battle ship, and not a frigate: he wished to leave us under the impression that it was a larger frigate than our own and no more.”
“It may be so,” replied Captain Delmar, thoughtfully; “at all events, Mr Keene, I am obliged to you for the suggestion.”
The captain took two or three more turns fore and aft in silence and then quitted the deck.