Held Fast for England:
A Tale of the Siege of Gibraltar (1779-83)
By G. A. Henty.
| [Preface]. | |
| [Chapter 1]: | "Something Like An Adventure." |
| [Chapter 2]: | A Great Change. |
| [Chapter 3]: | An Unexpected Journey. |
| [Chapter 4]: | Preparations For A Voyage. |
| [Chapter 5]: | A French Privateer. |
| [Chapter 6]: | The Rock Fortress. |
| [Chapter 7]: | Troubles Ahead. |
| [Chapter 8]: | The Siege Begins. |
| [Chapter 9]: | The Antelope. |
| [Chapter 10]: | A Cruise In A Privateer. |
| [Chapter 11]: | Cutting Out A Prize. |
| [Chapter 12]: | A Rich Prize. |
| [Chapter 13]: | Oranges And Lemons. |
| [Chapter 14]: | A Welcome Cargo. |
| [Chapter 15]: | Bob's Mission. |
| [Chapter 16]: | A Cruise In The Brilliant. |
| [Chapter 17]: | The Floating Batteries. |
[Preface].
The Siege of Gibraltar stands almost alone in the annals of warfare, alike in its duration and in the immense preparations made, by the united powers of France and Spain, for the capture of the fortress. A greater number of guns were employed than in any operation up to that time; although in number, and still more in calibre, the artillery then used have in, modern times, been thrown into the shade by the sieges of Sebastopol and Paris. Gibraltar differs, however, from these sieges, inasmuch as the defence was a successful one and, indeed, at no period of the investment was the fortress in any danger of capture, save by hunger.
At that period England was not, as she afterwards became, invincible by sea; and as we were engaged at the same time in war with France, Spain, Holland, and the United States, it was only occasionally that a fleet could be spared to bring succour and provisions to the beleaguered garrison. Scurvy was the direst enemy of the defenders. The art of preserving meat in tins had not been discovered, and they were forced to subsist almost entirely upon salt meat. During the first year of the siege the supply of fresh vegetables was scanty, in the extreme, and the garrison consequently suffered so severely, from scurvy, that at one time scarcely half of the men of the garrison were strong enough to carry a firelock, and perform their duty. The providential capture of a vessel laden with oranges and lemons checked the ravages of the scourge; and the successful efforts of the garrison to raise vegetables prevented it from ever, afterwards, getting a firm hold upon them.
In such a siege there was but little scope for deeds of individual gallantry. It was a long monotony of hardship and suffering, nobly endured, and terminating in one of the greatest triumphs ever recorded in the long roll of British victories.
G. A. Henty.
[Chapter 1]: "Something Like An Adventure."
Had Mr. Tulloch, the headmaster and proprietor of a large school at Putney, been asked which was the most troublesome boy in his school, he would probably have replied, without hesitation, "Bob Repton."
But, being a just and fair-minded man, he would have hastened to qualify this remark, by adding:
"Most troublesome, but by no means the worst boy. You must understand that. He is always in scrapes, always in mischief. In all my experience I have never before come across a boy who had such an aptitude for getting into trouble; but I have nothing else to say against him. He is straightforward and manly. I have never known him to tell a lie, to screen himself. He is an example to many others in that way. I like the boy, in spite of the endless trouble he gives, and yet there is scarcely a day passes that I am not obliged to cane him; and even that does him no good, as far as I can see, for he seems to forget it, five minutes after it is over. I wonder, sometimes, if he has really got hardened, and doesn't feel it.
"He is sharp, and does his lessons well. I have no difficulty with him, on that score; but he is a perfect imp of mischief."
With such characteristics, it need hardly be said that Bob Repton was one of the most popular boys at Tulloch's school.
School life was, in those days--for it was in August, 1778, that Bob was at Tulloch's--a very different thing to what it is, at present. Learning was thrashed into boys. It was supposed that it could only be instilled in this manner; and although some masters were, of course, more tyrannical and brutal than others, the cane was everywhere in use, and that frequently. Lads, then, had far less liberty and fewer sports than at present; but as boys' spirits cannot be altogether suppressed, even by the use of the cane, they found vent in other ways, and there was much more mischief, and more breaking out of bounds, than now take place. Boys were less trusted, and more harshly treated; in consequence of which there was a kind of warfare between the masters and the boys, in which the masters, in spite of their canes, did not always get the best of it.
Bob Repton was nearly fifteen. He was short, rather than tall for his age, but squarely built and strong. His hair could never be got to lie down, but bristled aggressively over his head. His nose was inclined to turn up, his gray eyes had a merry, mischievous expression, and his lips were generally parted in a smile. A casual observer would have said that he was a happy-go-lucky, merry, impudent-looking lad; but he was more than this. He was shrewd, intelligent, and exceptionally plucky; always ready to do a good turn to others, and to take more than his fair share of blame, for every scrape he got into. He had fought many battles, and that with boys older than himself, but he had never been beaten. The opinion, generally, among the boys was that he did not feel pain and, being caned so frequently, such punishment as he got in a fight was a mere trifle to him.
He was a thorn in the side of Mr. Purfleet, the usher who was generally in charge of the playground; who had learned by long experience that, whenever Bob Repton was quiet, he was certain to be planning some special piece of mischief. The usher was sitting now on a bench, with a book in his hand; but his attention was, at present, directed to a group of four boys who had drawn together in a corner of the playground.
"There is Repton, again," he said to himself. "I wonder what he is plotting, now. That boy will be the death of me. I am quite sure it was he who put that eel in my bed, last week; though of course, I could not prove it."
Mr. Purfleet prided himself on his nerve. He had been telling the boys some stories he had read of snakes, in India; among them, one of an officer who, when seated at table, had felt a snake winding itself round his leg, and who sat for several minutes without moving, until some friends brought a saucer of milk and placed it near, when the snake uncurled itself and went to drink.
"It must have required a lot of nerve, Mr. Purfleet," Bob Repton had said, "to sit as quiet as that."
"Not at all, not at all," the usher replied, confidently. "It was the natural thing to do. A man should always be calm, in case of sudden danger, Bob. The first thought in his mind should be, 'What is this?' the second, 'What had best be done, under the circumstances?' and, these two things being decided, a man of courage will deal coolly with the danger. I should despise myself, if I were to act otherwise."
It was two nights later that the usher, having walked down between the two rows of beds in the dormitory, and seeing that all the boys were quiet, and apparently asleep, proceeded to his own bed, which was at the end of the room, and partly screened off from the rest by a curtain. No sooner did he disappear behind this than half a dozen heads were raised. An oil lamp burned at the end of the room, affording light for the usher to undress; and enabling him, as he lay in bed, to command a general, if somewhat faint view of the dormitory. Five minutes after Mr. Purfleet had disappeared behind the curtain, the watching eyes saw the clothes at the end of the bed pulled down, and caught a partial view of Mr. Purfleet as he climbed in. A second later there was a yell of terror, and the usher leapt from the bed. Instantly, the dormitory was in an uproar.
"What is it, Mr. Purfleet--what is the matter, sir?" and several of the boys sprang from their beds, and ran towards him; the only exceptions to the general excitement being the four or five who were in the secret. These lay shaking with suppressed laughter, with the bedclothes or the corner of a pillow thrust into their mouths, to prevent them from breaking out into screams of delight.
"What is it, sir?"
It was some time before the usher could recover himself sufficiently to explain.
"There is a snake in my bed," he said.
"A snake!" the boys repeated, in astonishment, several of the more timid at once making off to their beds.
"Certainly, a snake," Mr. Purfleet panted. "I put my legs down, and they came against something cold, and it began to twist about. In a moment, if I had not leapt out, I should no doubt have received a fatal wound."
"Where did it come from?"
"What is to be done?"
And a variety of other questions burst from the boys.
"I will run down and get three or four hockey sticks, Mr. Purfleet," one of the elder boys said.
"That will be the best plan, Mason. Quick, quick! There, do you see it moving, under the clothes?"
There was certainly something wriggling, so there was a general movement back from the bed.
"We had better hold the clothes down, Mr. Purfleet," Bob Repton said, pushing himself forward. "If it were to crawl out at the top, and get on to the floor, it might bite a dozen of us. I will hold the clothes down tight, on one side, if someone will hold them on the other."
One of the other boys came forward, and the clothes were stretched tightly across the bed, by the pillow. In a minute or two, Mason ran up with four hockey sticks.
"Now, you must be careful," Mr. Purfleet said, "because if it should get out, the consequences might be terrible. Now, then, four of you take the sticks, and all hit together, as hard as you can--now."
The sticks descended together. There was a violent writhing and contortion beneath the clothes, but the blows rained down fast and, in a very short time, all movement ceased.
"It must be dead, now," Bob Repton said. "I think we can look at it now, sir."
"Well, draw the clothes down very gently; boys, and be ready to strike again, if you see the least movement."
The clothes were drawn down, till the creature was visible.
"It must be a cobra," the usher said, looking at it from a distance. "It is thick and short. It must have escaped from somewhere. Be very careful, all of you."
Mason approached cautiously, to get a nearer view; and then exclaimed:
"Why, sir, it is an eel!"
There was a moment's silence, and then a perfect yell of laughter from the boys. For a moment the usher was dumbfounded, then he rallied.
"You will all go to your beds, at once," he said. "I shall report the matter to Mr. Tulloch, in the morning."
The boys retired, laughing, to their beds; but above the din the usher heard the words, in a muffled voice:
"A man should always be calm, in sudden danger."
Another voice, equally disguised, said:
"Yes, he should first ask himself 'What is this?' then 'What had best be done, under the circumstances?'"
A third voice then took it up:
"It follows that a man of courage will deal coolly with the danger."
Then there was a chorus of half a dozen voices:
"I should despise myself, if I were to act otherwise."
"Silence!" the usher shouted, rushing down the line between the beds. "I will thrash the first boy who speaks."
As Mr. Purfleet had one of the hockey sticks in his hand, the threat was sufficient to ensure silence.
To the relief of the two or three boys engaged in the affair, Mr. Purfleet made no report in the morning. Mr. Tulloch by no means spared the cane, but he always inquired before he flogged and, as the usher felt sure that the snake story would be brought forward, by way of excuse for the trick played upon him, he thought it better to drop it; making a mental note, however, that he would get even with Bob Repton, another time--for he made sure that he was at the bottom of the matter, especially as he had been one of those who had listened to the snake story.
Mr. Purfleet was held in but light respect by the boys. He was a pale young man, and looked as if he had been poorly fed, as a boy. He took the junior classes, and the belief was that he knew nothing of Latin.
Moffat, who took the upper classes, was much more severe, and sent up many more boys to be caned than did the junior usher; but the boys did not dislike him. Caning they considered their natural portion, and felt no ill will on that account; while they knew that Mr. Moffat was a capital scholar and, though strict, was always scrupulously just. Above all, he was not a sneak. If he reported them, he reported them openly, but brought no accusation against them behind their back; while Mr. Purfleet was always carrying tittle tattle to the headmaster. There was, therefore, little gratitude towards him for holding his tongue as to the eel; for the boys guessed the real reason of his silence, and put it down to dread of ridicule, and not to any kindliness of feeling.
"Purfleet would give sixpence to know what we are talking about, Bob," one of the group talking in the corner of the playground said.
"It is worth more than that, Jim; still, we shall have to be extra careful. He suspects it was our lot who played him the trick about the eel, and he will do his best to catch us out, in something.
"Well, as I was saying, Johnny Gibson has got a first-rate dog for rabbits, and he says there are lots of them up on the Common. I told him that I would come, and I expected two or three more; and we would meet him at the top of the hill, at four o'clock tomorrow morning. It will be getting light by that time. Of course, we shall get out in the usual way, and we can be back by half past six, and no one will be any the wiser. Old Thomas never comes down till a quarter to seven. I have heard him a dozen times. He just comes down in time to ring the bell for us to get up."
"Oh, I ain't afraid of Thomas," one of the others said, "but I am afraid of Purfleet."
"There need be no fear about him. He never wakes till the bell rings, and sleeps like a top. Why, he didn't wake, the other morning, when we had a scrimmage and you tumbled out of bed. Besides, we all sleep at the other end of the room and, even if he did wake up in the night, he wouldn't notice that we had gone; especially if we shoved something in the bed, to make a lump.
"My only fear is that we shan't wake. We ought to keep watch till it's time to get up, but I am sure we shouldn't keep awake. We must all make up our minds to wake at three, then one of us will be sure to do it. And mind, if one wakes, he must promise not to go to sleep again before he hears the hall clock strike, and knows what time it is. If it is before three, he can go off to sleep again. That way, one of us is sure to be awake, when it strikes three."
"I say, shan't we just be licked, if we are found out, Bob?"
"Of course we shall; but as we get licked pretty well every day, that won't make much difference, and we shall have had awful fun. Still, if any of you fellows don't like it, don't you go. I am going, but I don't want to persuade any of you."
"Of course we are going, if you are going, Bob. What are we going to do with the rabbits?"
"Oh, I settled Johnny Gibson should keep them. He is going to bring his dog, you know; besides, what could we do with them? We can't cook them, can we?"
As it was clear to all the party that this could not be managed, no objection was raised to this disposal of their game.
Bob Repton slept but little that night. They went to bed at eight, and he heard every hour strike after nine; dozing off occasionally, and waking up, each time, convinced that the clock would strike three next time. At last he heard the three welcome strokes, and at once got up and went to the beds of the other three boys.
They were all sound asleep, and required some shaking before they could be convinced that it was time to get up. Then each boy put his bolster in his bed, rolled up his night shirt into a ball and laid it on the pillow, and then partly covered it up with the clothes. Then they slipped on their shirts, breeches, and stockings and, taking their jackets and shoes in their hand, stole out of the door at their end of the room, and closed it behind them. They then crept downstairs to the room where their caps were kept, put on these and their jackets, and each boy got a hockey stick out of the cupboard in the corner in which they were kept. Then they very cautiously unfastened the shutter, raised the window, and slipped out. They pulled the shutter to behind them, closed the window, and then put on their shoes.
"That is managed first rate," Bob said. "There wasn't the least noise. I made sure Wharton would have dropped his shoes."
"Why should I drop them, more than anyone else?" Wharton asked in an aggrieved voice.
"I don't know, Billy. The idea occurred to me. I didn't think anyone else would do it, but I quite made up my mind that you would."
"Well, I wish you wouldn't be so fast about making up your mind, then," Wharton grumbled. "I ain't more clumsy than other people."
"You are all right," Jim Sankey put in. "Bob's only joking."
"Well, he might as well joke with somebody else, Jim. I don't see any joke in it."
"No, that is where the joke is, Billy," Bob said. "If you did see the joke, there wouldn't be any joke in it.
"Well, never mind, here is the walnut tree. Now, who will get over first?"
The walnut tree stood in the playground near the wall, and had often proved useful as a ladder to boys at Tulloch's. One of its branches extended over the wall and, from this, it was easy to drop down beyond it. The return was more difficult, and was only to be accomplished by means of an old ivy, which grew against the wall at some distance off. By its aid the wall could be scaled without much difficulty, and there was then the choice of dropping twelve feet into the playground, or of walking on the top of the wall until the walnut tree was reached.
Tulloch's stood some little distance along the Lower Richmond Road. There were but one or two houses, standing back from the road between it and the main road up the hill, and there was little fear of anyone being abroad at that time in the morning. There was, as yet, but a faint gleam of daylight in the sky; and it was dark in the road up the hill, as the trees growing in the grounds of the houses, on either side, stretched far over it.
"I say," Jim Sankey said, "won't it be a go, if Johnny Gibson isn't there, after all?"
"He will be up there by four," Bob said, confidently. "He said his father would be going out in his boat to fish, as soon as it began to be daylight--because the tide served at that hour--and that he would start, as soon as his father shoved off the boat.
"My eye, Jim, what is that ahead of us? It looks to me like a coach."
"It is a coach, or a carriage, or something of that sort."
"No, it isn't, it is a light cart. What can it be doing here, at this hour? Let us walk the other side of the road."
They crossed to the left, as they got abreast of the cart. A man, whom they had not noticed before, said sharply:
"You are about early."
"Yes, we are off to work," Bob replied, and they walked steadily on.
"He couldn't see what we were like," Jim Sankey said, when they had got a hundred yards further.
"Not he," Bob said. "I could not make out his figure at all, and it is darker on this side of the road than it is on the other.
"I say, you fellows, I think he is up to no good."
"What do you mean, Bob?"
"Well, what should a cart be standing on the hill for, at this time in the morning? That's Admiral Langton's, I know; the door is just where the cart was stopping."
"Well, what has that got to do with it, Bob? The cart won't do him any harm."
"No, but there may be some fellows with it, who may be breaking into his house."
"Do you think so, Bob?"
"Well, it seems likely to me it may be his house, or one of the others."
"Well, what are we to do, Bob?"
"I vote we see about it, Jim. We have pretty nearly half an hour to spare, now, before Johnny Gibson will come along. We have got our hockey sticks, you know."
"But suppose there shouldn't be any men there, Bob, and we should be caught in the grounds; They would think we were going to steal something."
"That would be a go," Bob said, "but there isn't likely to be anyone about, at half past three; and if there were, I don't suppose he would be able to catch us. But we must risk something, anyhow. It will be a bit of fun, and it will be better than waiting at the top of the hill, with nothing to do till, Johnny Gibson comes."
They were now past the wall in front of Admiral Langton's, and far out of sight of the man in the cart.
"There is some ivy on this wall," Bob said. "We can climb over it, by that. Then we will make our way along, until we can find some place where we can climb over into the admiral's garden."
"Perhaps there are some dogs about," Wharton objected.
"Well, if there are, they are most likely chained up. We must risk something.
"Well, here goes. If you don't like it, Wharton, you can stay behind."
So saying, he put his hockey stick between his teeth, and then proceeded to climb up the wall, by means of the ivy.
The wall was but nine feet high and, as soon as he gained the top, Bob said:
"Come on, you fellows. I am going to drop down."
In two minutes he was joined by the other three.
"There is a path, just beyond," Bob said; "let us go by that. Don't you fellows say a word. As Wharton says, there may be some dogs about."
Quietly they stole along the path, which ran parallel to the road, until it turned off at right angles.
"Now, the first tree that grows against the wall we will get over by," Bob whispered.
After going twenty yards, he stopped.
"This tree will do."
"But what are you going to do, if there should be some men?" Wharton asked, in a tone that showed he objected, altogether, to the proceeding.
"It depends upon how many of them there are," Bob replied. "Of course, the admiral has got some men in the house; and they will wake up, and help us, if we give the alarm. Anyhow, we ought to be able to be a match for two men, with these sticks, especially if we take them by surprise.
"What do you say, Jim?"
"I should think so," Jim replied. "Anyhow, if you are game to go on, I am.
"What do you say, Fullarton?"
"Oh, I am ready," Fullarton, who was a boy of few words, replied.
"Only, if there is anyone, Bob, and we get into a row with them, of course it will all come out about us; and then shan't we get it, just!"
"I suppose we shall," Bob admitted, "but I don't see we can help that.
"Well, we are in for it, now," and he began to climb the tree and, working along a limb which extended over the wall, he dropped down into the garden.
The others soon joined, Wharton being more afraid of staying behind, by himself, than of going with the rest.
"Now, what are we to do next?"
"I should say we ought to find out whether anyone has got into the house. That is the first thing. Then, if they have, we have got to try to wake up the people, and to frighten the men inside.
"Have you got some string in your pockets?"
"I have got some."
They all had string.
"What do you want string for, Bob?"
"String is always useful, Jim. We may want to tie their hands. But what I was thinking was, we might fasten it across the stairs, or some of the passages; and then set up a sudden shout, and they would think the watchmen had come, and would make a bolt; and when they got to the string over they would go, and then we would drop on them with these hockey sticks, before they could get up.
"Well, come on. There mayn't be anyone here, after all. Now we will go up to the house, and creep round."
The house stood thirty or forty yards away and, stepping as noiselessly as they could, the boys crossed the lawn and moved along the front. Suddenly, Tom Fullarton caught hold of Bob's arm.
"Look, Bob, there is a light in that room! Do you see--through the slit in the shutters?"
"So there is. Well, there is no mistake, now. There must be some fellows belonging to that cart inside. That must be the drawing room, or dining room, and they would never have lights there at this time of night.
"Now, let us find out where they got in. This is something like fun. It beats rabbit hunting all to nothing.
"Now mind, you fellows, if we do come upon them, and there is a fight, you remember the best place to hit, to begin with, is the ankle. You have only just got to fancy that it is a bung, and swipe at it with all your might. Anyone you hit there is sure to go down and, if he wants it, you can hit him over the head, afterwards.
"Now, come along. I expect they got in at the back of the house."
They soon came upon a door at the side of the house. It was open.
"That looks as if they had been let in," Bob whispered. "See, there is a light in there, somewhere! Come on.
"Now, let us take our shoes off."
The others were thoroughly excited now, and followed Bob without hesitation.
"Bob, is the key in the door?" Jim whispered.
"Yes, on the inside. They have been let in. I wish I dare lock it, and take the key away. Let me see if it turns easy."
Very gently he turned the key, and found the bolt shot noiselessly. It had doubtless been carefully oiled. He turned it again, shut the door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket.
Then they crept on tiptoe along the passage. At the end were two large chests, strengthened with iron bands. A lighted lantern stood upon them. Bob peered round the corner into the hall. No one was to be seen, but he heard a noise through an open door, from which came a stream of light.
Motioning the others to stand still, he crept forward noiselessly till he could look into the room. A man was occupied in packing some articles of massive plate, clocks, and other valuables into a sack. He was alone.
Bob made his way back to the others.
"There's only one fellow there," he said. "If there are any more, they are upstairs. Let us have this one first--his back is to the door.
"Now, Wharton, you hold our handkerchiefs and the string. If he don't look round, I will jump on his back and have him down.
"The moment he is down, you two throw yourselves on him, and you shove the handkerchiefs into his mouth, Wharton. In the surprise, he won't know that we are only boys; and we will tie his hands before he has time to resist.
"Now, come on."
They were all plucky boys--for Wharton, although less morally courageous than the others, was no coward, physically. Their stockinged feet made no sound, and the man heard nothing until Bob sprang on to his back, the force sending him down on to his face. Bob's arm was tightly round his throat; and the other two threw themselves upon him, each seizing an arm, while Wharton crammed two handkerchiefs into his mouth. The man's hands were dragged behind his back, as he lay on his face, and his wrists tied firmly together. He was rendered utterly helpless before he had recovered from the first shock of surprise.
"Tie his ankles together with the other two handkerchiefs," Bob said, still lying across him.
"That is right. You are sure they are tight? There, he will do, now. I must lock him in."
This was done.
"Now, then, let's go upstairs.
"Now, fasten this last piece of string across between the banisters, six or eight steps up.
"Make haste," he added, as a faint cry was heard, above.
It did not take a second to fasten the string at each end; and then, grasping their sticks, the boys sprang upstairs. On gaining the landing, they heard voices proceeding from a room along a corridor and, as they crept up to it, they heard a man's voice say, angrily:
"Now we ain't going to waste any more time. If you don't tell us where your money is, we will knock you and the girl on the head.
"No, you can't talk, but you can point out where it is. We know that you have got it.
"Very well, Bill, hit that young woman over the head with the butt of your pistol. Don't be afraid of hurting her.
"Ah! I thought you would change your mind. So it is under the bed.
"Look under, Dick. What is there?"
"A square box," another voice said.
"Well, haul it out."
"Come on," Bob Repton whispered to the others; "the moment we are in, shout."
He stood for a moment in the doorway. A man was standing, with his back to him, holding a pistol in his hand. Another, similarly armed, stood by the side of a young woman who, in a loose dressing gown, sat shrinking in an armchair, into which she had evidently been thrust. A third was in the act of crawling under the bed. An elderly man, in his nightshirt, was standing up. A gag had been thrust into his mouth; and he was tightly bound, by a cord round his waist, to one of the bedposts.
Bob sprang forward, whirling his hockey stick round his head, and giving a loud shout of "Down with the villains!" the others joining, at the top of their voices.
Before the man had time to turn round, Bob's stick fell, with all the boy's strength, upon his ankle; and he went down as if he had been shot, his pistol exploding as he fell. Bob raised his stick again and brought it down, with a swinging blow, on the robber's head.
The others had made a rush, together, towards the man standing by the lady. Taken utterly by surprise, he discharged his pistol at random, and then sprang towards the door. Two blows fell on him, and Sankey and Fullarton tried to grapple with him; but he burst through them, and rushed out.
Bob and Wharton sprang on the kneeling man, before he could gain his feet; and rolled him over, throwing themselves upon him. He was struggling furiously, and would soon have shaken them off, when the other boys sprang to their assistance.
"You help them, Jim. I will get this cord off!" Fullarton said and, running to the bed, began to unknot the cord that bound the admiral.
The ruffian on the ground was a very powerful man, and the three boys had the greatest difficulty in holding him down; till Fullarton slipped a noose round one of his ankles and then, jumping on the bed, hauled upon it with all his strength--the admiral giving his assistance.
"Get off him, he is safe!" he shouted; but the others had the greatest difficulty in shaking themselves free from the man--who had, fortunately, laid his pistol on the bed, before he crawled under it to get at the box.
Jim Sankey was the first to shake himself free from him and, seeing what Fullarton was doing, he jumped on to the bed and gave him his assistance and, in half a minute, the ruffian's leg was lashed to the bedpost, at a height of five feet from the ground.
Just as this was done there was a rush of feet outside; and three men, one holding a cutlass and the other two armed with pokers, ran into the room. It was fortunate they did so, for the man whom Bob had first felled was just rising to his feet; but he was at once struck down again, by a heavy blow over the head with the cutlass. By this time the admiral had torn off the bandage across his mouth.
"Another of them ran downstairs, Jackson. Give chase. We can deal with these fellows."
The three men rushed off.
"Well, I don't know who you are," the admiral went on, turning to the boys, "but you turned up at the nick of time; and I am deeply indebted to you, not only for saving my money--although I should not have liked to lose that--but for having captured these pirates.
"That villain has not hurt you much, I hope?" for both Bob and Jim Sankey were bleeding freely, from the face, from the heavy blows the robber had dealt them.
"No, sir, we are not hurt to speak of," Bob said. "We belong to Tulloch's school."
"To the school!" the admiral exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here, at four o'clock in the morning?
"But never mind that now. What is it, Jackson, has he got away?"
"No, sir; he was lying in a heap, at the bottom of the stairs. There was a lanyard fastened across."
"We tied a string across, sir, as we came up," Bob explained.
"Well done, lads!
"Are there any more of them, Jackson?"
"Don't see any signs of any more, admiral. There are the two plate chests in the passage, as if they had been brought out from the butler's strong room, in readiness to take away."
"Where is the butler? He must have heard the pistol shots!" the admiral exclaimed angrily.
"He is not in his room, admiral. We looked in to bring him with us. The door was open, but he isn't there."
"There is another man in the drawing room, tied." Bob said. "He was putting a lot of things into a sack."
"The scoundrel! Perhaps that is the butler," the admiral said.
"Well, Emma, you had better go back to bed again.
"Jackson, you stand guard over these two villains here, and split their heads open, if they venture to move.
"Now, let us go and see to this other fellow."
The admiral proceeded downstairs, followed by the boys. The other two servants were standing beside the third robber, who was still insensible.
"You keep watch over him, John," the admiral said.
"William, you come with us. There is another man in the drawing room, but he is tied."
"There is the key, sir," Bob said, producing it. "We thought it safest to lock him up."
"Upon my word, young gentlemen, you seem to have thought of everything. If I were in command of a ship, I should like to have you all as midshipmen."
The door was opened. The man was still lying on the ground, but had rolled some distance from where they had left him. He had succeeded in getting his feet loosened from the handkerchief, but the whipcord round his wrists had resisted all his efforts to break or slacken it. He was panting heavily from the exertions he had made.
"It is Harper," the admiral said, in a tone of indignation and disgust.
"So, you treacherous scoundrel, it was you who let these men in, was it? Well, it is a hanging matter, my lad; and if any fellow deserves the rope, you do.
"You had better go and get some more cord, Williams, and tie all these four fellows up, securely. Let Jackson see to the knots.
"Where did the scoundrels get in?" he asked, turning to the boys.
"At the door at the end of the passage, sir, where the plate chests are standing. We found it open--here is the key of it. We locked it, after we came in, so as to prevent anyone from getting away.
"There is another man, with a cart, in the road."
"We will see to him, directly we have got the others all tied up safely," the admiral said. "That is the first thing to see to."
In five minutes, the four men were laid side by side in the hall, securely bound hand and foot.
"Now, Williams, you keep guard over them.
"Jackson, do you and John sally out. There is a cart standing outside the gate, and a fellow in it. Bring him in, and lay him alongside the others."
The boys followed the two men, to see the capture. The light had broadened out over the sky, and it was almost sunrise as they sallied out. They went quietly along, until they reached the gate--which stood ajar--then they flung it open and rushed out. To their disappointment, the cart was standing about fifty yards lower down the hill. The man was in it, with his whip in one hand and the reins in another, and was looking back; and the moment he saw them, he struck the horse and drove off at the top of his speed. The pace was such that it was hopeless for them to think of following him.
"I expect he heard the pistol shots," Jackson said, "and sheered off a bit, so as to be able to cut and run if he found his consorts were in trouble. Well, we cannot help it; we have taken four prizes out of the five, and I call that pretty fair."
"I think we had better go, now," Bob said. "We have got a friend waiting for us."
"Then he must wait a bit longer," Jackson said. "The admiral will want to ask you some more questions. But if your friend is anywhere near, one of you might run and tell him to back and fill a bit, till you come to him."
"Tell him to do what?" Jim Sankey asked.
"Tell him to wait a bit, lad."
"I will run up," Wharton said.
"Shall I tell him we shan't want him at all, today, Bob?"
"I think so, Wharton. You see it is four o'clock, now; and we mayn't be able to get away for half an hour, and it will be too late, then. Besides, Jim and I have been knocked about too much to care for rabbit hunting, now. You tell him we will go some other day."
"You needn't tell him that, Wharton," Fullarton put in. "It will be some time before we get a chance, you may be sure."
"All right! Tell him to go home then, Wharton. Tell him I will make it all right with him, for losing his morning's work. Of course, you will come in here, when you come down the hill again."
Wharton nodded, and started at a run up the hill; while his companions accompanied the two men into the house. The admiral was down in the hall again. He had now had time to add to his former, scanty costume.
"Get the shutters of the drawing room open, Jackson," he said, after hearing the report of the man's escape, "and tell the maids--I suppose they are all up--to light a fire and get some coffee ready, at once, and something to eat.
"Now, young gentlemen, sit down and tell me all about this business. Now, which of you will be spokesman?"
Jim nodded to Bob.
"It's his doing, sir. I mean about our coming in here. We should never have thought anything about the cart, if it hadn't been for Bob; and we didn't much like coming, only he pretty well made us, and he arranged it all."
"That's all rot," Bob said. "We were just all in it together, sir, and this is how it was."
And he told the whole story of what had taken place.
"Well, you couldn't have done better, if you had been officers in His Majesty's service," the admiral said. "You have saved me the loss of my two plate chests, of all the plate in this room--and that couldn't be counted in money, for they were most of the things given me, at different times, on service--and of 500 pounds I had in that box upstairs--altogether, at least 2000 pounds in money value. More than that, you prevented my being captured; and it would have been a sorer blow, to me, than the loss of the money, if those scoundrels had had their way, and had got off scot free.
"But you haven't told me, yet, how you happened to be going up the hill, at half past three o'clock in the morning. What on earth were you doing there? Surely your master does not allow you to ramble about, in the middle of the night."
"Well, no, sir, that is the worst of it," Bob said. "You see, I had arranged with one of the fishermen's boys, who has got a first-rate dog, that we could meet him upon the Common, and do some rabbit hunting. We slipped out from Tulloch's, and meant to have been back before anyone was up. And now I expect we shall get it nicely, because I suppose it must all come out."
The admiral laughed.
"You are four nice young scamps!" he said--for Wharton had rejoined them, before Bob had finished the story--"but it is not for me to blame you. It will certainly have to be told, lads, because you will have to appear as witnesses at the trial of these fellows; but I will go down myself, the first thing in the morning, and speak to your master."
"Thank you, sir," Bob said. "It won't make any difference about the thrashing; we are bound to get that. But we shan't mind that, we are pretty well accustomed to it. Still, if you speak for us, I expect we shall get off with that; otherwise I don't know what Tulloch would have done, when he found out that we had been slipping out at night."
"I expect it is not the first time you have done it?"
"Well, no, it is not, sir. We have been out two or three times, with one of the fishermen, in his boat."
"I expect you are nice young pickles," the admiral said. "Well, what time does school begin?"
"Half past seven, sir."
"Very well, then. I will be there at that hour, lads, and do my best for you. You see, with those faces of yours, you would be sure to be noticed, anyhow; and I hope you wouldn't, in any case, have been mean enough to screen yourselves by lying."
"That we shouldn't," Bob said. "I don't think there is a boy in the school who would tell a lie to Tulloch."
"That is right, lads. A gentleman will never tell a lie to screen himself, when he has got into a scrape. I wouldn't keep the smartest young officer in the service on board a ship of mine, if I caught him telling a lie; for I should know that he would not only be a blackguard, but a coward. Cowardice is at the bottom of half the lying of the world. I would overlook anything, except lying. Upon my word, I would rather that a boy were a thief than a liar.
"Well, here is breakfast. Now sit down and make yourselves at home, while I go up and see how my daughter is, after the fright she has had."
Half an hour later, after eating a hearty breakfast, the four boys started for school.
[Chapter 2]: A Great Change.
It was just striking six when they again climbed over the wall, and descended by the tree. They had had a discussion whether they should wait until the doors were opened, and walk quietly in, or return as they left. They adopted the latter plan, because they thought that, if the matter was reported to Mr. Tulloch, he might proceed to administer punishment before the admiral arrived to give his version of the affair.
The door was still ajar. As they opened it, they gave an exclamation of surprise--for there, sitting on a chair in the passage, was Mr. Purfleet. He smiled unpleasantly.
"So here you are. You have had a pleasant ramble, no doubt; but I don't quite know what view Mr. Tulloch may take of it."
"It was very good of you to sit up for us, Mr. Purfleet," Bob said, quietly; "but you see, we had left the door open, and could have got in by ourselves. I hope you will not have caught cold, sitting there only in a dressing gown."
"You are an impudent young scamp!" Mr. Purfleet said, in a rage. "You will laugh with the other side of your mouth, presently. You and Sankey are nice-looking figures, ain't you, with your faces all cut and swollen?"
"We have been a little in the wars," Bob replied.
"I don't want to hear anything about it," the usher replied. "You will have to explain matters to Mr. Tulloch."
"So I suppose, Mr. Purfleet.
"Well, Jim, we'll go and have a good wash. The bell will be ringing, in half an hour."
So saying, Bob went into the lavatory, followed by his companions; while the usher returned upstairs. He was certainly disappointed. Quietly as the boys had dressed, the slight noise they had made in closing the door had woke him. He thought little of it but, just as he was going off to sleep again, he heard the bolts of the door below withdrawn. He at once got up and walked to the other end of the dormitory, and discovered that the four boys were missing.
Chuckling to himself that he should now be able to repay the grudge he owed to Bob, he put on his dressing gown and went downstairs; and had sat there for three hours, momentarily expecting their return. He had certainly felt chilly, but had borne it patiently; comforted by the joyful expectation of the utter dismay that would be felt, by the culprits, when they saw him. The meeting had not passed off at all as he had anticipated, and he could only console himself by thinking that his turn would come when he made his report to Mr. Tulloch.
The four boys did not return to the dormitory but, after they had washed, strolled about in the playground. There was quite a ferment, in the dormitory, when their absence was perceived, and the others noticed the four made-up figures in their place. The operation of dressing was got through with much greater alacrity than usual and, when they went downstairs and saw the four missing boys in the playground, these were at once surrounded by an excited throng. They refused, however, to answer any questions.
"You will hear it all, in good time," Bob said. "We have been out, and we have been caught. That is all I am going to tell you."
At the usual hour the bell rang, and the boys assembled in the schoolroom. The two ushers were in their places. They waited three or four minutes for Mr. Tulloch to appear; then the door opened, and the manservant entered and, walking up to Mr. Moffat, said a word or two. The latter nodded.
"Lessons will begin at once," he said, in a loud voice. "The first class will come up to me."
The boys of this class, who occupied the senior dormitory, at once began their lessons; while Mr. Purfleet took the lower class. The second class, including Bob and his friends, remained in their places. In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and Mr. Tulloch entered, accompanied by Admiral Langton. Mr. Tulloch was looking very serious, while the admiral looked hot and angry.
"We are going to catch it," Bob whispered, to Jim Sankey. "I knew the admiral wouldn't be able to get us off."
"I wish all the boys to return to their places, Mr. Moffat. I have something to say," Mr. Tulloch said, in a loud voice.
When the boys were all seated, he went on:
"Admiral Langton has been telling me that four of my boys were out and about, soon after three o'clock this morning. The four boys in question will stand up.
"I do not say that this is the first time that such a serious infraction of the rules of the school has taken place. It has happened before. It may, for aught I know, have happened many times, without my knowledge; but upon the occasions when it has come to my knowledge, the offenders have been most severely punished. They must be punished, now.
"Admiral Langton has been telling me that the boys in question have behaved with very great courage, and have been the means of saving him from the loss of a large sum of money and plate, and of capturing four burglars."
A buzz of surprise passed round the school.
"That this conduct does them great credit I am fully prepared to admit. Had they been aware that this burglary was about to be committed, and had they broken out of the house in the middle of the night for the purpose of preventing it, I allow that it might have been pleaded as an excuse for their offence; but this was not so. It was an accident, that occurred to them when they were engaged in breaking the rules, and cannot be pleaded as a set-off against punishment.
"Admiral Langton has pleaded with me, very strongly, for a pardon for them; but I regret that I am unable to comply with his request. The admiral, as a sailor, is well aware that discipline must be maintained; and I am quite sure that, when he was in command of a ship, he would not have permitted his judgment to be biased, by anyone. I have put it to him in that way, and he acknowledges that to be so. The two matters stand distinct. The boys must be punished for this gross breach of the rules. They may be thanked, and applauded, for the courage they have shown, and the valuable service they have rendered to Admiral Langton.
"I have, however, so far yielded to his entreaties that, while I must administer a severe caning for the gross breach of the rules, I shall abstain from taking any further steps in the matter; and from writing to the boys' parents and guardians, requesting them to remove their sons from the school, at once, as I certainly otherwise would have done. At the same time, I am willing to hear anything that these boys may have to urge, in explanation or defence of their conduct. I have already been informed, by Admiral Langton, that their object, in so breaking out, was to hunt rabbits up on the Common."
"I wish to say, sir," Bob said, in a steady voice, "that it was entirely my doing. I made the arrangements, and persuaded the others to go; and I think it is only right that they should not be punished as severely as I am."
"We were all in it together, sir," Jim Sankey broke in. "I was just as keen on it as Bob was."
"So was I," Fullarton and Wharton said, together.
"Well, lads," Admiral Langton said, taking a step forward, and addressing the boys, in general, "as your master says, discipline is discipline; this is his ship, and he is on his own quarterdeck--but I wish to tell you all that, in my opinion, you have every reason to be proud of your schoolfellows. They behaved with the greatest pluck and gallantry and, were I again in command of a ship, I should be glad to have them serving me. I am only sorry that I cannot persuade Mr. Tulloch to see the matter in the same light as I do.
"Goodbye, lads!" and he walked across, and shook hands with the four boys. "I shall see you again, soon," and the admiral turned abruptly, and walked out of the schoolroom.
Mr. Tulloch at once proceeded to carry his sentence into effect, and the four boys received as severe a caning as ever they had had in their lives; and even Bob, case hardened as he was, had as much as he could do to prevent himself from uttering a sound, while it was being inflicted. Lessons were then continued, as usual, until eight o'clock, when the boys went in to breakfast. After that was over, they went into the playground, until nine; and the four culprits gave the rest a full account of the events of the night.
"I don't mind the thrashing," Bob said, "although Tulloch did lay it on hot. It was well worth it, if it had only been to see that sneak Purfleet's face, when the admiral told the story. I was watching him, when Tulloch came in; and saw how delighted he was, at the tale he was going to tell; and how satisfied he was that he should get no end of credit, for sitting three hours in his dressing gown, in order to catch us when we came in. It was an awful sell for him, when he saw that the admiral had come out with the whole story, and there was nothing, whatever, for him to tell."
When they went into school again, Mr. Tulloch said:
"Boys, I hear that four of your number have behaved with great gallantry. They have prevented a serious robbery, and arrested the men engaged in it. I shall therefore give you a holiday, for the remainder of the day. The four boys in question will proceed, at once, to Admiral Langton's, as they will be required to accompany him to Kingston, where the prisoners will be brought up before the magistrates."
There was a general cheer from the boys, and then Bob and his companions hurried upstairs to put on their best clothes, and ran off to the admiral's.
"Well, boys, is it all over?" he asked, as they entered.
"All over, sir," they replied together.
"Well, boys, I think it was a shame; but I suppose discipline must be maintained in school, as well as on board a ship; but it vexes me, amazingly, to think that I have been the means of bringing you into it."
"It is just the other way, sir," Bob said, "and it is very lucky for us that we came in here, sir, instead of going up to the Common, as we intended. One of the ushers found out that we had gone, and sat up until we came back and, if it had not been for you, we should not only have got a thrashing, but should all have been expelled; so it is the luckiest thing possible that we came in here."
"Well, I am very glad to hear that, boys. It has taken a load off my mind, for I have been thinking that, if you had not come in to help me, you would have got back without being noticed.
"Emma, these are the four lads who did us such good service, last night. They caught sight of you, before, but you were hardly in a state to receive them formally."
The young lady laughed, as she came forward and shook hands with them.
"You need not have mentioned that, papa.
"Well, I am very much obliged to you all; for I have no doubt they meant to have my watch and jewels, as well as papa's money."
"Now, it is time for us to be off," the admiral said. "My carriage is at the door, and a fly. You two, who have been knocked about, had better come with my daughter and myself. The others can either ride inside the fly, or one can go on the box of each vehicle, as you like."
Wharton and Fullarton both said that they should prefer going outside; and in a few minutes they were on their way, the three menservants riding inside the fly. The prisoners had been sent off, two hours before, in a cart; under the charge of the two local constables.
The case lasted but an hour, the four men being all committed for trial. The party then returned to Putney, the admiral insisting upon the boys stopping to lunch with him. After the meal was over, he inquired what they were going to do, on leaving school, and what profession they intended to adopt.
Bob was the first questioned.
"I am going to be a wine merchant, sir," he said. "I have got no choice about it. I lost my father and mother, years ago; and my guardian, who is an uncle of mine, is in the wine trade, and he says I have got to go in, too. I think it is horrid, but there is no good talking to him. He is an awfully crusty old chap. I should like to be a soldier, or a sailor; but of course it is of no use thinking of it. My guardian has been very kind to me, even though he is so crusty, and it wouldn't be right not to do as he tells me; and I don't suppose the wine business is so very bad, when one is accustomed to it."
"Has your uncle any sons, lad?"
"No, sir, he is an old bachelor; and he says that, some day, I am to have his business."
"Then you can't do better than stick to it, lad," the admiral said. "A boy who has before him the prospect of a solid, substantial living, on shore, is simply a fool if he goes to sea. It is a rough life, and a hard one; and if you don't get shot, or drowned, you may get laid on the shelf with the loss of a limb, and a pension that won't find you in grog and tobacco.
"It is a pity, for you would have made a good officer, but you will be vastly better off, in all respects, at home; and I can tell you there is not one sailor out of five who would not jump at a berth on shore, if he could get the chance."
Sankey's father was a country clergyman and, at present, Jim had no particular prospect.
"Would you like to go to sea, boy?"
"Yes, sir, I should like it of all things."
"Very well; give me your father's name and address, and I will write to him about it."
Fullarton's father was a landed proprietor in Somersetshire, and he was the eldest son. Wharton was to be a lawyer, and was to begin in his father's office, in a year or two. Admiral Langton took notes of the addresses of the boys' relatives.
When he had done that, he said to them:
"Now, lads, I know you would rather be off. I remember, when I was a midshipman, I was always glad enough to escape, when I had to dine with the captain."
A week later, a young man came down from a city watchmaker's, with four handsome gold watches and chains for the boys; with an inscription stating that they had been presented to them by Admiral Langton, in remembrance of their gallant conduct on the night of August 6th, 1778. They were immensely delighted with the gift; for watches were, in those days, far more expensive luxuries than at present, and their use was comparatively rare. With the watches were four short notes from the admiral, inviting them to come up on the following Saturday afternoon.
They had, by this time, received letters from their families, who had each received a communication from the admiral, expressing his warm commendation of their conduct, and his thanks for the services that the boys had rendered.
Jim Sankey's father wrote saying that the admiral had offered to procure him a berth as a midshipman, at once; and that he had written, thankfully accepting the offer, as he knew that it was what Jim had been most earnestly wishing--though, as he had no interest, whatever, among naval men, he had hitherto seen no chance of his being able to obtain such an appointment. This communication put Jim into a state of the wildest delight, and rendered him an object of envy to his schoolfellows.
Fullarton's father wrote his son a hearty letter, congratulating him on what he had done, and saying that he felt proud of the letter he had received from the admiral.
Wharton's father wrote to him sharply, saying that thief-taking was a business that had better be left to constables, and that he did not approve of freaks of that kind.
Mr. Bale wrote an irascible letter to Bob.
"My dear nephew," he began, "I am astonished, and most seriously displeased, at contents of communication I have received from a person signing himself J. Langton, admiral. I gather from it that, instead of pursuing your studies, you are wandering about at night, engaged in pursuits akin to poaching. I say akin, because I am not aware whether the wild animals upon the common are the property of the lord of the manor, or whether they are at the mercy of vagabonds. It appears to me that there can be no proper supervision exercised by your masters.
"I spoke to you when you were here, six weeks ago, as to your school reports which, although fairly satisfactory as to your abilities, said there was a great want of steadiness in your general conduct. I am convinced that you are doing no good for yourself, and that the sooner you settle down to a desk, in my office, the better. I have therefore written this morning, informing Mr. Tulloch that I shall remove you, at Michaelmas.
"Your sister has been here, with her husband, today. I am sorry to say that they do not view your wild and lawless conduct in the same light that I do, and that they are unable to see there is anything positively disreputable in your being mixed up in midnight adventures with burglars. I am glad to gather, from Admiral Langton's letter, that Mr. Tulloch has seen your conduct in the proper light, and has inflicted a well-merited punishment upon you.
"All this is a very bad preparation for your future career as a respectable trader, and I am most annoyed to hear that you will be called on to appear as a witness against the men who have been captured. I have written to Admiral Langton, acknowledging his letter, and expressing my surprise that a gentleman in his position should give any countenance, whatever, to a lad who has been engaged in breaking the rules of his school; and in wandering at night, like a vagabond, through the country."
Bob looked rather serious as he read through the letter for the first time but, after going through it again, he burst into a shout of laughter.
"What is it, Bob?" Tom Fullarton asked.
"Read this letter, Tom. I should like to have seen the admiral's face, as he read my uncle's letter. But it is too bad. You see, I have regularly done for myself. I was to have stopped here till a year come Christmas, and now I have to leave at Michaelmas. I call it a beastly shame."
It was some consolation to Bob to receive, next morning, a letter from his sister, saying she was delighted to hear how he had distinguished himself in the capture of the burglars.
"Of course, it was very wrong of you to get out at night; but Gerald says that boys are always up to tricks of that sort, and so I suppose that it wasn't so bad as it seems to me. Uncle John pretends to be in a terrible rage about it, but I don't think he is really as angry as he makes himself out to be. He blew me up, and said that I had always encouraged you--which of course I haven't--and when Gerald tried to say a good word for you, he turned upon him, and said something about fellow-feeling making men wondrous kind. Gerald only laughed, and said he was glad my uncle had such a good opinion of him, and that he should have liked to have been there, to lend a hand in the fight; and then uncle said something disagreeable, and we came away.
"But I feel almost sure that Uncle John is not really so angry as he seems; and I believe that, if Gerald and I had taken the other side, and had said that your conduct had been very wicked, he would have defended you. It was stupid of us not to think of it, for you know uncle always likes to disagree with other people--there is nothing he hates more than their agreeing with him. His bark is much worse than his bite, and you must not forget how good and kind he has been to us all.
"You know how angry he was with my marriage, and he said I had better have drowned myself, than have married a soldier; and I had better have hung myself, than have married an Irishman--specially when he had intended, all along, that I should marry the son of an old friend of his, a most excellent and well-conducted young man, with admirable prospects. But he came round in a month or two, and the first notice of it was a letter from his lawyer, saying that, in accordance with the instruction of his client, Mr. John Bale, he had drawn up and now enclosed a post-nuptial settlement, settling on me the sum of 5000 pounds consols; and that his client wished him to say that, had I married the person he had intended for me, that sum would have been doubled.
"The idea, when I never even saw the man! And when I wrote, thanking him, he made no allusion to what he had said before; but wrote that he should be glad, at all times, to see my husband and myself, whenever we came to town; but that, as I knew, his hours were regular, and the door always locked at ten o'clock--just as if Gerald was in the habit of coming in, drunk, in the middle of the night! Fortunately nothing puts Gerald out, and he screamed over it; and we went and stopped a week with uncle, a month afterwards, and he and Gerald got on capitally together, considering. Gerald said it was like a bear and a monkey in one cage, but it was really very funny.
"So I have no doubt he will come round, with you. Do try and not vex him more than you can help, Bob. You know how much we all owe him."
This was true. Bob's father had died when he was only three years old--he being a lawyer, with a good business, at Plymouth--but he had made no provision for his early death, and had left his wife and two children almost penniless. Mr. Bale had at once taken charge of them, and had made his sister an allowance that enabled her to live very comfortably. She had remained in Plymouth, as she had many friends there.
Her daughter Carrie--who was six years older than Bob--had, four years before, married Gerald O'Halloran, who was then a lieutenant in the 58th Regiment, which was in garrison there. He had a small income, derived from an estate in Ireland, besides his pay; but the young couple would have been obliged to live very economically, had it not been for the addition of the money settled on her by her uncle.
Her mother had died, a few months after the marriage; and Mr. Bale had at once placed Bob at the school, at Putney; and had announced his intention of taking him, in due time, into his business. The boy always spent one half of his holidays with his uncle, the other with his sister. The former had been a trial, both to him and to Mr. Bale. They saw but little of each other; for Mr. Bale, who, like most business men of the time, lived over his offices, went downstairs directly he had finished his breakfast, and did not come up again until his work was over when, at five o'clock, he dined. The meal over, he sometimes went out to the houses of friends, or to the halls of one or other of the city companies to which he belonged.
While Bob was with him, he told off one of the foremen in his business to go about with the boy. The days, therefore, passed pleasantly, as they generally went on excursions by water up or down the river or, sometimes, when it was not otherwise required, in a light cart used in the business, to Epping or Hainault Forest. Bob was expected to be back to dinner and, thanks to the foreman--who knew that his employer would not tolerate the smallest unpunctuality--he always succeeded in getting back in time to wash and change his clothes for dinner.
The meal was a very solemn one, Mr. Bale asking occasional questions, to which Bob returned brief answers. Once or twice the boy ventured upon some lively remark, but the surprise and displeasure expressed in his uncle's face, at this breach of the respectful silence then generally enforced upon the young, in the presence of their elders, deterred him from often trying the experiment.
Mr. Bale was as much bored as was Bob by these meals, and the evenings that sometimes followed them. He would have been glad to have chatted more freely with his nephew, but he was as ill at ease with him, as he would have been with a young monkey. There was nothing in common between them, and the few questions he asked were the result of severe cogitation. He used to glance at the boy from under his eyebrows, wonder what he was smiling to himself about, and wish that he understood him better. It did not occur to him that if he had drawn him out, and encouraged him to chatter as he liked, he should get underneath the surface, and might learn something of the nature hidden there. It was in sheer desperation, at finding nothing to say, that he would often seize his hat and go out, when he had quite made up his mind to stay indoors for the evening.
Bob put up, as well as he could, with his meals and the dull evenings, for the sake of the pleasant time he had during the day; but he eagerly counted the hours until the time when he was to take his place on the coach for Canterbury, where the 58th were now quartered. He looked forward with absolute dread to the time when he would have to enter his uncle's office.
"What is the use of being rich, Carrie," he would say to his sister, "if one lives as uncle does? I would rather work in the fields."
"Yes, Bob; but you see, when you get to be rich you needn't live in the same way, at all. You could live as some traders do, in the country at Hampstead, Dulwich, or Chelsea, and ride in to business; and you can, of course, marry and enjoy life. One needn't live like a hermit, all alone, because one is a trader in the city."
The one consolation Bob had was that his uncle had once said that he considered it was a great advantage, to any young man going into the wine trade, to go over to Spain or Portugal for two or three years; to learn the whole routine of business there, to study the different growths and know their values, and to form a connection among the growers and shippers. Bob had replied gravely that he thought this would certainly be a great advantage, and that he hoped his uncle would send him over there.
"I shall see, when the time comes, Robert. It will, of course, depend much upon the relations between this country and Spain and Portugal; and also upon yourself. I could not, of course, let you go out there until I was quite assured of your steadiness of conduct. So far, although I have nothing to complain of, myself, your schoolmaster's reports are by no means hopeful, on that head. Still, we must hope that you will improve."
It was terrible to Bob to learn that he was to go, fifteen months sooner than he had expected, to his uncle's; but he was somewhat relieved when, upon his arrival at the house at Philpot Lane, his uncle, after a very grave lecture on the enormity of his conduct at school, said:
"I have been thinking, Robert, that it will be more pleasant, both for you and for me, that you should not, at present, take up your abode here. I am not accustomed to young people. It would worry me having you here and, after your companionship with boys of your own age, you might find it somewhat dull.
"I have therefore arranged with Mr. Medlin, my principal clerk, for you to board with him. He has, I believe, some boys and girls of about your own age. You will, I hope, be able to make yourself comfortable there."
"Thank you, uncle," Bob said, suppressing his impulse to give a shout of satisfaction, and looking as grave as possible. "I think that would be a very nice arrangement."
"Mr. Medlin is a very trustworthy person," Mr. Bale went on. "He has been with me for upwards of twenty years, and I have the greatest confidence in him.
"You had better sit down here, and take a book. At five o'clock come down into the counting house. Mr. Medlin will leave at that hour."
Bob had hitherto avoided the counting house. He had occasionally, on previous visits, slipped down to his friend the foreman; and had wandered through the great cellars, and watched the men at work bottling, and gazed in surprise at the long tiers of casks stacked up to the roof of the cellar, and the countless bottles stowed away in the bins. Once or twice he had gone down into the counting house, with his uncle; and waited there a few minutes, until the foreman was disengaged. He had noticed Mr. Medlin at work at his high desk, in one corner--keeping, as it seemed to him, his eye upon two young clerks, who sat on high stools at opposite sides of the desk, on the other side of the office.
Mr. Medlin had a little rail round the top of his desk, and curtains on rods that could be drawn round it. He was a man of six or seven and thirty; with a long face, smooth shaven. He always seemed absorbed in his work and, when spoken to by Mr. Bale, answered in the fewest possible words, in an even, mechanical voice. It had seemed to Bob that he had been entirely oblivious to his presence; and it did not appear to him now, as he sat with a book before him, waiting for the clock on the mantel to strike five, that existence at Mr. Medlin's promised to be a lively one. Still, as there were boys and girls, it must be more amusing than it would be at his uncle's and, at any rate, the clerk would not be so formidable a personage to deal with as Mr. Bale.
At one minute to five he went down, so as to open the counting house door as the clock struck. As he went in through the outer door, his uncle came out from the inner office.
"Ah! There you are, Robert.
"Mr. Medlin, this is my nephew who, as we have arranged, will take up his residence with you. I am afraid you will find him somewhat headstrong and troublesome. I have already informed you why it has been necessary to remove him from school. However, I trust that there will be no repetition of such follies; and that he will see the necessity of abandoning schoolboy pranks, and settling down to business."
"Yes, sir," Mr. Medlin replied, seeing that his employer expected an answer.
Bob had noticed that, although the clerk's eyes were directed upon him, there appeared to be no expression of interest or curiosity in them; but that they might as well have been fixed upon a blank wall.
"Your boxes have already been sent round in the cart to Mr. Medlin's, Robert. I don't know that there is anything else to say. Mr. Medlin will, of course, put you in the way of your duties here; but if you have anything to say to me--any questions to ask, or any remarks, connected with the business, or otherwise, you wish to make--I shall always be ready to listen to you, if you will come into the counting house at half past four."
So saying, Mr. Bale retired into his private room again. Mr. Medlin placed his papers inside his desk, locked it, took off his coat and hung it on a peg, put on another coat and his hat, and then turned to Bob.
"Ready?"
"Quite ready."
Mr. Medlin led the way out of the counting house, and Bob followed. Mr. Medlin walked fast, and Bob had to step out to keep up with him. The clerk appeared scarcely conscious of his presence, until they were beyond the more crowded thoroughfare, then he said:
"Two miles, out Hackney way. Not too far!"
"Not at all," Bob replied. "The farther the better."
"No burglars there. Wouldn't pay."
And Bob thought that the shadow of a smile passed across his face.
"We can do without them," Bob said.
"Hate coming here, I suppose?"
"That I do," Bob said, cordially.
Mr. Medlin nodded.
"Not so bad as it looks," he said, and then walked on again, in silence.
Presently there was a break in the houses. They were getting beyond the confines of business London.
"Do you see this little garden?" Mr. Medlin asked, suddenly, in a tone so unlike that in which he had before spoken that Bob quite started.
The lad looked at the little patch of ground, with some stunted shrubs, but could see nothing remarkable in it.
"Yes, I see it, sir," he said.
"That, Bob," Mr. Medlin went on, "--for I suppose you are called Bob--marks the end of all things."
Bob opened his eyes in astonishment, and again examined the little garden.
"It marks, Bob, the delimitation between London and country, between slavery and freedom. Here, every morning, I leave myself behind; here, every evening, I recover myself--or, at least, a considerable portion of myself--at a further mark, half a mile on, I am completely restored.
"I suppose you used to find just the same thing, at the door of the schoolroom?"
"A good deal, sir," Bob said, in a much brighter tone than he had used, since he said goodbye to the fellows at Tulloch's.
"I am glad you feel like that. I expect you will get like that, as to the city, in time; but mind, lad, you must always find yourself again. You stick to that. You make a mark somewhere, leave yourself behind in the morning, and pick yourself up again when you come back. It is a bad thing for those who forget to do that. They might as well hang themselves--better.
"In there," and he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, "we are all machines, you know. It isn't us, not a bit of it. There is just the flesh, the muscle, the bones, and a frozen bit of our brains. The rest of us is left behind. If, as we come out, we forget to pick it up, we lose ourselves altogether, before long; and then there we are, machines to the end of our lives. You remember that, Bob. Keep it always in mind."
"It is a pity that my uncle didn't get the same advice, forty years ago, Mr. Medlin."
"It is a pity my employer did not marry. It is a pity my employer lives in that dull house, in that dull lane, all by himself," Mr. Medlin said, angrily.
"But he has not got rid of himself, altogether. He is a good deal frozen up; but he thaws out, sometimes. What a man he would be, if he would but live out somewhere, and pick himself up regularly, as I do, every day!
"This is my second mark, Bob, this tree growing out in the road. Now, you see, we are pretty well in the country.
"Can you run?"
"Yes, I can run pretty well, Mr. Medlin."
"Very well, Bob. You see that tree growing out beyond that garden wall, about four hundred yards on. It is four hundred and twenty, for I have measured it. Now then, you walk on fifty yards, and then run for your life. See if I don't catch you, before you are there."
Bob, wondering as he went along at the astounding change that had come over his companion, took fifty long steps; then he heard a shout of "Now!" and went off at the top of his speed. He was still a hundred yards from the mark, when he heard steps coming rapidly up behind him; and then the clerk dashed past him, and came in fully twenty yards ahead.
"You don't run badly," he said, as Bob stopped, panting. "My Jack generally comes to meet me, and I always give him seventy yards, and only beat him by about as much as I do you. He couldn't come, this afternoon. He is busy helping his mother to get things straight. I expect we shall meet him, presently.
"Well, what are you laughing at?"
"I was just thinking how astonished my uncle would be, if he were to see us."
Mr. Medlin gave a hearty laugh.
"Not so much as you would think, Bob. Five years ago, my employer suddenly asked me, just as we were shutting up one afternoon, if I was fond of fishing. I said that I used to be.
"He said, 'I am going down, for a fortnight, into Hampshire. I have no one to go with--suppose you come with me.'
"I said, 'I will.'
"He said, 'Coach tomorrow morning, eight o'clock, Black Horse Yard.'
"I was there. As we went over London Bridge I found myself, as usual; and he found himself. I explained to him that I could not help it. He said he didn't want me to help it. We had a glorious fortnight together, and we have been out every year, since. He never alludes to it, between times. No more do I. He is stiffer than usual for a bit. So am I. But we both know each other.
"You do not suppose that he would have sent you to me, if he hadn't known that I have got another side to me?"
"Well, I should not have thought," Bob said, "from the way he talked, when he introduced me to you, that he ever had such an idea in his mind."
"He was obliged to talk so," Mr. Medlin said, laughing. "We were just machines at the time, both of us. But he talked in quite a different way when we were down fishing together, three weeks ago. He said then you were rather a pickle, and that he didn't think you would do yourself any good where you were, so that he was going to bring you up to business.
"'I don't want him to turn out a dull blockhead,' he said, 'and so I propose that you should take charge of him, and teach him to keep himself young. I wish I had done it, myself.'
"And so it was settled.
"There is no better employer in the city than your uncle. There is not a man or boy about the place who isn't well paid, and contented. I used to think myself a lucky man, before we went out fishing together for the first time but, six months after that, he gave me a rise that pretty well took my breath away.
"Ah! Here come the young uns."
A couple of minutes later, four young people ran up. There was a boy about Bob's age, a girl a year younger, a boy, and another girl, in regular steps. They greeted their father with a joyous shout of welcome.
"So you have got everything done," he said. "I thought you would meet me somewhere here.
"This is Bob Repton, my employer's nephew, and future member of the firm. Treat him with all respect, and handle him gently. He is a desperate fellow, though he doesn't look it. This is the young gentleman I told you of, who made a night expedition and captured four burglars."
After this introduction, Bob was heartily shaken by the hand, all round; and the party proceeded on their way, the two girls holding their father's hand, the boys walking behind, with Bob, who was so surprised at the unexpected turn affairs had taken that, for a time, he almost lost his usual readiness of speech.
[Chapter 3]: An Unexpected Journey.
Hawthorne Cottage, Mr. Medlin's abode, was a pretty little house, standing detached in a good-sized garden, surrounded by a high wall.
"Here we are, mother," the clerk said, as he led the way into a cozy room, where tea was laid upon the table, while a bright fire blazed in the grate.
A very pleasant-faced lady, who did not look to Bob more than thirty--although she must have been four or five years older--greeted her husband affectionately.
"My dear," he said, "in the exuberance of your feelings, you forget that I have brought you home a visitor. This is Mr. Robert Repton. While he is resident in the house, he may be greeted as Bob. We had a race, and he runs faster than Jack; fifty yards, in four hundred and twenty, is the utmost I can give him."
"What nonsense you do talk, Will!" his wife said, laughing. "I am sure Master Repton must think you out of your mind."
"It is a very jolly way of being out of his mind, Mrs. Medlin. You don't know how pleased I am."
"He thought I was an ogre, my dear, and that you were an ogress.
"Now let the banquet be served; for I am hungry, and I expect Bob is, too. As for the children, they are always hungry--at least, it seems so."
It was a merry meal, and Bob thought he had never enjoyed one as much, except at his sister's. After tea they had music; and he found that Mr. Medlin performed admirably on the violin, his wife played the spinet, Jack the clarionet, and Sophy--the eldest girl--the piccolo.
"She is going to learn the harp, presently," Mr. Medlin explained; "but for the present, when we have no visitors--and I don't count you one, after this evening--she plays the piccolo. She is a little shy about it, but shyness is the failing of my family."
"It is very jolly," Bob said. "I wish I could play an instrument."
"We will see about it, in time, Bob. We want a French horn; but I don't see, at present, where you are to practise."
"Has uncle ever been here?" Bob asked, late in the evening.
"Yes, he came here the evening we got back from our fishing expedition. He wanted to see the place, before he finally settled about you coming here. My wife was a little afraid of him; but there was no occasion, and everything went off capitally--except that Sophy would not produce her piccolo. I walked back with him, till he came upon a hackney coach.
"He said as he got in, 'I have spent a most pleasant evening, Medlin. You are a very lucky fellow.'
"I went back to work the next morning, and we both dropt into the old groove; and nothing more was said until yesterday, when he informed me that you would come, today."
"Oh, dear!" Bob said, as he started with the clerk, at eight o'clock on the following morning. "Now I am going to begin at that wretched counting house."
"No, you are not, Bob. You are not coming in there, at present. When your uncle and I were talking--when we were fishing, you know--he said that he saw no use in your going in there, at present; and thought it would be quite time for you to learn how the books are kept, in another three or four years; and that, till then, you could go into the cellar. You will learn bottling, and packing, and blending, and something about the quality and value of wines. You will find it much more pleasant than being shut up in a counting house, making out bills and keeping ledgers."
"A great deal," Bob said, joyfully. "I sha'n't mind that at all."
Bob observed a noticeable change in his companion's demeanour, when he arrived at the tree and, on passing the last garden, his face assumed a stolid expression; his brisk, springy walk settled down into a business pace; his words became few; and he was again a steady, and mechanical, clerk.
A fortnight later, Bob was summoned to the counting house.
"Mr. Bale wishes to see you," Mr. Medlin said.
Bob entered, wondering what he was wanted for.
"I received a subpoena, a week ago, Robert, for you to attend as a witness at Kingston tomorrow. These interruptions to business are very annoying. I did not mention it to you before for, if I had done so, you would be thinking of nothing else.
"This morning I have received a letter from Admiral Langton, requesting me to allow you to go down by the stage, this afternoon, and to sleep at his house. He will take you over, in the morning; and you will sleep there again, tomorrow night, and come back by the early stage.
"I trust that you will endeavour to curb your exuberance of spirits. This is a very grave matter, and anything like levity would be altogether out of place.
"The letter says that the stage leaves the Bell Tavern at four o'clock."
Bob replied, gravely, that he would be there in time; and went off to his work again, until twelve o'clock.
When he arrived at the admiral's, at a quarter to six, a lad in midshipman's uniform came rushing out into the hall.
"Hulloa, Bob!"
"Why, Jim!--but no, I suppose I ought to say Mr. James Sankey, to an officer of your importance. How comes it, sir, that you are so soon attired in His Majesty's uniform?"
"I will punch your head, Bob, if you go on with that nonsense.
"But I say, isn't it jolly? The very afternoon after you left came down a big letter, with a tremendous seal; and therein I was informed that I was appointed to His Majesty's ship Brilliant, and was ordered to join immediately. Of course, I did not know what to do, so I came up here; and who do you think I found here? Captain Langton, the admiral's son, who is in command of the Brilliant.
"Of course, it was he who had got me the appointment. He was very kind, and told me that I could not join until after this trial; so that I could go down home, and stop there, till today; and the admiral sent me straight off, to be measured for my uniform. When I started, next day, he gave me a letter to my father--an awfully nice letter it was, saying that he intended to present me with my first outfit. I got here about an hour ago, and have been putting on my uniform, to see how it fitted."
"You mean to see how you looked in it, Jim? It looks first rate. I wish I was in one too, and was going with you, instead of sticking in Philpot Lane."
"I am awfully sorry for you, Bob. It must be beastly."
"Well, it is not so bad as I expected, Jim, and uncle is turning out much better; and I don't live there, but with the head clerk, out at Hackney. He is an awfully jolly sort of fellow--you never saw such a rum chap. I will tell you all about it, afterwards.
"I suppose I ought to go in, and see the admiral."
"He is out, at present, Bob. He will be back at eight o'clock to supper, so you can come up and tell me all about it. Captain Langton is here, too."
Captain Langton spoke very kindly to Bob, when the two boys came down to supper; and told him that if, at any time, he changed his mind, and there was a vacancy for a midshipman on board his ship, he would give him the berth.
"I should be very glad to have you with me," he said, "after the service you rendered my father and sister."
On the following morning, Fullarton and Wharton came up from the school, and two carriages conveyed the witnesses over to Kingston. The prisoners, Bob heard, were notorious and desperate criminals, whom the authorities had long been anxious to lay hands on. The butler was one of the gang, and had obtained his post by means of a forged character. The trial only occupied two hours for, taken in the act as the men were, there was no defence whatever. All four were sentenced to be hung, and the judge warmly complimented the four boys upon their conduct in the matter.
The next morning, Bob returned to his work in the city.
For the next three months, his existence was a regular one. On arriving in the cellar, he took off his jacket and put on a large apron, that completely covered him; and from that time until five o'clock he worked with the other boys: bottling, packing, storing the bottles away in the bins, or taking them down as required. He learned, from the foreman, something of the localities from which the wine came, their value and prices; but had not begun to distinguish them by taste, or bouquet. Mr. Bale, the foreman said, had given strict orders that he was not to begin tasting, at present.
Three days before Christmas, one of the clerks brought him down word that Mr. Bale wished to see him in the office, at five o'clock.
During the three, months he had scarcely spoken to his uncle. The latter had nodded to him, whenever he came into the cellar; and had regularly said, "Well, Robert, how are you getting on?"
To which he had, as regularly, replied, "Very well, uncle."
He supposed that the present meeting was for the purpose of inviting him to dine at Philpot Lane, on Christmas Day; and although he knew that he should enjoy the festivity more, at Hackney, he was prepared to accept it very willingly.
"I have sent for you, Robert," Mr. Bale said, when he entered his office, "to say that your sister has written to ask me to go down to spend Christmas with her, at Portsmouth. As her husband's regiment is on the point of going abroad, I have decided on accepting her invitation and, for the same reason, I shall take you down with me. You will therefore have your box packed, tonight. I shall send down a cart to fetch it, tomorrow. You will sleep here tomorrow night, and we start the next morning."
"Thank you very much, uncle," Bob said, in delight; and then, seeing that nothing further was expected of him, he ran off to join Mr. Medlin, who was waiting for him outside.
"What do you think, Mr. Medlin? I am going down to spend Christmas at my sister's."
"Ah!" the clerk said, in a dull unsympathetic voice. "Well, mind how you walk, Mr. Robert. It does not look well, coming out from a place of business as if you were rushing out of school."
Bob knew well enough that it was no use, whatever, trying to get his companion to take any interest in matters unconnected with business, at present; so he dropped into his regular pace, and did not open his lips again, until they had passed the usual boundary.
Then Mr. Medlin said, briskly, "So you are going down to your sister's, Bob!"
"Yes, that will be first rate, won't it? Of course, I went down in the summer to Canterbury, and hardly expected to go again this year. As I have only been three months here, I did not even think of going.
"It will be the last holiday I shall have, for some time. You know Carrie said, when she wrote to me a month ago, that the regiment expected to be ordered abroad soon; and uncle said it is on the point of going, now.
"He is coming down with me."
His voice fell a little, at this part of the announcement.
"He is, eh? You think you will have to be on your best behaviour, Bob?"
"Before you told me about him, Mr. Medlin, I should have thought it would quite spoil the holiday. But I do not feel it so bad, now."
"He will be all right, Bob. You have never seen him outside the city, yet. Still, I shouldn't be up to any tricks with him, you know, if I were you--shouldn't put cobbler's wax on his pigtail, or anything of that sort."
"As if I should think of such a thing, Mr. Medlin!"
"Well, I don't know, Bob. You have made Jack pretty nearly as wild as you are, yourself. You are quite a scandal to the neighbourhood, you two. You nearly frightened those two ladies next door into fits, last week, by carrying in that snowman, and sticking it up in their garden, when you knew they were out. I thought they were both going to have fits, when they rushed in to tell me there was a ghost in their garden."
"I believe you suggested it yourself, Mr. Medlin," Bob said, indignantly. "Besides, it served them right, for coming in to complain that we had thrown stones and broken their window, when we had done nothing of the sort."
"It was rather lucky for you that they did so, Bob; for you see, we were all so indignant, then, that they didn't venture to accuse you of the snowman business--though I have no doubt they were convinced, in their own minds, that it was you. But that is only one out of twenty pranks that you and Jack have been up to."
"Jack and I and someone else, Mr Medlin. We carry them out, but I think someone else always suggests them."
"Not suggest, Bob--far from it. If I happen to say that it would be a most reprehensible thing if anyone were to do something, somehow or other that is the very thing that Jack and you do. It was only last week I said that it would be a very objectionable trick if anyone was to tie paper bands round the neck of the clergyman's black cat--who is always stealing our chickens--and to my surprise, the next morning, when we started for business, there was quite a crowd outside his house, watching the cat calmly sitting over the porch, with white bands round its neck. Now, that is an example of what I mean."
"Quite so, Mr. Medlin, that is just what I meant, too; and it was much better than throwing stones at him. It is a savage beast, though it does look so demure; and scratched Jack's hand and mine, horribly, when we were tying on the bands."
At the tree the others met them, and they laughed and chatted all the way back; the young ones expressing much regret, however, that Bob was to be away at Christmas.
At the appointed time, Mr. Bale and Bob took their places on the coach. The latter felt a little oppressed; for his uncle had, the evening before, been putting him through a sort of examination as to the value of wines; and had been exceedingly severe when Bob had not acquitted himself to his satisfaction, but had mixed up Malaga with Madeira, and had stated that a French wine was grown near Cadiz.
"I expect I shall know them better when I get to taste them," Bob had urged, in excuse. "When you don't know anything about the wines, it is very difficult to take an interest in them. It is like learning that a town in India is on the Ganges. You don't care anything about the town, and you don't care anything about the Ganges; and you are sure to mix it up, next time, with some other town on some other river."
"If those are your ideas, Robert, I think you had better go to bed," Mr. Bale had said, sternly; and Bob had gone to bed, and had thought what a nuisance it was that his uncle was going down to Portsmouth, just when he wanted to be jolly with Carrie and her husband for the last time.
Little had been said at breakfast, and it was not until the coach was rattling along the high road, and the last house had been left behind him, that Bob's spirits began to rise. There had been a thaw, a few days before, and the snow had disappeared; but it was now freezing sharply again.
"The air is brisk. Do you feel it cold, Robert?" Mr. Bale said, breaking silence for the first time.
"I feel cold about the toes, and about the ears and nose, uncle," Bob said, "but I am not very likely to feel cold, anywhere else."
His uncle looked down at the boy, who was wedged in between him and a stout woman.
"Well, no," he agreed; "you are pretty closely packed. You had better pull that muffler over your ears more. It was rather different weather when you went down to Canterbury in the summer."
"That it was," Bob replied, heartily. "It was hot and dusty, just; and there were a man and woman, sitting opposite, who kept on drinking out of a bottle, every five minutes. She had a baby with her, too, who screamed almost all the way. I consider I saved that baby's life."
"How was that, Robert?"
"Well you see, uncle, they had finished their bottle by the time we got to Sevenoaks; and we all got down for dinner there and, before we sat down, the man went to the bar and got it filled up again. A pint of gin, filled up with water--I heard him order it. He put it in the pocket of his coat, and hung the coat up on a peg when he sat down to dinner.
"I was not long over my dinner, and finished before they did; and I took the bottle out, and ran out to the yard and emptied it, and filled it up with water, and put it back in the pocket again, without his noticing it.
"You should have seen what a rage he was in, when he took his first sip from the bottle, after we had started. He thought the man at the inn had played him a trick, and he stood up and shouted to the coachman to turn back again; but of course he wasn't going to do that, and every one laughed--except the woman. I think she had had more than was good for her, already, and she cried for about an hour.
"The next two places where we changed horses, we did it so quick that the man hadn't time to get down. The third place he did and, though the guard said we shouldn't stop a minute, he went into the public house. The guard shouted, but he didn't come out, and off we went without him. Then he came out running, and waving his arms, but the coachman wouldn't stop. The woman got down, with the child, at the next place we changed horses; and I suppose they went on next day and, if they started sober, they did perhaps get to Dover all right."
"That was a very nasty trick," the woman, who was sitting next to Bob, said sharply.
Bob had noticed that she had already opened a basket on her lap, and had partaken of liquid refreshment.
"But you see, I saved the baby, ma'am," Bob said, humbly. "The woman was sitting at the end and, if she had taken her share of the second bottle, the chances are she would have dropped the baby. It was a question of saving life, you see."
Bob felt a sudden convulsion in his uncle's figure.
"It is all very well to talk in that way," the woman said, angrily. "It was just a piece of impudence, and you ought to have been flogged for it. I have no patience with such impudent doings. A wasting of good liquor, too."
"I don't think, madam," Mr. Bale said, "it was as much wasted as it would have been, had they swallowed it; for at least it did no harm. I cannot see myself why, because people get outside a coach, they should consider it necessary to turn themselves into hogs."
"I will trouble you to keep your insinuations to yourself," the woman said, in great indignation. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, at your age, encouraging a boy in such ways. There is them as can stand the cold, and there's them as can't; and a little good liquor helps them, wonderful. I am sich, myself."
And she defiantly took out her bottle from her basket, and applied it to her lips.
"I was not speaking personally, my good woman," Mr. Bale said.
"I would have you to know," the woman snapped, "that I ain't your good woman. I wouldn't demean myself to the like. I will ask this company if it is right as a unprotected female should be insulted, on the outside of one of His Majesty's mails?"
The other passengers, who had been struggling with their laughter, endeavoured to pacify her with the assurance that no insult had been meant; and as Mr. Bale made no reply, she subsided into silence, grumbling occasionally to herself.
"I am a-going down," she broke out, presently, "to meet my husband, and I don't mind who knows it. He is a warrant officer, he is, on board the Latona, as came in last week with two prizes. There ain't nothing to be ashamed of, in that.
"And I will thank you, boy," she said, turning sharply upon Bob, "not to be a-scrouging me so. I pay for my place, I do."
"I think you ought to pay for two places," Bob said. "I am sure you have got twice as much room as I have. And if there is any scrouging, it isn't me."
"Would you have any objection, sir," the woman said majestically, to a man sitting on the other side of her, "to change places with me? I ain't a-going to bear no longer with the insults of this boy, and of the person as calls himself a man, a-sitting next to him."
The change was effected, to Bob's great satisfaction.
"You see, Robert, what you have brought down upon me," Mr. Bale said. "This comes of your telling stories about bottles, when there is a woman with one in her basket next to you."
"I really was not thinking of her when I spoke, uncle. But I am glad, now, for I really could hardly breathe, before.
"Why, uncle, I had no idea you smoked!" he added, as Mr. Bale took a cigar case from his pocket.
"I do not smoke, when I am in the city, Robert; but I see no harm in a cigar--in fact I like one--at other times. I observed a long pipe on the mantelpiece, at Mr. Medlin's; and indeed, I have seen that gentleman smoke, when we have been out together, but I have never observed him indulging in that habit, in the city."
"Oh, yes! He smokes at home," Bob said.
"I have great confidence in Mr. Medlin, Robert. You have been comfortable with him, I hope?"
"Could not be more comfortable, sir."
"An excellent man of business, Robert, and most trustworthy. A serious-minded man."
Bob was looking up, and saw a little twinkle in Mr. Bale's eye.
"You don't find it dull, I hope?"
"Not at all dull, sir. Mr. Medlin and his family are very musical."
"Musical, are they, Robert?" Mr. Bale said, in a tone of surprise. "As far as I have seen in the counting house, I should not have taken him to be musical."
"No, I don't think you would, uncle. Just the same way as one wouldn't think it likely that you would smoke a cigar."
"Well, no, Robert. You see, one must not always go by appearances."
"No, sir; that is just what Mr. Medlin says," Bob replied, smiling.
"Oh, he says that, does he? I suppose he has been telling you that we go out fishing together?"
"He did mention that, sir."
"You must not always believe what Medlin says, Robert."
"No, sir? I thought you told me he was perfectly trustworthy?"
"In some points, boy; but it is notorious that, from all times, the narratives of fishermen must be received with a large amount of caution. The man who can be trusted with untold gold cannot be relied upon to give, with even an approach to accuracy, the weights of the fish he has caught; and indeed, all his statements with reference to the pursuit must be taken with a large discount.
"You were surprised, when you heard that I went fishing, Robert?"
"Not more surprised than I was when you lit your cigar, sir."
"Well, you know what Horace said, Robert. I forget what it was in the Latin, but it meant:
"'He is a poor soul, who never rejoices.'
"The bow must be relaxed, Robert, or it loses its stiffness and spring. I, myself, always bear this in mind; and endeavour to forget that there is such a place as the city of London, or a place of business called Philpot Lane, directly I get away from it."
"Don't you think that you could forget, too, uncle, that the name I am known by in the city is Robert; and that my name, at all other times, is Bob?"
"I will try to do so, if you make a point of it," Mr. Bale said, gravely; "but at the same time, it appears to me that Bob is a name for a short-tailed sheepdog, rather than for a boy."
"I don't mind who else is called by it, uncle. Besides, sheepdogs are very useful animals."
"They differ from boys in one marked respect, Bob."
"What is that, uncle?"
"They always attend strictly to business, lad. They are most conscientious workers. Now, this is more than can be said for boys."
"But I don't suppose the sheepdogs do much, while they are puppies, uncle."
"Humph! I think you have me there, Bob. I suppose we must make allowances for them both.
"Well, we shall be at Guildford in half an hour, and will stop there for dinner. I shall not be sorry to get down to stamp my feet a bit. It is very cold here, in spite of these rugs."
It was seven o'clock in the evening when the coach drew up at the George Hotel, in Portsmouth. Captain O'Halloran was at the door to meet them.
"Well, Mr. Bale, you have had a coldish drive down, today.
"How are you, Bob?"
"At present, I am cold," Bob said. "The last two hours have been bitter."
"I have taken bedrooms here for you, Mr. Bale. There is no barrack accommodation, at present, for everyone is back from leave. Any other time, we could have put you up.
"Now, if you will point out your baggage, my man will see it taken up to your rooms; and you can come straight on to me. Carrie has got supper ready, and a big fire blazing. It is not three minutes' walk from here."
They were soon seated at table and, after the meal was over, they drew round the fire.
"So you have really become a man of business, Bob," his sister said. "I was very glad to hear, from your letter, that you liked it better than you expected."
"But it will be a long while, yet, before he is a man of business, niece. It is like having a monkey in a china shop. The other day I went down to the cellar, just in time to see him put down a bottle so carelessly that it tumbled over. Unfortunately there was a row of them he had just filled; and a dozen went down, like ninepins. The corks had not been put in, and half the contents were lost before they could be righted. And the wine was worth eighty shillings a dozen."
"And what can you expect of him, Mr. Bale?" Gerald O'Halloran said. "Is it a spalpeen like that you would trust with the handling of good wine? I would as soon set a cat to bottle milk."
"He is young for it, yet," Mr. Bale agreed. "But when a boy amuses himself by breaking out of school at three o'clock in the morning, and fighting burglars, what are you to do with him?"
"I should give him a medal, for his pluck, Mr. Bale; and let him do something where he would have a chance of showing his spirit."
"And make him as wild and harum-scarum as you are, yourself, O'Halloran; and then expect him to turn out a respectable merchant, afterwards? I am sure I don't wish to be troubled with him, till he has got rid of what you call his spirits; but what are you to do with such a pickle as this? There have been more bottles broken, since he came, than there ordinarily are in the course of a year; and I suspect him of corrupting my chief clerk, and am in mortal apprehension that he will be getting into some scrape, at Hackney, and make the place too hot for him.
"I never gave you credit for much brains, Carrie, but how it was you let your brother grow up like this is more than I can tell."
Although this all sounded serious, Bob did not feel at all alarmed. Carrie, however, thought that her uncle was greatly vexed, and tried to take up the cudgels in his defence.
"I am sure Bob does not mean any harm, uncle."
"I did not say that he did, niece; but if he does harm, it comes to the same thing.
"Well, we need not talk about that now. So I hear that you are going out to the Mediterranean?"
"Yes, uncle, to Gibraltar. It is a nice station, everyone says, and I am very pleased. There are so many places where there is fighting going on, now, that I think we are most fortunate in going there. I was so afraid the regiment might be sent either to America, or India."
"And I suppose you would rather have gone where there was fighting, O'Halloran?"
"I would," the officer said, promptly. "What is the use of your going into the army, if you don't fight?"
"I should say, what is the use of going into the army, at all?" Mr. Bale said, testily. "Still, I suppose someone must go."
"I suppose so, sir," Captain O'Halloran said, laughing. "If it were not for the army and navy, I fancy you trading gentlemen would very soon find the difference. Besides, there are some of us born to it. I should never have made a figure in the city, for instance."
"I fancy not," Mr. Bale said, dryly. "You will understand, O'Halloran, that I am not objecting in the slightest to your being in the army. My objection solely lies in the fact that you, being in the army, should have married my niece; and that, instead of coming to keep house for me, comfortably, she is going to wander about, with you, to the ends of the earth."
Carrie laughed.
"How do you know someone else would not have snapped me up, if he hadn't, uncle?"
"That is right, Carrie.
"You would have found her twice as difficult to manage as Bob, Mr. Bale. You would never have kept her in Philpot Lane, if I hadn't taken her. There are some people can be tamed down, and there are some who can't; and Carrie is one of the latter.
"I should pity you, from my heart, if you had her on your hands, Mr. Bale. If ever I get to be a colonel, it is she will command the regiment."
"Well, it is good that one of us should have sense, Gerald," his wife said, laughing. "And now, you had better put the whisky on the table, unless uncle would prefer some mulled port wine."
"Neither one nor the other, my dear. Your brother is half asleep, now, and it is as much as I can do to keep my eyes open. After the cold ride we have had, the sooner we get back to the George, the better.
"We will breakfast there, Carrie. I don't know what your hours are but, when I am away on a holiday, I always give myself a little extra sleep. Besides, your husband will, I suppose, have to be on duty; and I have no doubt it will suit you, as well as me, for us to breakfast at the George."
"Perhaps it will be better, uncle, if you don't mind. Gerald happens to be orderly officer for the day, and will have to get his breakfast as he can, and will be busy all the morning; but I shall be ready for you by ten."
At that hour Bob appeared, alone.
"Uncle won't come round till one o'clock, Carrie. He said he should take a quiet stroll round, by himself, and look at the ships; and that, no doubt, we should like to have a talk together."
"Is he very cross with you, Bob?" she asked, anxiously. "You know he really is kind at heart, very kind; but I am afraid he must be very hard, as a master."
"Not a bit, Carrie. I expected he was going to be so, but he isn't the least like that. He is very much liked by everyone there. He doesn't say much, and he certainly looks stiff and grim enough for anything; but he isn't so, really, not a bit."
"Didn't he scold you dreadfully about your upsetting those twelve bottles of wine?"
"He never said a word about it, and I did not know at the time he had seen me. John, the foreman--the one who used to take me out in the holidays--would not have said anything about it. He said, of course accidents did happen, sometimes, with the boys; and when they did, he himself blew them up, and there was no occasion to mention it to Mr. Bale, when it wasn't anything very serious. But of course, I could not have that; and said that either he must tell uncle, or I should.
"It really happened because my fingers were so cold I could not feel the bottle. Of course the cellar is not cold, but I had been outside, taking in a waggon load of bottles that had just arrived, and counting them, and my fingers got regularly numbed.
"So John went to the counting house, and told him about the wine being spilt. He said I wished him to tell him, and how it had happened."
"What did uncle say, Bob?"
"He said he was glad to hear that I told John to tell him; but that he knew it already, for he had just come down to the cellar when the bottles went over and, as he didn't wish to interfere with the foreman's work, had come back to the counting house without anyone noticing he had been there. He said, of course boys could not be trusted like men; and that, as he had chosen to put me there, he must put up with accidents. He never spoke about it to me, till last night."
"Well, he seemed very vexed about it, Bob, and made a great deal of it."
"He didn't mean it, Carrie; and he knew I knew he didn't mean it. He knows I am beginning to understand him."
That evening, Mr. Bale sent Bob back to the hotel by himself.
"I thought I would get him out of the way," he said, when Bob had left. "I wanted to have a chat with you about him.
"You see, Carrie, I acted hastily in taking him away from school; but it seemed to me that he must be getting into a very bad groove, to be playing such pranks as breaking out in the middle of the night. I was sorry, afterwards; partly because it had upset all my plans, partly because I was not sure that I had done the best thing by him.
"I had intended that he should have stopped for another year, at school; by that time he would be between sixteen and seventeen, and I thought of taking him into the office for six months or so, to begin with, for him to learn a little of the routine. Then I had intended to send him out to Oporto, for two years, and then to Cadiz for two years; so that he would have learnt Portuguese and Spanish well, got up all there was to learn about the different growths, and established friendly relations with my agents.
"Now, as it happens, all these plans have been upset. My agent at Oporto died, a month ago. His son succeeds him. He is a young man, and not yet married. In the first place, I don't suppose he would care about being bothered with Bob; and in the second place, boys of Bob's age are not likely to submit very quietly to the authority of a foreigner. Then, too, your brother is full of mischief and fun; and I don't suppose foreigners would understand him, in the least, and he would get into all manner of scrapes.
"My correspondent at Cadiz is an elderly man, without a family, and the same objection would arise in his case; and moreover, from what I hear from him and from other Spanish sources, there is a strong feeling against England in Spain and, now that we are at war with France, and have troubles in America, I think it likely enough they will join in against us. Of course my correspondent writes cautiously, but in his last letter he strongly advises me to buy largely, at once, as there is no saying about the future; and several of my friends in the trade have received similar advice.
"I have put the boy into the cellar for, at the moment, I could see nothing else to do with him. But really, the routine he is learning is of little importance, and there is no occasion for him to learn to do these things himself. He would pick up all he wants to know there, when he came back, in a very short time."
"Then what are you thinking of doing, uncle?" Carrie asked, after a pause, as she saw that Mr. Bale expected her to say something.
"It seems to me that a way has opened out of the difficulty. I don't want him to go back to school again. He knows quite as much Latin as is required, in an importer of wines. I want him to learn Spanish and Portuguese, and to become a gentleman, and a man of the world. I have stuck to Philpot Lane, all my life; but there is no reason why he should do so, after me. Things are changing in the city, and many of our merchants no longer live there, but have houses in the country, and drive or ride to them. Some people shake their heads over what they call newfangled notions. I think it is good for a man to get right away from his business, when he has done work.
"But this is not the point. Bob is too young to begin to learn the business abroad. Two years too young, at least. But there is no reason why he should not begin to learn Spanish. Now, I thought if I could find someone I could intrust him to, where his home would be bright and pleasant, he might go there for a couple of years. Naturally I should be prepared to pay a fair sum--say 200 pounds a year--for him, for of course no one is going to be bothered with a boy, without being paid for it."
Carrie listened for something further to come. Then her husband broke in:
"I see what you are driving at, Mr. Bale, and Carrie and myself would be delighted to have him.
"Don't you see, Carrie? Your uncle means that Bob shall stop with us, and learn the language there."
"That would be delightful!" Carrie exclaimed, enthusiastically. "Do you really mean that, uncle?"
"That is really what I do mean, niece. It seems to me that that is the very best thing we could do with the young scamp."
"It would be capital!" Carrie went on. "It is what I should like above everything."
"A nicer arrangement couldn't be, Mr. Bale. It will suit us all. Bob will learn the language, he will be a companion to Carrie when I am on duty, and we will make a man of him. But he won't be able to go out with us, I am afraid. Officers' wives and families get their passages in the transports, but I am afraid it would be no use to ask for one for Bob. Besides, we sail in four days."
"No, I will arrange about his passage, and so on.
"Well, I am glad that my proposal suits you both. The matter has been worrying me for the last three months, and it is a comfort that it is off my mind.
"I will go back to my hotel now. I will send Bob round in the morning, and you can tell him about it."
[Chapter 4]: Preparations For A Voyage.
Bob went round to the barracks at half past nine.
"Uncle says you have a piece of news to tell me, Carrie."
"My dear Bob," Captain O'Halloran said, "your uncle is a broth of a boy. He would do credit to Galway; and if anyone says anything to the contrary, I will have him out tomorrow morning."
"What has he been doing?" Bob asked.
"I told you, Carrie, yesterday, he wasn't a bit like what he seemed."
"Well, Bob, you are not going to stay at his place of business any longer."
"No! Where is he going to send me--to school again? I am not sure I should like that, Carrie. I didn't want to leave, but I don't think I should like to go back to Caesar, and Euclid, and all those wretched old books again."
"Well, you are not going, Bob."
"Hurry up, Carrie!" her husband said. "Don't you see that you are keeping the boy on thorns? Tell him the news, without beating about the bush."
"Well, it is just this, Bob. You are to come out for two years to live with us, at Gibraltar, and learn Spanish."
Bob threw his cap up to the ceiling, with a shout of delight; executed a wild dance, rushed at his sister and kissed her violently, and shook hands with her husband.
"That is glorious!" he said, when he had sufficiently recovered himself for speech. "I said uncle was a brick, didn't I? But I never dreamt of such a thing as this."
"He is going to pay, very handsomely, while you are with us, Bob, so it will be really a great help to us. Besides, we will like to have you with us. But you will have to work hard at Spanish, you know."
"Oh, I will work hard," Bob said, confidently.
"And be very steady," Captain O'Halloran said, gravely.
"Of course," Bob replied. "But who are you going to hire to teach me that?"
"You are an impudent boy, Bob," his sister said, while Captain O'Halloran burst out laughing.
"Sure, he has us both there, Carrie. I wonder your uncle did not make a proviso that we were to get one of the padres to look after him."
"As if I would let a Spanish priest look after me!" Bob said.
"I didn't mean a Spanish priest, Bob. I meant one of the army chaplains. We always call them padres.
"That would be worth thinking about, Carrie."
"Oh, I say," Bob exclaimed in alarm, "that would spoil it, altogether!"
"Well, we will see how you go on, Bob. We may not find it necessary, you know; but you will find you have to mind your P's and Q's, at Gib. It is a garrison place, you know, and they won't stand nonsense there. If you played any tricks, they would turn you outside the lines, or send you up to one of the caverns to live with the apes."
"Are there apes?" Bob asked, eagerly. "They would be awful fun, I should think. I have seen them at Exeter 'Change."
"There are apes, Bob; but if you think you are going to get near enough to put salt on their tails, you are mistaken."
"But am I going out with you?" Bob asked. "Why, tomorrow is Christmas Day, and you sail two days after, don't you? And I shouldn't have time even to go up to town, and down to Putney, to say goodbye to the fellows. I should like to do that, and tell them that I am going abroad."
"You are not going with us, Bob, and you will have time for all that. We could not take you in the transport, and uncle will arrange for a passage for you, in some ship going out. Of course, he knows all about vessels trading with Spain."
"Well, we sha'n't have to say goodbye, now," Bob said. "I haven't said much about it, but I have been thinking a lot about how horrid it would be, after being so jolly here, to have to say goodbye; knowing that I shouldn't see you again, for years and years. Now that is all over."
A few minutes later, Mr. Bale came in. He had assumed his most businesslike expression, but Bob rushed up to him.
"Oh, uncle, I am so obliged to you! It is awfully kind."
"I thought the arrangement would be a suitable one," Mr. Bale began.
"No, no, uncle," Bob broke in. "You would say that, if you were in Philpot Lane. Now you know you can say that you thought it would be the very jolliest thing that was ever heard of."
"I am afraid, niece, that the sentiment of respect for his elders is not strongly developed in Bob."
"I am afraid not, uncle; but you see, if elders set an example of being double-faced to their nephews, they must expect to forfeit their respect."
"And it is a lot better being liked than being respected, isn't it, uncle?"
"Perhaps it is, Bob, but the two things may go together."
"So they do, uncle. Only I keep my respect for Philpot Lane, and it is all liking, here."
They spent two more delightful days at Portsmouth; visited some of the ships of war, and the transport in which the 58th was to sail, and went over the dockyard. The next morning, Mr. Bale and Bob returned by the early coach to London, as the boxes and trunks and the portable furniture had to be sent off, early, on board.
Mr. Medlin was less surprised, at hearing that Bob was going to leave, than the latter had expected.
"You know, Bob, I was away one day last week. Well, I didn't tell you at the time where I was, because I was ordered not to; but your uncle said to me, the evening before:
"'I am going to drive down by coach to Windsor, Mr. Medlin, and shall be glad if you will accompany me.'
"I guessed he wanted to talk about things outside the business, and so it was. We had a capital dinner down there, and then we had a long talk about you. I told him frankly that, though I was very glad to have you with me, I really did not see that it was of any use your being kept at that work. He said that he thought so, too, and had an idea on which he wanted my opinion. He was thinking of accepting your sister's invitation to go down and spend Christmas with her; and intended to ask her if they would take charge of you, for a couple of years, in order that you might learn Spanish. Of course, I said that it was the very best thing in the world for you; and would not be any loss of time because, if you could speak Spanish well, you would learn the business much more quickly when you went to Cadiz; and need not be so long abroad, then."
"I shall be awfully sorry to go away from you, Mr. Medlin, and from Mrs. Medlin and the others. It has been so jolly with you, and you have all been so kind."
"Yes, it has been very comfortable all round, Bob, and we shall all be sorry that you are going; but I did not expect we should have you long with us. I felt sure your uncle would see he had made a mistake, in taking you into the place so young; and when he finds out he has made a mistake, he says so. Some people won't; but I have known him own up he has been wrong, after blowing up one of the boys in the cellar for something he hadn't done. Now, there is not one employer in a hundred who would do that.
"Yes, I felt sure that he would change his mind about you, and either send you back to school again or make some other arrangement; so I wasn't a bit surprised when he spoke to me, last week. Still, we shall all be sorry, Bob."
Another fortnight, passed without Bob hearing more; except that he was taken by Mr. Medlin to various shops, and a large outfit was ordered.
"You will bear in mind two things, Mr. Medlin," his employer had said. "In the first place, that my nephew will grow, in the next two years. Therefore order some of his things to fit him, now, and some to be made larger and in more manly fashion. Give instructions that, when these are finished, they are to be put in tin cases and soldered down, so as to be kept distinct from the others.
"In the second place, you will bear in mind that clothes which would be perfectly right and suitable for him, here, will not be at all suitable for him, there. He will be living with an officer, and associating entirely with military men; and there must therefore be a certain cut and fashion about his things. Of course, I don't want him to look like a young fop; but you understand what I want. There will be no boys out there, it is therefore better that he should look a little older than he is. Besides, I think that boys--and men, too--to some extent live up to their clothes.
"I do not think that I have anything else to say, Mr. Medlin; except that, as he will not be able to replace any clothes he may destroy out there, and as he is sure to be climbing about and destroying them, in one way or another, it is necessary that an ample supply should be laid in."
Mr. Medlin had scrupulously carried out all these instructions, and Bob was almost alarmed at the extent of the wardrobe ordered.
"I know what I am doing, Mr. Robert,"--for they were in the city when Bob made his protest--"I am quite sure that my employer will make no objection to my ordering largely; but he would certainly be much displeased, if I did not order what he conceived to be sufficient."
At the end of the fortnight, Mr. Bale informed Bob that he had arranged for his passage to Gibraltar in the brig Antelope.
"She is bound to Valencia for fruit. She is a fast sailer, and is well armed. There will be no other passengers on board but, as I am acquainted with the captain--who has several times brought over cargoes for me, from Cadiz and Oporto--he has agreed to take you. I would rather you had gone in a ship sailing with a convoy but, as there was a very strong one went, at the time the transports sailed, there may not be another for some time. These small vessels do not wait for convoys, but trust to their speed.
"You can now discontinue your work here, as you will probably wish to go down to Putney, to say goodbye to your friends there. The brig will sail next Monday; but you will go down on Saturday, by coach, to Southampton, where she now is. I shall request Mr. Medlin to see you on board. He tells me that your outfit is completed; and your trunks, with the exception of what will be required upon the voyage, will be sent off by the carrier waggon, on Wednesday.
"On Thursday afternoon you will leave Mr. Medlin's, and stay here till you start."
The week passed quickly. Bob enjoyed his day at Putney where, after saying goodbye to his old schoolfellows, he called upon Admiral Langton, who was very glad to hear of the change in his prospects.
"It will do you good," he said, "to go out into the world, and see a little of life. It was a dull thing, for a lad of your age and spirits, to be cooped up in a counting house in the city; but now that you are going to Gibraltar, and afterwards to Cadiz and Oporto, and will not return to settle down to business until you are one-and-twenty or so, I think that the prospect before you is a very pleasant one; and I am glad that your uncle has proved altogether different to your anticipations of him.
"Well, you are sure to see my son at Gibraltar, sometimes. I shall write to him, and tell him that you are there; and as your friend Sankey is on board the Brilliant, it will be pleasant for both of you.
"Only don't lead him into scrapes, Bob. Midshipmen are up to mischief enough, on their own account."
"Everyone always seems to think I am getting into scrapes, admiral. I don't think I get into more than other fellows."
"I rather think you do, Bob. Mr. Tulloch certainly intimated, to me, that you had a remarkable talent that way, if in no other. Besides, your face tells its own story. Pickle is marked upon it, as plainly as if it were printed.
"Now you must have supper with us, at seven o'clock, and catch the eight o'clock stage. You can stay until then, I hope?"
"Yes, sir. I told Mr. Medlin that I might not come back until the last stage."
At parting, the admiral placed a case in Bob's hands.
"There, my lad, are a brace of pistols. You won't have any use for them for some years to come, I hope; but if you stay out in Spain and Portugal, they may prove useful. Those fellows are very handy with their knives; and it is always well to be armed if you go about, at night, among them. I should advise you to practise shooting, whenever you get an opportunity. A pistol is an excellent weapon, if you really know how to use it; but is of no use at all, if you don't.
"Another thing is, you may get involved in affairs of honour. I consider duelling to be a foolish practice, but it is no use one person standing up against a crowd. It is the fashion, in our days, to fight duels and, therefore, it is almost a necessity for a gentleman to be able to shoot straight; besides, although you might be able to avoid fighting a duel with any of your countrymen, there is no possibility of getting out of it, if you become involved in a quarrel with a foreigner. In that case, an Englishman who showed the white feather would be a disgrace to his country.
"Another advantage of being a good shot--I mean a really good shot--is that, if you get forced into an affair, and are desirous of giving a lesson, but no more, to an opponent, you have it in your power to wing him; whereas, if you are only a tolerably good shot, you can't pick your spot, and may--to your lasting regret--kill him.
"But all this is in the future, Bob. I have fought several duels, myself, with those very pistols, and I am happy to say I have never killed my man; and shall be glad to believe, Bob, that they will always be used in the same spirit."
Bob's last two evenings before sailing were more pleasant than he had expected. Mr. Bale seemed to forget that he was still in Philpot Lane, and chatted with him freely and confidentially.
"I hope that I am doing the best for you, Bob. I know this is an experiment, and I can only trust that it will turn out well. I believe you have plenty of sound sense, somewhere in your head; and that this association with a number of young military men will not have any bad effect upon you; but that, after four or five years abroad, you will not be less, but rather more inclined to settle down to business. I regard you as my son, and have indeed no relations whom I care for in any way, except you and your sister. I trust that, when you come back, you will apply yourself to business; without becoming, as I have done, a slave to it.
"I might, if I chose, make you altogether independent of it; but I am sure that would not be for your good. There is nothing more unfortunate for a young man, belonging to the middle classes, than to have no fixed occupation. The heir to large estates is in a different position. He has all sorts of responsibilities. He has the pursuits of a country gentleman, and the duties of a large landowner. But the young man of our class, who does not take to business, is almost certain to go in for reckless dissipation, or gambling. I have seen numbers of young men, sons of old friends of my own, who have been absolutely ruined by being left the fortunes their fathers had made, simply because they had nothing with which to occupy their minds.
"It is for this reason, Bob, that I chiefly wish you to succeed me in my business. It is a very good one. I doubt whether any other merchant imports such large quantities of wines as I do. During the next few years I shall endeavour to give up, as far as I can, what I may call private business, and deal entirely with the trade. I have been doing so for some time, but it is very difficult to give up customers who have dealt with me, and my father before me. However, I shall curtail the business in that direction, as much as I can; and you will then find it much more easily managed. Small orders require just as much trouble in their execution as large ones; and a wholesale business is, in all respects, more satisfactory than one in which private customers are supplied, as well as the trade.
"I am entering into arrangements, now, with several travellers, for the purpose of extending my dealings with the trade in the provinces; so that when it comes into your hands you will find it more compact, and at the same time more extensive, than it is now.
"I am glad that I have had you here, for the past four months. I have had my eye upon you, more closely than you suppose; and I am pleased to see that you have worked well and willingly--far more so than I expected from you. This has much encouraged me in the hope that you will, in time, settle down to business here; and not be contented to lead a purposeless and idle life. The happiest man, in my opinion, is he who has something to do--and yet, not too much; who can, by being free from anxieties regarding it, view his business as an occupation, and a pleasure; and who is its master, and not its slave.
"I am thinking of giving Mr. Medlin a small interest in the business. I mean to make a real effort to break a little loose from it, and I have seen enough of him to know that he will make a very valuable junior. He is a little eccentric, perhaps--a sort of exaggeration of myself--but I shall signify to him that, when he comes into the firm, I consider that it will be to its advantage that he should import a little of what we may call his 'extra-official' manner into it.
"In our business, as I am well aware--although I do not possess it, myself--a certain cheerfulness of disposition, and a generally pleasing manner, are of advantage. Buyers are apt to give larger orders than they otherwise would do, under the influence of pleasant and genial relations; and Mr. Medlin can, if he chooses, make up for my deficiencies in that way.
"But I am taking the step rather in your interest than in my own. It will relieve you of a considerable portion of the burden of the business, and will enable you to relax somewhat, when you are disposed, if you have a partner in whom you can place thorough confidence.
"I do not wish you to mention this matter to him. I would rather open it to him, myself. We will go on another fishing expedition together, and I think we can approach it, then, on a more pleasant footing than we could here. He has modelled himself so thoroughly upon me that the matter could only be approached in so intensely a businesslike way, here, that I feel sure we should not arrive at anything like such a satisfactory arrangement as we might do, elsewhere."
In the course of the week, Captain Lockett of the Antelope had called at the office, and Bob had been introduced to him by Mr. Bale. He was a hearty and energetic looking man, of some five-and-thirty years of age.
"I shall want you to go to Cadiz for me, next trip, Captain Lockett," Mr. Bale said. "I am having an unusually large cargo prepared for me--enough, I fancy, to fill up your brig."
"All the better, sir," the sailor said. "There is nothing like having only one shipper--it saves time and trouble; but I should advise you to insure it for its full value, for the channel swarms with French privateers, at present; and the fellows are building them bigger, and mounting heavier guns than they used to do.
"I am mounting a long eighteen as a swivel gun, this voyage, in addition to those I carried before. But even with that, there are some of these French craft might prove very awkward customers, if they fell in with us. You see, their craft are crowded with men, and generally carry at least twice as many hands as ours. It is just the same with their fishing boats. It takes about three Frenchmen to do the work of an Englishman."
"Well, don't get caught, this time, Captain Lockett. I don't want my nephew to learn to speak French, instead of Spanish, for there is very little trade to be done in that quarter, at present; and what there is is all carried on by what I may call 'irregular' channels."
"I fancy there is a great deal of French wine comes into this country still, sir, in spite of the two nations being at war. It suits both governments to wink at the trade. We want French wine, and they want English money."
"That's so, Captain Lockett; but at any rate, we can't send English buyers out there, and must take what they choose to send."
On Saturday morning Bob said goodbye to his uncle, with an amount of feeling and regret he would have considered impossible, four months previously. Mr. Medlin accompanied him to Southampton, and the journey was a very lively one.
"Goodbye, Bob," the clerk said, as they shook hands on the deck of the Antelope. "You will be a man, when I see you again--that is, if you don't come home, for a bit, before going to the people at Cadiz and Oporto. You will be coming into the firm, then; and will be Mr. Robert, always."
"Not if we go out fishing expeditions together," Bob said, and laughed.
"Ah! Well, perhaps that will be an exception.
"Well, goodbye; a pleasant voyage to you, and don't get into more scrapes than you can help."
"Oh, I am growing out of that, Mr. Medlin!"
"Not you, Bob. They may be different sorts of scrapes, in the future; but scrapes there will be, or I am a Dutchman."
"Well, youngster, are you a good sailor?" the captain asked; as the Antelope, with all sail set, ran down Southampton water.
"I hope I am, captain, but I don't know, yet. I have gone out sailing in boats at Plymouth several times, in rough weather, and have never felt a bit ill; but I don't know how it will be, in a ship like this."
"If you can sail in rough water in a boat, without feeling ill, you ought to be all right here, lad. She is an easy craft, as well as a fast one; and makes good weather of it, in anything short of a gale.
"There is eight bells striking--that means eight o'clock, and breakfast. You had better lay in as good a store as you can. We shall be outside the Needles, if the wind holds, by dinnertime; and you may not feel so ready for it, then."
The second mate breakfasted in the cabin with the captain and Bob, the first mate remaining on deck. The second mate was a young man of three or four and twenty, a cousin of the captain. He was a frank, pleasant-faced young sailor, and Bob felt that he should like him.
"How many days do you expect to be in getting to Gibraltar, captain?"
"About ten, if we have luck; twenty if we haven't. There is never any saying."
"How many men do you carry?"
"Twenty-eight seamen, the cook, the steward, two mates, and myself; and there are three boys. Thirty-six all told."
"I see you have eight guns, besides the pivot gun."
"Yes. We have plenty of hands for working them, if we only have to fight one side at once; but we shouldn't be very strong handed, if we had to work both broadsides. There are four sixteen pounders, four twelves, and the pivot; so that gives three men to a gun, besides officers and idlers. Three men is enough for the twelves, but it makes rather slow work with the sixteens. However, we may hope that we sha'n't have to work both broadsides at once.
"We carry a letter of marque so that, in case of our having the luck to fall in with a French trader, we can bring her in. But that is not our business. We are peaceful traders, and don't want to show our teeth, unless we are interfered with."
To Bob's great satisfaction, he found that he was able to eat his dinner with unimpaired appetite; although the Antelope was clear of the island, and was bowing deeply to a lively sea. The first mate--a powerful looking man of forty, who had lost one eye, and whose face was deeply seamed by an explosion of powder in an engagement with a French privateer--came down to the meal, while the second mate took the duty on deck. Bob found some difficulty in keeping his dish before him, for the Antelope was lying well over, with a northerly wind abeam.
"She is travelling well, Probert," the captain said. "We have got her in capital trim, this time. Last time we were too light, and could not stand up to our sails.
"If this wind holds, we shall make a fast run of it. We will keep her well inshore, until we get down to the Scillys; and then stretch across the bay. The nearer we keep to the coast, the less fear there is of our running against one of those French privateers."
The wind held steady, and Bob enjoyed the voyage immensely, as the brig sailed along the coast. After passing Portland Bill they lost sight of land until, after eight hours' run, a bold headland appeared on the weather beam.
"That is the Start," the captain said. "When I get abeam of it we shall take our bearings, and then shape our course across the bay. If this wind does but hold, we shall make quick work of it."
Presently the tiller was put up and, as the brig's head paid off, the yards were braced square; and she ran rapidly along towards the southwest, with the wind nearly dead aft. The next morning when Bob went on deck he found that the wind had dropped, and the brig was scarcely moving through the water.
"This is a change, Mr. Probert," he said to the first mate, who was in charge of the deck.
"Yes, and not a pleasant one," the officer replied. "I don't like the look of the sky, either. I have just sent down to the captain, to ask him to step on deck."
Bob looked round. The sky was no longer bright and clear. There was a dull, heavy look overhead; and a smoky haze seemed to hang over the horizon, all round. Bob thought it looked dull, but wondered why the mate should send for the captain.
The latter came up on deck, in a minute or two.
"I don't much like the look of the sky, sir," the mate said. "The wind has died suddenly out, this last half hour; and the swell has got more kick in it than it had. I fancy the wind is going round to the southwest; and that, when it does come, it will come hard."
"I think you are right, Mr. Probert. I glanced at the glass, as I came up, and it has fallen half an inch since I was up on deck in the middle watch. I think you had better begin to take in sail, at once. Call the watch up from below. It is not coming yet; but we may as well strip her, at once."
The mate gave the order to the boatswain, whose shrill whistle sounded out, followed by the shout of "All hands to take in sail!"
The watch below tumbled up.
"Take the royals and topgallant sails off her, Mr. Probert. Double reef the topsails, and get in the courses."
Bob watched the men as they worked aloft, and marvelled at the seeming carelessness with which they hung on, where the slip of a foot or hand would mean sudden death; and wondered whether he could ever attain such steadiness of head. Three quarters of an hour's hard work and the mast was stripped, save for the reduced topsails.
"Get in two of the jibs, and brail up the spanker."
This was short work. When it was done the second mate, who had been working forward, looked to the captain for further orders. The latter had again gone below, but was now standing on the poop, talking earnestly with the first mate.
"Yes, I think you are right," Bob heard the captain say. "The glass is still falling and, very likely, it will be some time before we want these light spars again. There is nothing like being snug."
"Aloft again, lads!" the mate sung out, "and send down the yards and topgallant masts."
"Now she is ready for anything," the captain said, when the men again descended to the deck.
Bob, who had been so intently watching the men that he had not looked round at the sky, since they first went aloft, now had time to do so; and was startled with the change that had come over the sea, and sky. There was not a breath of wind. There was a dull, oily look on the water, as it heaved in long, regular waves, unbroken by the slightest ripple. Black clouds had banked up from the southwest, and extended in a heavy arch across the sky, but little ahead of the brig. From its edge ragged, fragments seemed to break off suddenly, and fly out ahead.
"It is going to blow, and no mistake," the captain said. "It is lucky that we have had plenty of time to get her into fighting trim.
"You had better get hold of something, lad, and clutch it tight. It will begin with a heavy squall and, like enough, lay her pretty well over on her beam ends, when it strikes her."
Higher and higher the threatening arch rose, till its edge stood over the mainmast. Then the captain cried:
"Here it comes, lads. Hold on, every one!"
Looking ahead, Bob saw a white line. It approached with wonderful rapidity, and with a confused, rushing sound. Then in a moment he felt himself clinging, as if for life, to the stanchion of which he had taken hold. The wind almost wrenched him from his feet while, at the same moment, a perfect deluge of water came down upon him.
He felt the brig going further and further over, till the deck beneath his feet seemed almost perpendicular. The captain and first mate had both grasped the spokes of the wheel, and were aiding the helmsman in jamming it down. Bob had no longer a hold for his feet, and was hanging by his arms. Looking down, the sea seemed almost beneath him but, with a desperate effort, he got hold of the rail with one hand, and then hauled himself up under it, clinging tight to the main shrouds. Then he saw the second mate loose the jib halliards, while one of the sailors threw off the fore-staysail sheet, and the spanker slowly brought the brig's head up into the wind.
As it did so she righted, gradually, and Bob regained his place on deck; which was still, however, lying over at a very considerable angle. The captain raised his hand, and pointed to the main topsail; and the second mate at once made his way aft with some of the men and, laying out on the weather rigging, made his way aloft. The danger seemed, to Bob, so frightful that he dared not look up. He could hear, through the pauses of the blast, the mate shout to the men above him and, in a few minutes, they again descended to the deck.
Even Bob could feel how much the brig was relieved, when the pressure of the topsail was taken off. The lower planks of the deck rose from the water and, although this still rushed in and out through the scupper holes, and rose at times to the level of the bulwark rail, he felt that the worst was over.
One of the men was called to assist at the helm, and the captain and mate came forward to the poop rail.
"That was touch and go, youngster!" the former shouted to Bob.
"It was," Bob said. "More go than touch, I should say; for I thought she had gone, altogether."
"You had better go below, and change your things. Tell the steward to bring me my oilskins, out of my cabin. You had better keep below, until this rain has stopped."
Bob thought the advice was good; so he went down and got into dry clothes, and then lay down on the cabin sofa, to leeward--he could not have kept his place, on the other side. The rain was still falling so heavily, on deck, that it sounded like a waggon passing overhead; and mingled with this noise was the howl of the wind, and the swashing of the water against the ship's side. Gradually the motion of the vessel became more violent, and she quivered from bow to stern, as the waves struck her.
Although it was early in the afternoon, it became almost as dark as night in the cabin. The steward had brought him a glass of hot grog, as soon as he had changed his clothes and, in spite of the din, he presently fell off to sleep. When he woke the rain had ceased; but the uproar caused by the howling of the wind, the creaking of the spars, and the dashing of the waves was as loud as before.
He soon made his way up on deck, and found that a tremendous sea was running. The fore-topsail had been got off the ship, the weather sheets of the jib and fore-staysail hauled across, and the vessel was making comparatively little way through the water. She was, in fact--although Bob did not know it--lying to, under these sails and the spanker.
It all looked so terrible, to him, that he kept his place but a few minutes; and was then glad to return to the sofa, below. In a short time, the captain came down.
"How are you getting on, lad? All in the dark, eh?
"Steward, light the lamp, and bring me a tumbler of hot grog. Keep the water boiling; the other officers will be down, directly.
"Well, what do you think of it, young gentleman?"
"I don't like it, at all," Bob said. "I thought I should like to see a storm, but I never want to see one, again."
"I am not surprised at that," the captain said, with a laugh. "It is all very well to read about storms, but it is a very different thing to be caught in one."
"Is there any danger, sir?"
"There is always more or less danger, in a storm, lad; but I hope, and think, the worst is over. We are in for a heavy gale but, now that the brig has got through the first burst, there is not much fear of her weathering it. She is a capital sea boat, well found and in good trim; and we were fortunate enough in having sufficient warning to get her snug, before the first burst came.
"That is always the most dangerous point. When a ship has way on her, she can stand almost any gale; but when she is caught by a heavy squall, when she is lying becalmed, you have to look out. However, she got through that without losing anything; and she is lying to, now, under the smallest possible canvas and, if all goes well, there is no reason, whatever, for anxiety."
"What do you mean by 'if all goes well,' captain?"
"I mean as long as one of her masts isn't carried away, or anything of that sort. I daresay you think it rough, now, but it is nothing to what it will be by tomorrow morning. I should advise you to turn in, at once. You could see nothing, if you went up; and would run the risk of being washed overboard, or of getting a limb broken."
Bob's recollections of his position, as the ship heeled over when the storm struck her, were still far too vivid for him to have any desire for a repetition of it; and he accordingly took the captain's advice, and turned in at once.
When he got up in the morning and, with some difficulty, made his way on deck he found that, as the captain predicted, the sea was far heavier than the night before. Great ridges of water bore down upon the ship, each seeming as if it would overwhelm her; and for the first few minutes Bob expected to see the brig go, head foremost, and sink under his feet. It was not till he reflected that she had lived through it for hours that he began to view the scene with composure. Although the waves were much higher than when he had left the deck on the previous afternoon, the scene was really less terrifying.
The sky was covered with masses of gray cloud, ragged and torn, hurrying along with great velocity, apparently but a short distance above the masthead. When the vessel rose on a wave, it seemed to him that the clouds, in places, almost touched the water, and mingled with the masses of spray caught up by the waves. The scud, borne along by the wind, struck his face with a force that caused it to smart and, for a time, he was unable to face the gale even for a minute.
The decks were streaming with water. The boats had disappeared from the davits, and a clean sweep seemed to have been made of everything movable. Forward was a big gap in the bulwark and, as the brig met the great waves, masses of green water poured in through this, and swept along the deck waist deep. The brig was under the same sail as before, except that she now showed a closely-reefed fore-topsail.
When he became a little accustomed to the sea, and to the motion, he watched his time; and then made a rush across from the companion to the weather bulwark, and got a firm hold of one of the shrouds. The captain and the second mate were on the poop, near the wheel. The former made his way to him.
"Good morning, Master Repton! Managed to get some sleep?"
"Yes, I have slept all night, captain. I say, isn't this tremendous? I did not think anything could be like this. It is splendid, you know, but it takes one's breath away.
"I don't think it is blowing quite so hard, is it?"
"Every bit as hard, but it is more regular, and you are accustomed to it."
"But I see you have got up some more sail."
"Yes, that's to steady her. You see, when she gets into the trough between these great waves, the lower sails are almost becalmed; and we are obliged to show something above them, to keep a little way on her. We are still lying to, you see, and meet the waves head on. If her head was to fall off a few points, and one of these waves took her on the beam, she would go down like a stone.
"Yes, the brig is doing very handsomely. She has a fine run, more like a schooner than a brig; and she meets the waves easily, and rises to them as lightly as a feather. She is a beauty!
"If you are going to stay here, lad, you had better lash yourself; for it is not safe, standing as you are."
[Chapter 5]: A French Privateer.
As he became more accustomed to the scene around him, and found that the waves were more terrible in appearance than reality, Bob began to enjoy it, and to take in its grandeur and wildness. The bareness of the deck had struck him, at once; and he now saw that four of the cannon were gone--the two forward guns, on each side--and he rightly supposed that these must have been run out, and tumbled overboard, to lighten the ship forward, and enable her to rise more easily to the waves.
An hour later, the second mate came along.
"You had better come down and get some breakfast," he said. "I am going down first."
Bob threw off the rope, and followed the mate down into the cabin. Mr. Probert had just turned out. He had been lying down for two or three hours, having gone down as daylight broke.
"The captain says you had better take something before you go on deck, Mr. Probert," the second mate said. "He will come down, afterwards, and turn in for an hour or two."
"No change, I suppose?"
"No. She goes over it like a duck. The seas are more regular, now, and she is making good weather of it."
Bob wondered, in his own mind, what she would do if she was making bad weather.
The meal was an irregular one. The steward brought in three large mugs, half filled with coffee; a basket of biscuits, and a ham. From this he cut off some slices, which he laid on biscuits; and each of them ate their breakfast, holding their mugs in one hand, and their biscuits and ham in the other.
As soon as they had finished, the two officers went on deck and, directly afterwards, the captain came down. Bob chatted with him until he had finished his breakfast, and then went up on deck again, for two or three hours. At the end of that time he felt so completely exhausted, from the force of the wind and the constant change of the angle at which he was standing, that he was glad to go below and lie down again.
There was no regular dinner, the officers coming below by turns, and taking a biscuit and a chunk of cold meat, standing. But at teatime the captain and second mate came down together; and Bob, who had again been up on deck for a bit, joined them in taking a large bowl of coffee.
"I think the wind is blowing harder than ever," he said to the captain.
"Yes, the glass has begun to rise a little, and that is generally a sign you are getting to the worst of it. I expect it is a three days' gale, and we shall have it at its worst, tonight. I hope by this time, tomorrow, we shall be beginning to shake out our reefs.
"You had better not go up, any more. It will be dark in half an hour, and your bunk is the best place for you."
Bob was not sorry to obey the order, for he felt that the scene would be a very terrible one, after dark. The night, however, seemed to him to be a miserably long one; for he was only able to doze off occasionally, the motion being so violent that he had to jam himself in his berth, to prevent himself from being thrown out. The blows with which the waves struck the ship were tremendous; and so deeply did she pitch that, more than once, he thought that she would never come up again; but go down, head foremost. Once he thought he heard a crash, and there were orders shouted, on the deck above him; but he resisted the desire to go up and see what it was, for he knew that he could do nothing; and that, in the darkness, he could see but little of what was going on.
With the first gleam of daylight, however, he got out of the bunk. He had not attempted to undress, having taken off his shoes, only, when he lay down. Having put these on again, he went up. There was but little change since the previous morning but, looking forward, he saw that the bowsprit was gone, and the fore-topmast had been carried away. The sea was as high as ever, but patches of blue sky showed overhead between the clouds, and the wind was blowing somewhat less violently.
"We have been in the wars, you see, youngster," the captain said, when Bob made his way aft; "but we may thank God it was no worse. We have had a pretty close squeak of it, but the worst is over, now. The wind is going down, and the gale will have blown itself out by this evening. It was touch-and-go several times during the night and, if she had had a few more tons of cargo in her, she would never have risen from some of those waves; but I think, now, we shall see Oporto safely--which was more than I expected, about midnight."
For some hours Bob, himself, had considerable doubts as to this, so deeply did the brig bury herself in the waves; but after twelve o'clock the wind fell rapidly and, although the waves showed no signs of decreasing in height, their surface was smoother, and they seemed to strike the vessel with less force and violence.
"Now, Mr. Probert," said the captain, "do you and Joe turn in, till first watch. I will take charge of the deck. After that, you can set regular watches again."
The main-topsail was already on her and, at six o'clock, the captain had two of its reefs shaken out; and the other reef was also loosed, when Mr. Probert came up and took charge of the first watch, at eight bells. That night Bob lay on the floor, for the motion was more violent than before--the vessel rolling, gunwale under--for the wind no longer pressed upon her sails, and kept her steady, and he would have found it impossible to maintain his position in his berth.
In the morning, he went up. The sun was rising in an unclouded sky. There was scarce a breath of wind. The waves came along in high, glassy rollers--smooth mounds of water which extended, right and left, in deep valleys and high ridges. The vessel was rolling tremendously, the lower yards sometimes touching the water. Bob had to wait some time before he could make a rush across to the bulwark and, when he did so, found it almost impossible to keep his feet. He could see that the men forward were no longer crouching for shelter under the break of the fo'castle, but were holding on by the shrouds or stays, smoking their pipes, and laughing and joking together. Until the motion abated somewhat, it was clearly impossible to commence the work of getting things in order.
"Did the bowsprit and mast both go, together?" Bob asked Joe Lockett, who was holding on to the bulwark, near him.
"Yes, the bowsprit went with the strain when she rose, having buried herself halfway up the waist; and the topmast snapped like a carrot, a moment later. That was the worst dive we made. There is no doubt that getting rid of the leverage of the bowsprit, right up in her eyes, eased her a good bit; and as the topmast was a pretty heavy spar, too, that also helped."
"How long will it be before the sea goes down?"
"If you mean goes down enough for us to get to work--a few hours. If you mean goes down altogether, it will be five or six days before this swell has quite flattened down, unless a wind springs up from some other quarter."
"I meant till the mast can be got up again."
"Well, this afternoon the captain may set the men at work; but I don't think they would do much good, and there would be a good chance of getting a limb broken. As long as this calm holds there is no hurry, one way or the other."
"You mean, because we couldn't be sailing, even if we had everything set?"
"Well, yes, that is something, but I didn't mean that. I am not thinking so much of our sailing, as of other people's. We are not very fit, as we are now, either for fighting or running, and I should be sorry to see a French privateer coming along; but as long as the calm continues, there is no fear of that; and I expect there have been few ships out, in this gale, who have not got repairs to do as well as we have."
After dinner, an effort was made to begin the work; but the captain soon ordered the men to desist.
"It is of no use, Mr. Probert. We shall only be getting some of the men killed. It wouldn't be possible to get half done before dark and, if the sea goes down a bit, tonight, they will get as much done in an hour's work, in the morning, as they would if they were to work from now to sunset.
"The carpenter might get some canvas, and nail it so as to hide those gaps in the bulwark. That will be something done. The boys can give it a coat of paint, in the morning. But as for the spar, we must leave it."
All hands were at work, next morning, with the first gleam of daylight. The rollers were still almost as high as the day before; but there was now a slight breath of wind, which sufficed to give the vessel steerage way. She was put head to the rollers, changing the motion from the tremendous rolling, when she was lying broadside to them, for a regular rise and fall that interfered but little with the work. A spare spar was fitted in the place of the bowsprit, the stump of the topmast was sent down, and the topgallant mast fitted in its place and, by midday, the light spars were all in their places again, and the brig was showing a fair spread of canvas; and a casual observer would, at a distance, have noticed but slight change in her appearance.
"That has been a good morning's work," the captain said, as they sat down to dinner. "We are a little short of head-sail, but that will make no great difference in our rate of sailing, especially if the wind is aft. We are ready to meet with another storm again, if it should come--which is not likely.
"We are ready for anything, in fact, except a heavily-armed privateer. The loss of four of our guns has crippled us. But there was no choice about the matter; it went against my heart to see them go overboard, but it was better to lose four guns than to lose the ship.
"I hope we shall meet with nothing till we get through the Straits. I may be able to pick up some guns, at Gibraltar. Prizes are often brought in there, and condemned, and there are sales of stores; so I hope to be able to get her into regular fighting trim, again, before I clear out from there.
"I should think you won't be sorry when we drop anchor off the Mole, youngster?"
"I am in no hurry, now," Bob said. "I would have given a good deal--if I had had it--two days ago, to have been on dry land but, now that we are all right again, I don't care how long we are, before we get there. It is very warm and pleasant, a wonderful change after what it was when we sailed.
"Whereabouts are we, captain?"
"We are a good bit farther to the east than I like," the captain replied. "We have been blown a long way into the bay. There is a great set of current, in here. We have drifted nearly fifty miles in, since noon yesterday. We are in 4 degrees 50 minutes west longitude, and 45 degrees latitude."
"I don't think that means anything to me."
"No, I suppose not," the captain laughed. "Well, it means we are nearly due west of Bordeaux, and about one hundred miles from the French coast, and a little more than eighty north of Santander, on the Spanish coast. As the wind is sou'-sou'west we can lay our course for Cape Ortegal and, once round there, we shall feel more comfortable."
"But don't you feel comfortable at present, captain?"
"Well, not altogether. We are a good deal too close in to the French coast; and we are just on the track of any privateer that may be making for Bordeaux, from the west or south, or going out in those directions. So, although I can't say I am absolutely uncomfortable, I shall be certainly glad when we are back again on the regular track of our own line of traffic for the Straits or Portugal. There are English cruisers on that line, and privateers on the lookout for the French, so that the sound of guns might bring something up to our assistance; but there is not much chance of meeting with a friendly craft, here--unless it has, like ourselves, been blown out of its course."
A lookout had already been placed aloft. Several sails were seen in the distance, in the course of the afternoon, but nothing that excited suspicion. The wind continued light and, although the brig had every sail set, she was not making more than five and a half knots an hour through the water. In the evening the wind dropped still more and, by nine o'clock, the brig had scarcely steerage way.
"It is enough to put a saint out of temper," the captain said, as he came down into the cabin, and mixed himself a glass of grog before turning in. "If the wind had held, we should have been pretty nearly off Finisterre, by morning. As it is, we haven't made more than forty knots since we took the observation, at noon."
Bob woke once in the night; and knew, by the rippling sound of water, and by the slight inclination of his berth, that the breeze had sprung up again. When he woke again the sun was shining brightly, and he got up and dressed leisurely; but as he went into the cabin he heard some orders given, in a sharp tone, by the captain on deck, and quickened his pace up the companion, to see what was going on.
"Good morning, Mr. Lockett!" he said to the second mate, who was standing close by, looking up at the sails.
"Good morning, Master Repton!" he replied, somewhat more shortly than usual.
"There is a nice breeze this morning," Bob went on. "We seem going on at a good rate."
"I wish she were going twice as fast," the mate said. "There is a gentleman over there who seems anxious to have a talk with us, and we don't want to make his acquaintance."
Bob looked round and saw, over the quarter, a large lugger some three miles away.
"What vessel is that?" he asked.
"That is a French privateer--at least, there is very little doubt about it. We must have passed each other in the dark for, when we first made him out, he was about four miles away, sailing northeast. He apparently sighted us, just as we made him out; and hauled his wind, at once. He has gained about a mile on us, in the last two hours. We have changed our course; and are sailing, as you see, northwest, so as to bring the wind on our quarter; and I don't think that fellow has come up much, since. Still, he does come up. We feel the loss of our sail, now."
It seemed to Bob, looking up, that there was already an immense amount of canvas on the brig. Stunsails had been set on her, and she was running very fast through the water.
"We seem to have more canvas set than that vessel behind us," he said.
"Yes, we have more, but those luggers sail like witches. They are splendid boats, but they want very big crews to work them. That is the reason why you scarcely ever see them, with us, except as fishing craft, or something of that sort. I daresay that lugger has a hundred men on board--eighty, anyhow--so it is no wonder we sometimes get the worst of it. They always carry three hands to our two and, very often, two to our one. Of course we are really a trader, though we do carry a letter of marque. If we were a regular privateer, we should carry twice as many hands as we do."
Walking to the poop rail, Bob saw that the men were bringing up shot, and putting them in the racks by the guns. The breech covers had been taken off. The first officer was overlooking the work.
"Well, lad," Captain Lockett said, coming up to him, "you see that unlucky calm has got us into a mess, after all and, unless the wind drops again, we are going to have to fight for it."
"Would the wind dropping help us, sir?"
"Yes, we have more canvas on her than the lugger carries and, if the breeze were lighter, should steal away from her. As it is, she doesn't gain much; but she does gain and, in another two or three hours, she will be sending a messenger to ask us to stop."
"And what will you do, captain?"
"We shall send another messenger back, to tell her to mind her own business. Then it will be a question of good shooting. If we can knock out one of her masts, we shall get off; if we can't, the chances are we shall see the inside of a French prison.
"If she once gets alongside, it is all up with us. She can carry us, by boarding; for she can throw three times our strength of men on to our deck."
There was but little talking on board the brig. When the men had finished their preparations, they stood waiting by the bulwarks; watching the vessel in chase of them, and occasionally speaking together in low tones.
"You may as well pipe the hands to breakfast, Mr. Probert. I have told the cook to give them an extra good meal. After that, I will say a few words to them.
"Now, Master Repton, we may as well have our meal. We mayn't get another good one, for some time; but I still hope that we shall be able to cripple that fellow. I have great faith in that long eighteen. The boatswain is an old man-o'-war's-man, and is a capital shot. I am a pretty good one, myself and, as the sea is smooth, and we have a good steady platform to fire from, I have good hope we shall cripple that fellow before he comes up to us."
There was more talking than usual, at breakfast. Captain Lockett and the second mate both laughed, and joked, over the approaching fight. Mr. Probert was always a man of few words, and he said but little, now.
"The sooner they come up, the better," he growled. "I hate this running away, especially when you can't run fastest."
"The men will all do their best, I suppose, Probert? You have been down among them."
The first mate nodded.
"They don't want to see the inside of a prison, captain, no more than I do. They will stick to the guns; but I fancy they know, well enough, it will be no use if it comes to boarding."
"No use at all, Probert. I quite agree with you, there. If she comes up alongside, we must haul down the flag. It is of no use throwing away the men's lives, by fighting against such odds as that. But we mustn't let her get up."
"That is it, sir. We have got to keep her off, if it can be done. We shall have to haul our wind a little, when we begin, so as to get that eighteen to bear on her."
"Yes, we must do that," the captain said. "Then we will get the other four guns over on the same side."
After breakfast was over, the captain went up and took his station at the poop rail. The men had finished their breakfast and, on seeing that the captain was about to address them, moved aft.
"My lads," he said, "that Frenchman behind will be within range, in the course of another hour. What we have got to do is to knock some of her spars out of her and, as she comes up slowly, we shall have plenty of time to do it. I daresay she carries a good many more guns than we do, but I do not suppose that they are heavier metal. If she got alongside of us, she would be more than our match; but I don't propose to let her get alongside and, as I don't imagine any of you wish to see the inside of a French prison, I know you will all do your best.
"Let there be no hurrying in your fire. Aim at her spars, and don't throw a shot away. The chances are all in our favour; for we can fight all our guns, while she can fight only her bow chasers--at any rate, until she bears up. She doesn't gain on us much now and, when she comes to get a few shot holes in her sails, it will make the difference. I shall give ten guineas to be divided among the men at the first gun that knocks away one of her spars; and five guineas, besides, to the man who lays the gun."
The men gave a cheer.
"Get the guns all over to the port side. I shall haul her wind, a little, as soon as we are within range."
By five bells, the lugger was within a mile and a half. The men were already clustered round the pivot gun.
"Put her helm down, a little," the captain ordered. "That is enough.
"Now, boatswain, you are well within range. Let us see what you can do. Fire when you have got her well on your sights."
A few seconds later there was a flash, and a roar. All eyes were directed on the lugger, which the captain was watching through his glass. There was a shout from the men. The ball had passed through the great foresail, a couple of feet from the mast.
"Very good," the captain said. "Give her a trifle more elevation, next time. If you can hit the yard, it will be just as good as hitting the mast.
"Ah! There she goes!"
Two puffs of white smoke broke out from the lugger's bow. One shot struck the water nearly abreast of the brig, at a distance of ten yards. The other fell short.
"Fourteens!" the captain said. "I thought she wouldn't have eighteens, so far forward."
Shot after shot was fired but, so far, no serious damage had been caused by them. The brig had been hulled once, and two shots had passed through her sails.
The captain went, himself, to the pivot gun; and laid it carefully. Bob stood watching the lugger intently, and gave a shout as he saw the foresail run rapidly down.
"It is only the slings cut," the second mate--who was standing by him--said. "They will have it up again, in a minute. If the shot had been the least bit lower, it would have smashed the yard."
The lugger came into the wind and, as she did so, eight guns flashed out from her side while, almost at the same moment, the four broadside guns of the Antelope were, for the first time, discharged. Bob felt horribly uncomfortable, for a moment, as the shot hummed overhead; cutting one of the stunsail booms in two, and making five fresh holes in the sails.
"Take the men from the small guns, Joe, and get that sail in," the captain said. "Its loss is of no consequence."
In half a minute, the lugger's foresail again rose; and she continued the chase, heading straight for the brig.
"He doesn't like this game of long bowls, Probert," the captain said. "He intends to come up to board, instead of trusting to his guns.
"Now, boatswain, you try again."
The brig was now sailing somewhat across the lugger's bows, so that her broadside guns--trained as far as possible aft--could all play upon her; and a steady fire was kept up, to which she only replied by her two bow chasers. One of the men had been knocked down, and wounded, by a splinter from the bulwark; but no serious damage had so far been inflicted, while the sails of the lugger were spotted with shot holes.
Bob wished, heartily, that he had something to do; and would have been glad to have followed the first mate's example--that officer having thrown off his coat, and taken the place of the wounded man in working a gun--but he felt that he would only be in the way, did he try to assist. Steadily the lugger came up, until she was little more than a quarter of a mile behind them.
"Now, lads," the captain shouted, "double shot the guns--this is your last chance. Lay your guns carefully, and all fire together, when I give the word.
"Now, are you all ready? Fire!"
The five guns flashed out together, and the ten shot sped on their way. The splinters flew from the lugger's foremast, in two places; but a cry of disappointment rose, as it was seen that it was practically uninjured.
"Look, look!" the captain shouted. "Hurrah, lads!" and a cloud of white canvas fell over, to leeward of the lugger.
Her two masts were nearly in line, and the shot that had narrowly missed the foremast, and passed through the foresail, had struck the mainmast and brought it, and its sail, overboard. The crew of the brig raised a general cheer. A minute before a French prison had stared them in the face, and now they were free. The helm was instantly put up, and the brig bore straight away from her pursuer.
"What do you say, Probert? Shall we turn the tables, now, and give her a pounding?"
"I should like to, sir, nothing better; but it would be dangerous work. Directly she gets free of that hamper, she will be under command, and will be able to bring her broadside to play on us; and if she had luck, and knocked away one of our spars, she would turn the tables upon us. Besides, even if we made her strike her colours, we could never take her into port. Strong handed as she is, we should not dare to send a prize crew on board."
"You are right, Probert--though it does seem a pity to let her go scot free, when we have got her almost at our mercy."
"Not quite, sir. Look there."
The lugger had managed to bring her head sufficiently up into the wind for her broadside guns to bear, and the shot came hurtling overhead. The yard of the main-topsail was cut in sunder, and the peak halliard of the spanker severed, and the peak came down with a run. They could hear a faint cheer come across the water from the lugger.
"Leave the guns, lads, and repair damages!" the captain shouted.
"Throw off the throat halliards of the spanker, get her down, and send a hand up to reef a fresh rope through the blocks, Mr. Probert.
"Joe, take eight men with you, and stow away the topsail. Send the broken yard down.
"Carpenter, see if you have got a light spar that will do, instead of it. If not, get two small ones, and lash them so as to make a splice of it."
In a minute the guns of the lugger spoke out again but, although a few ropes were cut away, and some more holes made in the sails, no serious damage was inflicted and, before they were again loaded, the spanker was rehoisted. The lugger continued to fire, but the brig was now leaving her fast. As soon as the sail was up, the pivot gun was again set to work; and the lugger was hulled several times but, seeing that her chance of disabling the brig was small, she was again brought before the wind.
In half an hour a new topsail yard was ready, and that sail was again hoisted. The Antelope had now got three miles away from the lugger. As the sail sheeted home, the second mate shouted, from aloft:
"There is a sail on the weather bow, sir! She is close hauled, and sailing across our head."
"I see her," the captain replied.
"We ought to have noticed her before, Mr. Probert. We have all been so busy that we haven't been keeping a lookout.
"What do you make her to be, Joe?" he said to the second mate.
"I should say she was a French frigate, sir."
The captain ascended the shrouds with his glass, remained there two or three minutes watching the ship, and then returned to the deck.
"She is a frigate, certainly, Mr. Probert, and by the cut of her sails I should say a Frenchman. We are in an awkward fix. She has got the weather gage of us. Do you think, if we put up helm and ran due north, we should come out ahead of her?"
The mate shook his head.
"Not if the wind freshens, sir, as I think it will. I should say we had best haul our wind, and make for one of the Spanish ports. We might get into Santander."
"Yes, that would be our best chance.
"All hands 'bout ship!"
The vessel's head was brought up into the wind, and payed off on the other tack, heading south--the frigate being, now, on her weather quarter. This course took the brig within a mile and a half of the lugger, which fired a few harmless shots at her. When she had passed beyond the range of her guns, she shaped her course southeast by east for Santander, the frigate being now dead astern. The men were then piped to dinner.
"Is she likely to catch us, sir?" Bob asked, as they sat down to table.
"I hope not, lad. I don't think she will, unless the wind freshens a good deal. If it did, she would come up hand over hand.
"I take it she is twelve miles off, now. It is four bells, and she has only got five hours' daylight, at most. However fast she is, she ought not to gain a knot and a half an hour, in this breeze and, if we are five or six miles ahead when it gets dark, we can change our course. There is no moon."
They were not long below.
"The lugger is under sail again, sir," the second mate, who was on duty, said as they gained the deck.
"They haven't been long getting up a jury mast," Captain Lockett said. "That is the best of a lug rig. Still, they have a smart crew on board."
He directed his glass towards the lugger, which was some five miles away.
"It is a good-sized spar," he said, "nearly as lofty as the foremast. She is carrying her mainsail with two reefs in it and, with the wind on her quarter, is travelling pretty nearly as fast as she did before. Still, she can't catch us, and she knows it.
"Do you see, Mr. Probert, she is bearing rather more to the north. She reckons, I fancy, that after it gets dark we may try to throw the frigate out; and may make up that way, in which case she would have a good chance of cutting us off. That is awkward, for the frigate will know that; and will guess that, instead of wearing round that way, we shall be more likely to make the other."
"That is so," the mate agreed. "Still, we shall have the choice of either hauling our wind and making south by west, or of running on, and she can't tell which we shall choose."
"That is right enough. It is just a toss up. If we run, and she runs, she will overtake us; if we haul up close into the wind, and she does the same, she will overtake us, again; but if we do one thing, and she does the other, we are safe.
"Then again, we may give her more westing, after it gets dark, and bear the same course the lugger is taking. She certainly won't gain on us, and I fancy we shall gain a bit on her. Then in the morning, if the frigate is out of sight, we can make for Santander, which will be pretty nearly due south of us, then; or, if the lugger is left well astern we can make a leg north, and then get on our old course again, for Cape Ortegal. The lugger would see it was of no use chasing us, any further."
"Yes, I think that is the best plan of the three, captain.
"I see the frigate is coming up. I can just make out the line of her hull. She must be a fast craft."
The hours passed on slowly. Fortunately the wind did not freshen, and the vessels maintained their respective positions towards each other. The frigate was coming up, but, when it began to get dusk, she was still some six miles astern. The lugger was five miles away, on the lee quarter, and three miles northeast of the frigate. She was still pursuing a line that would take her four miles to the north of the brig's present position. The coast of Spain could be seen stretching along to the southward. Another hour and it was perfectly dark and, even with the night glasses, the frigate could no longer be made out.
"Starboard your helm," the captain said, to the man at the wheel. "Lay her head due east."
"I fancy the wind is dying away, sir," Mr. Probert said.
"So long as it don't come a stark calm, I don't care," the captain replied. "That would be the worst thing that could happen, for we should have the frigate's boats after us; but a light breeze would suit us, admirably."
Two hours later, the wind had almost died out.
"We will take all the sails off her, Mr. Probert. If the frigate keeps on the course she was steering when we last saw her, she will go two miles to the south of us; and the lugger will go more than that to the north. If they hold on all night, they will be hull down before morning; and we shall be to windward of them and, with the wind light, the frigate would never catch us; and we know the lugger wouldn't, with her reduced sails."
In a few minutes all the sails were lowered, and the brig lay motionless. For the next two hours the closest watch was kept, but nothing was seen of the pursuing vessels.
"I fancy the frigate must have altered her course more to the south," the captain said, "thinking that, as the lugger was up north, we should be likely to haul our wind in that direction. We will wait another hour, and then get up sail again, and lay her head for Cape Ortegal."
When the morning broke, the brig was steering west. No sign of the lugger was visible but, from the tops, the upper sails of the frigate could be seen, close under the land, away to the southeast.
"Just as I thought," the captain said, rubbing his hands in high glee. "She hauled her wind, as soon as it was dark, and stood in for the coast, thinking we should do the same.
"We are well out of that scrape."
Two days later the brig dropped her anchor in the Tagus, where three English ships of war were lying. A part of the cargo had to be discharged, here; and the captain at once went ashore, to get a spar to replace the topmast carried away in the gale.
"We may fall in with another Frenchman, before we are through the Straits," he said, "and I am not going to put to sea again like a lame duck."
Bob went ashore with the captain, and was greatly amused at the scenes in the streets of Lisbon.
"You had better keep with me, as I shall be going on board, in an hour. Tomorrow you can come ashore and see the sights, and spend the day. I would let Joe come with you, but he will be too busy to be spared, so you will have to shift for yourself."
Before landing in the morning, the captain advised him not to go outside the town.
"You don't know the lingo, lad, and might get into trouble. You see, there are always sailors going ashore from our ships of war, and they get drunk and have sprees; and I don't fancy they are favourites with the lower class, here, although the shopkeepers, of course, are glad enough to have their money--but I don't think it would be safe for a lad like you, who can't speak a word of the language, to wander about outside the regular streets. There will be plenty for you to see, without going further."
As Bob was a good deal impressed with the narrow escape he had had from capture, he was by no means inclined to run any risk of getting into a scrape, and perhaps missing his passage out. He therefore strictly obeyed the captain's instructions; and when--just as he was going down to the landing stage, where the boat was to come ashore for him--he came upon a party of half drunken sailors, engaged in a vigorous fight with a number of Portuguese civil guards, he turned down a side street to avoid getting mixed up in the fray--repressing his strong impulse to join in by the side of his countrymen.
On his mentioning this to the captain, when he reached the brig, the latter said:
"It is lucky that you kept clear of the row. It is all nonsense, talking about countrymen. It wasn't an affair of nationality, at all. Nobody would think of interfering, if he saw a party of drunken sailors in an English port fighting with the constables. If he did interfere, it ought to be on the side of the law. Why, then, should anyone take the part of drunken sailors, in a foreign port, against the guardians of the peace? To do so is an act of the grossest folly.
"In the first place, the chances are in favour of getting your head laid open with a sword cut. These fellows know they don't stand a chance against Englishmen's fists, and they very soon whip out their swords. In the second place, you would have to pass the night in a crowded lockup, where you would be half smothered before morning. And lastly, if you were lucky enough not to get a week's confinement in jail, you would have a smart fine to pay.
"There is plenty of fighting to be done, in days like these; but people should see that they fight on the right side, and not be taking the part of every drunken scamp who gets into trouble, simply because he happens to be an Englishman.
"You showed plenty of pluck, lad, when the balls were flying about the other day; and when I see your uncle, I am sure he will be pleased when I tell him how well you behaved, under fire; but I am equally certain he would not have been, by any means, gratified at hearing that I had had to leave you behind at Lisbon, either with a broken head or in prison, through getting into a street row, in which you had no possible concern, between drunken sailors and the Portuguese civil guards."
Bob saw that the captain was perfectly right, and said so, frankly.
"I see I should have been a fool, indeed, if I had got into the row, captain; and I shall remember what you say, in future. Still, you know, I didn't get into it."
"No, I give you credit for that, lad; but you acknowledge your strong impulse to do so. Now, in future you had better have an impulse just the other way and, when you find yourself in the midst of a row in which you have no personal concern, let your first thought be how to get out of it, as quickly as you can. I got into more than one scrape, myself, when I was a young fellow, from the conduct of messmates who had got too much liquor in them; but it did them no good, and did me harm.
"So, take my advice: fight your own battles, but never interfere to fight other people's, unless you are absolutely convinced that they are in the right. If you are, stick by them as long as you have a leg to stand upon."
[Chapter 6]: The Rock Fortress.
On the third day after her arrival at Lisbon, the Antelope's anchor was hove up, and she dropped down the river. Half an hour later, a barque and another brig came out and joined her; the three captains having agreed, the day before, that they would sail in company, as they were all bound through the Straits. Captain Lockett had purchased two 14-pounder guns, at Lisbon; and the brig, therefore, now carried three guns on each side, besides her long 18 pounder. The barque carried fourteen guns, and the other brig ten; so that they felt confident of being able to beat off any French privateer they might meet, on the way.
One or two suspicious sails were sighted, as they ran down the coast; but none of these approached within gunshot, the three craft being, evidently, too strong to be meddled with. Rounding Cape St. Vincent at a short distance, they steered for the mouth of the Straits. After the bold cliffs of Portugal, Bob was disappointed with the aspect of the Spanish coast.
"Ah! It is all very well," the first mate replied, when he expressed his opinion. "Give me your low, sandy shores, and let those who like have what you call the fine, bold rocks.
"Mind, I don't mean coasts with sandbanks lying off them; but a coast with a shelving beach, and pretty deep water, right up to it. If you get cast on a coast like that of Portugal, it is certain death. Your ship will get smashed up like an eggshell, against those rocks you are talking of, and not a soul gets a chance of escape; while if you are blown on a flat coast, you may get carried within a ship's length of the beach before you strike, and it is hard if you can't get a line on shore; besides, it is ten to one the ship won't break up, for hours.
"No, you may get a landsman to admire your bold cliffs, but you won't get a sailor to agree with him."
"We seem to be going along fast, although there is not much wind."
"Yes, there is a strong current. You see, the rivers that fall into the Mediterranean ain't sufficient to make up for the loss by evaporation, and so there is always a current running in here. It is well enough for us, going east; but it is not so pleasant, when you want to come out. Then you have got to wait till you can get a breeze, from somewhere about east, to carry you out. I have been kept waiting, sometimes, for weeks; and it is no unusual thing to see two or three hundred ships anchored, waiting for the wind to change."
"Are there any pirates over on that side?" Bob asked, looking across at the African coast.
"Not about here. Ceuta lies over there. They are good friends with us, and Gibraltar gets most of its supplies from there. But once through the Straits we give that coast a wide berth; for the Algerine pirates are nearly as bad as ever, and would snap up any ship becalmed on their coast, or that had the bad luck to be blown ashore. I hope, some day, we shall send a fleet down, and blow the place about their ears. It makes one's blood boil, to think that there are hundreds and hundreds of Englishmen working, as slaves, among the Moors.
"There, do you see that projecting point with a fort on it, and a town lying behind? That is Tarifa. That used to be a great place, in the time when the Moors were masters in Spain."
"Yes," the captain, who had just joined them, said. "Tarif was a great Moorish commander, I have heard, and the place is named after him. Gibraltar is also named after a Moorish chief, called Tarik ibn Zeyad."
Bob looked surprised.
"I don't see that it is much like his name, captain."
"No, Master Repton, it doesn't sound much like it, now. The old name of the place was Gebel Tarik, which means Tank's Hill; and it is easy to see how Gebel Tarik got gradually changed into Gibraltar."
In another two hours the Straits were passed, and the Rock of Gibraltar appeared, rising across a bay to the left.
