Lieutenant Cary was the officer appointed to set him free. "Harley," said he, "you have shown a bold spirit in a bad cause; let us now see what you can do for your country. It will be my duty to head the boarding-party. Let me see you near me!"
"You shall see me near you!" said young Harley, grasping the cutlass which Cary put into his hand: "I would do much for you! You are the only man who has felt for me as a fellow-creature since I was torn from my home."
By this time the decks were cleared; and, everything being prepared for action on both sides, the Frenchmen approached pretty close. During the awful pause, while this unequal force bore down upon them, perhaps even some of the boldest hearts felt a chill of anxiety; for they were not fighting now for wealth or conquest, but for life, liberty, and the honour of their flag,—that flag which they had borne in triumph round half the world, and which had never yet been lowered to a foe. True, the odds against them were tremendous; but they were British seamen, and would not doubt the result. Yet there was the heart of one amongst them that throbbed high with desperate ardour for the combat, with the hope of redeeming disgrace, and showing that he was worthy a better fate than the death of a felon.
The engagement was long and sanguinary; but British valour at length prevailed, and the French ships were forced to sheer off in a shattered condition, leaving the Diomede little better than a wreck on the mid ocean. The retreat of the enemy was, however, a glorious and hard-earned triumph; and the brave officers and crew of the Diomede were conscious of having performed their duty, and protected the charge committed to their care by their country.
After matters were a little set to rights on deck, and the officers had assembled round their gallant Captain, to congratulate him on the retreat of the enemy, Sir Henry Stanley ordered the young mutineer to be brought before him. Philip made his appearance, pale and bleeding, but with a determined countenance.
"Young man," said Sir Henry, "you have done your duty to-day. I have to thank you for twice saving the life of my friend, Lieutenant Cary: he speaks highly of your conduct in boarding. Your offences are forgiven—you may return to your duty; and, I hope, from this day, your conduct will be as remarkable for obedience, as it has before been the reverse."
Philip raised his eyes to his commander's face, and reading there an expression of manly pity and candour, he was so completely softened by conduct which he little expected from Lord Robert's uncle, that he said, with tears, he had acted wrong, and would spend his best blood, or even his life, if required, to amend his fault.
"Then," said Sir Henry, "ask pardon of Lord Robert Summers for the outrage you have committed, and all will be well, if you persevere in your good resolutions."
"I will ask your pardon, Sir Henry, on my knees, for having rebelled against so good and gracious a commander, and for having struck one of your officers; but I cannot ask forgiveness of Lord Robert Summers, since he was the first to injure me, long before I saw this ship."
Lord Robert, who stood by his uncle's side, gave him a disdainful look; Philip's eyes answered scorn with scorn.