“At all events, wet blankets must be a good thing, Ned, so let us pull out the hammocks; cut the lanyards and get some out—we can but offer them, you know, and if they do no good, at least it will show our zeal.”
“Yes, Jack, and I think when they turn in again, those whose blankets you take will agree with you that zeal makes the service very uncomfortable. However, I think you are right.”
The two midshipmen collected three or four hands, and in a very short time they had more blankets than they could carry—there was no trouble in wetting them, for the main deck was afloat—and followed by the men they had collected, Easy and Gascoigne went down with large bundles in their arms to where Captain Wilson was giving directions to the men.
“Excellent, Mr Easy! excellent, Mr Gascoigne;” said Captain Wilson. “Come, my lads, throw them over now, and stamp upon them well;” the men’s jackets and the captain’s coat had already been sacrificed to the same object.
Easy called the other midshipmen, and they went up for a further supply; but there was no occasion, the fire had been smothered: still the danger had been so great that the fore magazine had been floated. During all this, which lasted perhaps a quarter of an hour, the frigate had rolled gunwale under, and many were the accidents which occurred. At last all danger from fire had ceased, and the men were ordered to return to their quarters, when three officers and forty-seven men were found absent—seven of them were dead—most of them were already under the care of the surgeon, but some were still lying in the scuppers.
No one had been more active or more brave during this time of danger than Mr Hawkins the chaplain. He was everywhere, and when Captain Wilson went down to put out the fire he was there, encouraging the men and exerting himself most gallantly. He and Mesty came aft when all was over, one just as black as the other. The chaplain sat down and wrung his hands—“God forgive me!” said he, “God forgive me!”
“Why so, sir?” said Easy, who stood near, “I am sure you need not be ashamed of what you have done.”
“No, no, not ashamed of what I’ve done; but, Mr Easy—I have sworn so, sworn such oaths at the men in my haste—I, the chaplain! God forgive me!—I meant nothing.” It was very true that Mr Hawkins had sworn a great deal during his exertions, but he was at that time the quarter-deck officer and not the chaplain; the example to the men and his gallantry had been most serviceable.
“Indeed, sir,” said Easy, who saw that the chaplain was in great tribulation, and hoped to pacify him, “I was certainly not there all the time, but I only heard you say, ‘God bless you, my men! be smart,’ and so on; surely, that is not swearing.”
“Was it that I said, Mr Easy, are you sure? I really had an idea that I had damned them all in heaps, as some of them deserved—no, no, not deserved. Did I really bless them—nothing but bless them?”