For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

by G. A. Henty

Captain Mayhew first gave his account of the fight between the Sea Belle and the pirates, beginning at the point when, as he was hotly chased and despairing of making a successful defense, the canoe with the two lads in it came out to him. Then Will was called upon to explain how he came to be there, at that moment. He told briefly how the fishing smack was sunk, how he had saved himself by clinging to the bob stay of the Dutch Indianan, and how he had sailed in this vessel to Java; and was on his way in her to China, when wrecked in the cyclone.

Here his audience insisted upon his giving them full details; and he accordingly told them the manner in which he and a few of the crew had escaped; how, when they were building a boat, they had been attacked by Malays, and all--except another lad and himself, who were hiding in a tree--were massacred by the pirates; how they had gone inland to a village where, having aided the natives when attacked by a hostile tribe, they had been most kindly received; how they had finally obtained a canoe, and spent their time in fishing, in hopes of seeing a passing sail; until the Sea Belle, chased by the Malay pirates, had appeared off the shore.

There was a genuine murmur of approval, from those thickly clustered round, as the lad finished his story; and the colonel warmly expressed his approval of his conduct, under such exciting circumstances.

"What are you going to do, now?" he asked.

"I have not made up my mind, sir," the lad said. "I expect that I shall ship in some vessel sailing for England, shortly."

"Major Harrison," the colonel said, "will you and Captain Mayhew come with me to my cabin?

"I should like to have a few minutes' private chat with you," he went on, putting his hand on Will's shoulder.

A minute or two later, the three gentlemen and Will were seated in the private cabin.

"Look here, my boy," the colonel said; "I have heard, from Major Harrison, what you had told Captain Mayhew concerning your birth and, certainly, your appearance and manner go far to sustain the belief that the tramp who left you was not your mother, and that your parents were of gentle birth. I do not say that a man's birth makes much difference to him; still, it does go for something and, in nine cases out of ten, the difference both in face and figure is unmistakable. Unless I am very wrong, your father was a gentleman.

"However, that is not to the point: it is your quickness and activity, your coolness in danger, and the adventures which you have gone through which interest us in you. Now I think it is a pity that a lad, who has shown that there is so much in him, should remain a sailor before the mast. You have not been so long at sea as to become wedded to it, and to be unable to turn your hands to anything else.