This was good news. With happy hearts the two friends went on board the Lily, which was now ready for sea. They found Lieutenant Horrocks packing up, ready to go on board a frigate just sailing for England.
“I expect to enjoy a few weeks’ hunting before I get a ship, and when I do get one I shall be very glad to have you, Rayner, with me, should you be unemployed,” he said as they parted.
Rayner would have preferred retaining the command of the Active, but an officer older than himself was appointed to her, and he could not complain.
Once more the Lily was at sea. She cruised for some months, during which she captured several prizes, and cut out two others in a very gallant manner under the guns of a strong battery. Oliver soon afterwards had the satisfaction of being confirmed in his rank as lieutenant.
Though Commander Saltwell made honourable mention of our hero on each occasion, he received no further recognition of his services. “I have no business to complain,” he observed. “My position is only that of many others who have done more than I have, but I should like to be wearing an epaulette on my right shoulder when we get home, and obtain a command with you, Oliver, as my first lieutenant.”
With this exception, Rayner never alluded to the subject.
The Lily’s cruise was nearly up. She had lately sent away in her prizes her master and several petty officers and seamen, so that out of her establishment she could scarcely muster more than a hundred men.
It was night, a light breeze blowing, the island of Desirade bearing south-east by south, distant six or seven leagues. The two lieutenants had been talking of home. In a few months they expected to be at Plymouth, and Rayner’s thoughts had been occupied, as they often were, with his brother officer’s sweet sister, Mary Crofton.
Rayner had just come on deck to relieve Oliver, who had the middle watch. He had been pacing the deck, waiting for daylight, to commence the morning operation of washing decks, and was looking to windward, when, as the light slowly increased, at some little distance off he made out the dim outline of a large ship. Whether she was a friend or foe he could not determine; if the latter, the position of the Lily was critical in the extreme. He instantly sent the midshipman of the watch to arouse the commander, who hurried on deck. After watching the stranger for a few seconds, they both came to the conclusion that she was a frigate, and, as they knew of no English vessel of her class likely to be thereabouts, that she was French.
“Turn the hands up and make sail,” said the commander. “We shall probably have to fight, but when the odds are so decidedly against us, it is my duty to avoid an action if I can.”