I remonstrated, but out came the colt, and with an argument so cogent I was fain to adopt my messmate’s remedy. It was a terrible trial. At first, I could scarcely bring my teeth to meet; but Perigal flourished his weapon, and my jaws went faster and faster, till I was not sorry to finish the whole of the biscuit and bacon placed before me, and could have taken twice as much if I could have got it. Perigal was right. From that day to this I have never suffered from sea-sickness.
Toby Bluff had undergone a similar ordeal, and when I was well enough to go and look for him, I found him scraping away at a beef bone, from which he had just removed the last particle of meat.
The summer gale was soon over, and once more we stood in for the land to look after the Frenchmen. As we drew in, I saw the captain and officers eagerly scanning the coast with their glasses, and it was soon known that a ship had been discovered at anchor by herself in a bay almost abreast of where we then were. She was protected, however, by the guns of some strongish batteries.
“We must have her out, though,” observed Captain Collyer; and forthwith the proposal was made to our consorts by signal.
Neither of the captains was the sort of man to decline engaging in the undertaking. Off we went, under every stitch of canvas we could carry, to look for the admiral, who, with a fleet sufficient to render a good account of the enemy, should they venture out of harbour, was cruising in the neighbourhood.
Admiral Cornwallis highly approved of the proposal. “Go and do it,” was his laconic reply. He was more addicted to acts than words. He sent a lieutenant, in whom he placed great confidence, to take command, and a boat and boat’s crew from the flagship to lead. This was not quite as complimentary a proceeding as the three captains would have liked; but they were all too zealous and too anxious to get the work done to stand on ceremony. Away back we sailed, till we once more made out the entrance to the bay, which was called Camaret Bay.
The craft we were about to attack, and hoped to capture, was the Chevrette, a ship corvette, mounting twenty guns—a powerful vessel, and not likely to be taken without a severe struggle. Notice was given that volunteers would be required for the service, and immediately the greater part of the officers and crews of the three frigates came forward. Among those who volunteered from the Doris was Mr Bryan, the second lieutenant; Mr Johnson, the boatswain; and Edkins, the captain’s coxswain. All were allowed to go. The captain had great confidence in Mr Bryan; and I suspect that he had a fancy to ascertain what Mr Johnson really was made of.
We brought up at our usual anchorage, and the remainder of the day was occupied in making preparations for the expedition. I saw Mr Johnson very busily employed in his cabin in cleaning his pistols.
“Come in, Mr Merry,” he said, as he caught sight of me. “These are old friends of mine: they have served me many a good turn before now. If it was not for these pistols I should not have been in the land of the living: some day I’ll tell you how it happened. Well, we are likely to have some desperate work to-night, and no one can tell whose lot it will be to fall. That reminds me, Mr Merry, I have written a letter to my wife, and I will intrust it to you. That is more than I would do to any other midshipman in the ship. She is a charming person—every inch a lady, and a lady of rank, too. One thing I must charge you—do not speak of me as a boatswain. She has no idea that I hold so subordinate a rank. She believes that I am an officer, and so I am; only I am a warrant and not a commissioned officer. Just tell her that I died fighting bravely for my country. Her name—for she is not called Mrs Johnson—and address you will find within that enclosure. If I come back, you will restore it to me as it is; if I fall, you will know what to do with it.”
I thanked Mr Johnson very much for the confidence he reposed in me, but told him that I had come for the very purpose of asking him to let me go in his boat.