All night we stood on under close-reefed canvas, and when the next morning dawned, I saw land to the southward. Its appearance evidently puzzled the Frenchmen. I guessed it to be no other than that of the island of Guernsey; while not a mile off, standing towards us under her topsails, was a large schooner. Had the Frenchmen altered their course, and run away from her, it would have excited the suspicions of those on board, so they kept on as before. This plan, however, did not avail them. A shot, which before long came whistling across our fore-foot, showed them that they were wanted alongside the schooner. The schooner hoisted English colours, and from her general appearance I had no doubt that she was a privateer. As soon, therefore, as the boat went alongside, I sung out that I was an Englishman, and a prisoner.
“Halloa! Who’s that?” said a man, looking over the side of the schooner. “What! Jack Williams, is that you?” The speaker, without waiting for my reply, let himself down into the boat, and as he grasped my hand, I recognised him as my old acquaintance Jacob Lyal.
Pointing to my arm, I told him that I had been wounded, and how ill I was; and he at once sung out for a sling, and in another minute I was safely placed on the deck of the vessel.
The captain of the schooner then ordered the Frenchmen into the boat, and putting some of his people in her, she was dropped astern. I don’t know what he said to the Frenchmen, but they seemed far from contented with the change of lot. I learned afterwards that he wanted the boat to go in and cut out some French merchantmen.
The schooner had a surgeon on board, and when the captain heard the account I gave Lyal of my late adventures, he directed that I should be immediately placed under his charge. I flesh, as soon as the fever abated, I got rapidly well and fit for duty.
The schooner was, I found, the Black Joke, belonging to the island of Guernsey. Lyal so worked on my imagination, by the accounts he gave of the life of a privateer’s-man, and the prize-money to be made, that he soon persuaded me to enter aboard her. There cannot be the shadow of a doubt that I ought to have gone back, by the first opportunity, to join my own ship; though, of course, I knew that, under the circumstances of the case, I ran very little fear of punishment by not doing so, should I at any time happen to fall in with her. The schooner was a very large vessel of her class, and mounted sixteen 6-pounders, with a crew of some eighty men or more. Captain Savage, who commanded her, was a bold dashing fellow, but he cared nothing for honour, or glory, or patriotism. He had only one object in view in fighting—it was to make money. Privateering was the shortest and easiest way he knew of, and as his professional knowledge and experience fitted him for the life, he took the command of the Black Joke. His first officer, Mr Le Gosselen, was just the man for the sort of work to be done. He was a strongly-built, short, bull-necked man, and a first-rate seaman; but whatever human sympathies he might have had in his youth had all apparently been washed out of him.
The schooner had only left Guernsey, after a refit, the day before I was taken on board her. I had been a fortnight in her before any prize of consequence was made. A few coasters had been surprised by means of the fishing-boat, but their cargoes were of very little value, and only two or three were worth sending into port. Of the rest, some were sunk, and others allowed to continue on their voyage, after anything worth having was taken out of them. The time had at last arrived when Captain Savage hoped to fall in with a convoy of French ships coming home from the West Indies. For a week or more we cruised about in the latitude they would probably be found in, but we saw nothing of them.
At length, at daybreak one morning, several sail were seen hull down to the northward, and steering east. The wind was about south, so we stood away close-hauled towards them, in order to reconnoitre them more perfectly. As the sun rose, and we drew nearer, many more appeared, their white sails dotting the ocean far and wide.
“That’s what we’ve been looking for, my lads!” cried the captain, pointing them out to the crew. “If we get hold of two or three of those fellows, we shall soon line our pockets with gold.”
A loud cheer fore and aft showed that the speech suited the taste of his hearers. Great, indeed, was the contrast in the discipline between a privateer and a man-of-war. There was plenty of flogging, and swearing, and rope’s-ending, which the officers considered necessary to keep up their authority; but there was also a free-and-easy swagger, and an independent air about the men, which showed that they considered themselves on a par with their officers, and that they could quit the vessel whenever they fancied a change. At first I did not at all like it, but by degrees I got accustomed to the life, and imitated the example of all around.