When the gentleman had gone, Newman and I discussed who he could be. “Rather an inquisitive old fellow, I suspect,” said Newman. “He is a Dutchman, I judge, by the way he pronounced both German and French, though he spoke them well.”
“How are you so well able to distinguish the difference in pronunciation?” I asked.
“I was educated in Germany,” he answered. “I learned a good many things there besides what my tutors intended to teach me. You must not suppose that I could have picked up the various bits of information I possess in any English place of education. As it is, we beat most other nations in whatever we set our hands to; but if English lads had the same style of instruction given in most of the countries in Europe, modified to suit our characters, we should beat them all hollow, wherever we encountered them abroad.”
It must be remembered that this conversation took place many years ago, and that very considerable improvements have since taken place in the style of education afforded to boys in many of our schools in England.
We thought very little at the time of our encounter with the Dutch gentleman, though, as it proved, it had a very great influence on Newman’s fate.
When we got on board, we found that the ship was likely to remain some time longer in the Roads, and that we might have a chance of seeing something more of the country. As Malays, or natives, are employed in those hot climates to do the hard work on board ship, as Kroomen are on the coast of Africa—such as wooding and watering—we had more leisure time than we should otherwise have enjoyed. That evening a number of us, among whom was Tom Knowles, were sitting on the forecastle spinning yarns, when he told us what I did not know before—that he had served aboard a man-of-war at the taking of Java.
“You must know, mates,” he began, taking out his quid and stowing it away in his waistcoat-pocket, “I belonged to a whaler which was lost out here, when those of her crew who escaped were picked up by an Indiaman and carried to Madras. I with others was there pressed on board the Caroline frigate. I didn’t much like it at first; but when I had shaken myself, and looked about me, and heard that the captain was a fine sort of a fellow, I thought it was just as well to do my duty like a man, and to make myself happy. Captain Cole, that was his name, wasn’t a chap to let the grass grow under the ship’s bottom. Directly after I joined, we were ordered off to Amboyna, in company with the Piemontaise, Captain Foote; the 18-gun brig Barracouta; and transport Mandarin, with a hundred European soldiers. We heard that when the captain went to take his leave of the admiral—Drury was his name—he asked leave just to knock up some of the Dutch settlements on the way.
“‘Well,’ says the admiral, ‘there’s no harm just frightening them a little, and you may be able to surprise a port or two; but don’t go and get into mischief, now, and hurt yourselves. There are several impregnable places, such as Banda, for instance, which it would be out of the question for you to attack. Vast heaps of wealth are stored up there, so the Dutch will take precious good care that you don’t get into the place.’
“‘We’ll see about that,’ thought the captain to himself, winking with the eye which was turned away from the admiral. ‘Of course, sir, we’ll do nothing rash,’ says he. ‘It isn’t the way of English sailors. We are always steady, sure sort of fellows.’
“‘That’s right,’ says the admiral; and away went the captain, having made up his mind to a thing or two.