Admiral Blake was now in chase of Prince Rupert’s squadron, which it was his intention, should he fail to overtake it at sea, to shut up in Kinsale harbour. This, to me especially, was satisfactory news, for I had not forgotten the remark made by Colonel Blake to my father, that he should like to have me with him, and I felt very sure that he was a man who would fulfil his intentions.
I mentioned this to Mr Robert Blake, who promised on the first opportunity to take me on board the flag-ship and introduce me to the admiral.
“Not that you will require an introduction,” he answered; “my uncle never forgets those he has once known, and, though grown, you are not altered much from the little fellow I remember at Lyme.”
I felt bound to put in a word for my two friends, as also for Martin, whose brave conduct on board the Charles I described, when he refused to fire at the Constant Warwick.
“It would not become me to make promises to you,” he replied, “but you may depend upon it that the admiral will not overlook such conduct, and as Shobbrok is an experienced seaman, he will gladly place him in some position of trust on board.”
The other frigate which had assisted in the capture of the Charles was, I should have said, the Seaford. The breeze freshening, we had no opportunity of going on board the Triumph, Admiral Blake’s flag-ship, as he was pressing on under all sail in chase of the corsairs. The frigates led the way, and the next morning, from the mast-head of the Constant Warwick, we caught sight of well-nigh a score of ships right ahead. That they were those of Prince Rupert we had no doubt; but they must have seen us coming, and having no stomach to engage in fight—for they knew by this time who commanded the English fleet—they pressed on before us.
We continued in chase under every stitch of canvas we could carry, hoping to come up with one or more of the rearmost ships and to bring them to action, so as to keep them employed till the rest of the fleet should arrive and compel them to strike. The breeze freshened, and the Constant Warwick, followed closely by two other frigates, tore through the water, as if eager to overtake her foes.
“Hold on, good sticks!” cried the captain, looking aloft. “Time enough to go overboard when we have grappled the enemy.”
The topgallant masts bent like willow wands, and I expected every moment to see them fall, but though the lofty sails tugged and tugged, yet they held fast, and we hoped that we should yet be in time to stop some of the corsairs before they could get into harbour. The Triumph was still far away astern, followed by the rest of the fleet, our captain doing his best to drive his ship through the water. The corsairs did not gain upon us, and we well knew that for a good hour or more we should have them to ourselves, should we overtake them. Captain Stayner walked the deck, now casting his eye ahead at the enemy, now aloft at the straining canvas, and now astern, to judge, by the way the sails of the Triumph were blowing out, how the wind was holding in that direction. Presently the lofty canvas was seen to hang down against the masts, then slowly to blow out again. In a short time our own royals and topgallant sails followed their bad example. The captain gave a stamp of impatience on the deck. The breeze was falling, even the topsails and courses no longer bellied out as before. Still, the frigates glided on, but the sluggish eddies astern showed how greatly their speed had decreased.
At length, on the larboard bow, the old head of Kinsale appeared in sight, with Prince Rupert’s ships passing round it. Still, they too might get becalmed and a change of wind enable us to approach them. Our hopes, however, were doomed to be disappointed. Though the wind was light, they moved as fast as we did, and the lighter vessels getting out their sweeps, they ere long disappeared, shrouded by the gloom of evening, and by the time we came off the mouth of the harbour not a sail was to be discerned.