“I thank heaven that you are able to speak thus,” said Denham, “and we shall soon be on board the frigate, and the doctor will look to your hurts.”
Mr Evans had the satisfaction of observing two other vessels following him out of the harbour, while a bright light which burst forth some way up it showed that the other boats had had time to set some merchantmen on fire. War is a fearful thing at all times, but more sad even is it when it compels the destruction of private property.
No one, however, would have objected to the destruction of privateers. It is pretty well agreed they partake more of the character of pirates than honourable combatants; their only object is to rob the merchantmen of the enemy, so as to become themselves the possessors of their rich freight. They do not fight for honour or glory, and they care as little for the good of their country. It is true, however, that the privateers, by injuring the commerce of the enemy, frequently make that enemy more anxious to come to terms, but in most cases both parties are engaged in the same infamous system; both equally suffer, and both increase the horrors and sufferings of warfare.
When morning dawned, the prizes were found collected round the frigate. Denham’s first care was to get the wounded young midshipman conveyed on board, that the doctor might immediately look at his hurts. He did not attempt to conceal his sorrow and anxiety. He seemed to feel that it was from his carelessness by some means or other the poor lad had been injured. Mr Evans had a very different account to give of him, however, and at once generously informed Captain Falkner that it was to his nerve and courage that he himself owed his life.
The Frenchmen were removed on board the frigate, and an English prize crew being placed on board each of the prizes, they and their captor steered a course for Jamaica. Captain Falkner offered to place Denham in command of one of the prizes, but his anxiety for young Lord Fitz Barry made him beg that he might be allowed to remain on board the frigate.
A considerable time had passed since the arrival of the Cynthia on the station. A season dreaded by all navigators of those seas was now approaching—the hurricane season. Fearful is the devastation often produced on shore and on the ocean at that period. Not many years before several line of battle ships and other vessels had either foundered with their crews, or had been driven on shore, where the larger number of the men belonging to them had perished. Captain Falkner was anxious, therefore, to get back without delay to Port Royal harbour. They were, however, within a couple of days’ sail of Jamaica when the frigate was becalmed; during the middle of the day, although a thick mist overspread the sky and hid the rays of the sun, the heat was excessive. Below the ship was like an oven, on deck not a breath of air was to be obtained. The men, in their white shirts and trousers, moved languidly about, literally gasping for breath. The sails hung uselessly down against the masts, and the frigate’s head went slowly round and round, now pointing in one direction and now in another, though it was difficult to say by what power she was moved.
The heat affected young Barry greatly. Denham sat by his side whenever he could leave his duty on deck, anxiously watching his friend. Ned Davis also came where the wounded midshipman lay, and begged that he might be allowed to take Denham’s place by his side. It was curious to observe how Denham had won the lad’s affection and admiration. There seemed to have been no previous tie between them; they had met, it was understood, for the first time as shipmates on board the merchantman from which they had volunteered, and it was possible neither of them knew much about each other’s previous history. No nurse could have administered the medicine prescribed by the doctor with more care and regularity than did Denham and his volunteer assistant.
“I hope I shall not die,” said Fitz Barry, taking his hand, “I want very much again to see my kind father, and my dear little sister Nora, whom I have told you about, and my cousin Sophy; and do you know, I think I shall see them before long. The last letter I got from home, my father told me that he expected to obtain an appointment as governor of one of the West India islands. It is not a thing he would have accepted under ordinary circumstances, but the truth is, I suspect, that it has been very expensive living in Ireland for the last few years, and he thinks it will be wise to economise a little. I do not know much about these things; he has supplied me liberally with money, and that is all I have to think about. I believe Captain Falkner expects to see him out here, for he spoke of him the other day, and you know, I do not mind telling you, that I believe our skipper is going to marry Sophy one of these days. I am sure you would like her and my sister if you ever were to see them. I do not know which you would like best. Nora is a very sweet little girl, or at least, by the bye, she must have grown since I left home a good deal. She is older than I am rather, and so fair and gentle, but she has not the spirit of Sophy, or her cleverness; Sophy is a wonderfully clever girl, she draws so well. She used to make such beautiful portraits of people. However, I must not praise her too much, or you may possibly be disappointed.”
Denham told Fitz Barry that he should very much like to be introduced to his relations; “but you know,” he observed, “I am afraid they will think very little of me when they hear that I was a boy before the mast. I tell you, Barry, we are messmates, and therefore it is right that we should be equal; but from what I have learned, that will not do on shore; people think there a good deal about the difference of rank, and if I was to make my appearance among some of those great people, they might treat me in a way that I should not at all like. I have become very proud, I am afraid, since I have been placed on the quarter-deck, not for myself, perhaps, so much, but for the honour of the rank I bear, for the cloth, even though I am as yet but a midshipman.”
Fitz Barry smiled faintly, and answered languidly, “O, no fear of that; I am sure my father and Sophy are not a bit proud; and as to Nora, I don’t think she has a particle of that sort of thing in her; so when they come, you must promise to let me make you known to them.”