The sea was smooth; the sun shone brightly; and the Ouzel Galley made good way towards Waterford. She was, however, upwards of a hundred miles from that port, and might before reaching it fall in with another French ship. She was, indeed, now in a part of the ocean in which privateers were likely to be cruising, on the look-out for homeward-bound vessels. It was necessary, therefore, to avoid any strange sail till her character could be positively ascertained. A hand was accordingly stationed aloft to give timely notice should a sail appear in sight. This, of course, weakened the crew, who were already insufficient to work the ship; the wounded men, though they had aided in overpowering the Frenchmen, were but little capable of performing continuous work. Owen felt his wound very painful, yet he persisted in attending to his duty, and could scarcely be persuaded to lie down on the sofa for a short time to rest, while the captain took his watch on deck. Gerald was highly applauded by his father and Owen for his courage and judgment, which had so much contributed to the recapture of the vessel; even the French lieutenant expressed his admiration of the way he had behaved.
“If young English boys are so brave and cool, no wonder that we should have been overpowered,” he observed. “I only wish that we had had a French boy on board, and it is not impossible that he might have discovered your plot and counteracted it. The next time I have charge of a prize, I will place a French boy to watch the English boys, and then we shall see which is the sharpest.”
“I don’t know which may prove the sharpest, but I am ready to fight any two French boys of my own age I have ever met in my life,” answered Gerald, laughing; “first one come on, and then the other, or both together, provided they’ll keep in front, or let me have a wall at my back, when they’re welcome to do their worst.”
“Ah, you are too boastful,” said the lieutenant.
“Pardon me, monsieur, not at all. I am only sticking up for the honour of Old Ireland,” answered Gerald.
The Ouzel Galley was drawing nearer to her port, and the chances of recapture diminished; still there was another night’s run, and no one liked to boast till they were out of the fire. The crew of the Ouzel Galley were pretty well worn out, and it was with the greatest difficulty many of them could keep their eyes open. Perhaps the Frenchmen counted on this, and the hope that they yet might regain their liberty prevented them from losing their spirits, and they amused themselves by singing snatches of songs and every now and then shouting out to each other. They were also well supplied with food, and as much grog as they chose to drink.
“It’s shure to comfort their hearts,” observed Dan, as he went round with a big can and a tin cup; “besides, they’ll be less likely to prove troublesome.”
The night came on; the captain, Owen, and Gerald did their best to encourage the men and to urge them to keep awake, however sleepy they might feel, continually going among them and reminding them that in a few hours more they might turn in and sleep for as many hours as they might like at a stretch, without the fear of being knocked on the head and thrown overboard. “And, my lads,” observed the captain, “if the Frenchmen retake us, depend upon it that’s the way we shall be treated—they’ll not give us another chance.”
The only person who slept that night was Norah, who, although she had not gone through any physical exertion, had felt more anxiety than any one, from knowing the risk those whom she loved were about to run. It would be difficult to describe her feelings as she saw her father and Owen steal upon dock to attack the man at the helm; and often during that night she started up, believing that the scene was again being enacted.
The wind continued fair; the Ouzel Galley held on her course, and no suspicious sail came near her during the night.