The Pirate of the Mediterranean: A Tale of the Sea

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Every one on board the Ione prayed for a fair wind, and plenty of it, to carry them along rapidly to the scene of their operations. The officers, who could but sympathise with their captain from having known Ada Garden, were, of course, the most eager, and never, perhaps, were a set of men collected better able to aid in accomplishing the same object.

Mr Saltwell, the first lieutenant, was a first-rate officer. He had been constantly before at sea as a first lieutenant; for though his good qualities were known in the service, he had very little interest. Whatever was the work in hand, he contrived to get it done in the best possible way without noise or trouble, so that he was always liked by the men, and the ships in which he served were kept in excellent order. In appearance he was slight and dark, for his countenance was well bronzed by tropical suns, and he was too active to grow fat. His manners were gentlemanly, though he had a remarkably small amount of soft-sawder about him; and all sincerity himself, he could not believe that people were speaking falsely to him, and was at times rather apt to come out roundly with the truth, to the astonishment of those who heard him; so that he was clearly not fitted to be a courtier. Captain Fleetwood had a great respect and regard for him, as he knew him well, for they had before served together.

The second lieutenant, Henry Linton, was a young man of good family and considerable interest, he had been made a lieutenant as soon as he had served his time, and he expected shortly to receive his commander’s commission. He was a very gentlemanly, amiable fellow; and as he had good sense and much observation, and had always attended to his duty, he was a very fair seaman and a good officer. In his heart of hearts he rather pitied, not to say despised, Saltwell, for his want of the polish he possessed and his indifference to the elegancies of life, though he was not unable to appreciate his messmate’s frankness of manner and truthfulness of character. His foible was his admiration for the poets, and his belief that he could write poetry and was a first-rate critic.

The purser, Mr Jones, was an honest, painstaking man, with a large family, and he came to sea for their benefit, after having nearly given up the service.

Than the master, no one in the service was a better navigator. He was a self-taught genius, for he had gone to sea originally before the mast, and even in that capacity had found time to gain instructions in navigation, geography, history, and many other sciences. He was for some time rated as a schoolmaster of a frigate, and afterwards entered as a master’s assistant, and was soon promoted to the rank of master. Mr Norton was, notwithstanding his early associates, a man of pleasing, gentlemanly manners, and a real favourite with all hands, and his vast fund of information and anecdote made him a great acquisition to a mess.

The surgeon, Mr Viall, was, for a wonder, an Englishman. He was supposed to be able to amputate limbs with great accuracy, and was a very respectable man. Though he had been some years at sea, he had never contrived to learn anything about nautical affairs; and one day, in Malta harbour, he went on board a large merchantman, which happened to be brought up at no great distance from his ship, and was going below before he discovered that he had got into the wrong box.

The assistant-surgeon, O’Farrall, was an Irishman, and much more of a character. He had, shortly before the time of which I speak, come to sea for the first time. A day or two after he had joined the Ione, one of the marines insulted him by quizzing his Irish brogue, so he forthwith lodged his complaint with Mr Saltwell. The first lieutenant desired him to point out the man.

“Faith, I don’t remember exactly the cut of his mug,” said he; “but I made sure of knowing the spalpeen again by that same, that his name is Tower.”

“How do you know that his name is Tower? I think he must have deceived you. We havn’t a man of that name on board.”

“Oh! by—, he couldn’t decave me, lieutenant, darlin’, then; for though he didn’t recollect it, I’ll be sworn, or he’d a kept a more dacent tongue in his mouth, I saw his name of Tower graven on his musket.”