“I hope Mr Voules has given you a clearer account than Reginald has himself, for, except that the two ships spent the morning in pounding away at each other, and that at length the Frenchman, being tired of the amusement, and having lost his foremast, hauled down his colours, I have heard no details of the action,” said the marquis.
“Then his modesty prevented him relating how he lashed the bowsprit to the rigging and saved the captain’s life,” observed the marchioness.
“I lash the bowsprit to the rigging? Why, the men did that, and very imperfectly they performed the work, or our antagonist would not have got clear again; and as to saving the captain’s life, I know only that I took up a musket and brought down a Frenchman, or he would have knocked over the captain or me, or somebody else.”
“Whose account is to be relied on?” asked the marquis, looking somewhat puzzled.
“I do not wish to gainsay my noble messmate, but your lordship must make allowance for his modesty, and give me credit for stating facts as they occurred,” answered Voules.
“I see how it is,” observed the marquis, glancing approvingly at his son.
“Merit is always modest, which may account, Mr Voules, for your not having described your own gallant deeds,” said the marchioness, looking hard at him. Being a clear-sighted woman, she may have suspected why the smooth-tongued young gentleman had praised his noble messmate.
“But how did the Wolf and her prize manage to escape from the enemy?” asked Lady Julia. “Pray go on and tell us, Mr Voules.”
“For some time I must own that we fully expected to be captured, for wounded as our masts and spars were, we could not venture to make more sail; indeed, it is a wonder those of the prize which remained standing did not fall over the side. Fortunately, we had a good start, and the wind being light, the French ships did not gain on us as fast as they would otherwise have done. To our infinite satisfaction, just about noon, we saw them haul their wind, having been probably recalled by their admiral, who thought it possible that they might run into the jaws of an English squadron, which he must have known was cruising in the neighbourhood. We had still no small anxiety about our prisoners, and, I believe, it was not a little owing to the vigilance of Lord Reginald that they were prevented from rising. His perfect knowledge of French, for which he tells me he is indebted to his sisters, enabled him to speak to the men, warning them of the danger they would run should they make the attempt, and in a short time he brought them into good humour, notwithstanding which, as before, a strict watch was kept on their movements. Having stood well to the westward, we got a fair breeze, which carried us up Channel and safe inside the Isle of Wight, where I hope the prize is by this time, for she was close in with the Needles, and was only prevented following us for want of wind and the ebb still making out against her. It would be a serious matter if she were to run on shore during the night, or be retaken by a French cruiser.”
“No chance of that,” observed Reginald. “No French cruiser would ever venture so close in with our shore, and within two or three hours at most the prize would be able to follow the frigate.”