The Rival Crusoes

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Dick kept out of the midshipman’s way as much as he could, though he continued actively engaged as before. His spirits rose with the feeling that he was at liberty, and that he had gained Lieutenant Mason’s good opinion. “I wish that I had been allowed to remain on board the cutter. I could serve under her commander, and do my duty. But when I get on board the frigate, all will be changed, I fear,” he said to himself; “however, I must not think about that. I must do my duty as well as I can now, and maybe he’ll speak a word for me, though I have little to expect from such fellows as Mr Voules and his friend.”

The breeze continued, The Start was passed, the Eddystone light came in sight. No one on board the vessels turned in. The whole crew on board the lugger could only just manage her sails, while that of the cutter were required to keep a watch on the prisoners. The two vessels kept close together, Voules every now and then hailing the cutter, to learn if all was right on board her. The lugger had twice to shorten sail, or she would have run ahead. Dick, as he walked forward, kept his eye on the cutter. The idea had come into his head that the Frenchmen might rise on their captors. He had formed a higher estimate of their courage than had most of his shipmates. The lugger was now about twenty fathoms off on the cutter’s quarter. Voules, who had become very hungry, telling the man at the helm to keep the vessel as she was going, dived below, in the hopes of finding something to eat. Two or three of the men, following his example, had gone below, with the same object in view. Dick, who was standing on the lugger’s forecastle, with his eye turned towards the cutter, suddenly saw a flash, though there was no report. This was immediately followed by shouts and oaths.

“Starboard!” he cried out to the man at the helm; “there’s something going wrong on board the cutter.”

The lugger was just then feeling the breeze, and forging ahead. This brought her bows close to the cutter’s side. Dick could see that a struggle was going on around the main hatchway, up which a number of figures were forcing themselves. His cries brought the lugger’s men forward. To lash the two vessels together was the work of a moment, and then he, with five of his shipmates, leaped down on the cutter’s deck. Their arrival turned the scales in favour of the crew, who, surprised by a sudden uprising of the French prisoners, were struggling hard to keep them down, several having incautiously unbuckled their cutlasses while engaged in repairing the rigging. Lieutenant Mason and Lord Reginald were aft, at supper. So sudden and silent had been the rising, that they had only just before reached the scene of action when the lugger ran alongside. “Thank you, Voules; you came in the nick of time,” cried Lieutenant Mason, when the Frenchmen were forced below.

Voules made no reply. He had been busily engaged in the lugger’s cabin, and was not aware of what had taken place until all was over.

“It was this here lad, sir, who did it,” exclaimed the seaman who had received the blow aimed at Dick’s shoulders; “he see’d what was happening. If it hadn’t been for him, no one else would have found it out.”

“Thank you, Richard Hargrave; that is the second time to-day you have rendered me good service,” said Lieutenant Mason.

“Richard Hargrave!” said Lord Reginald; “he is the last person I should have thought likely to do anything worthy of praise.”

“Depend upon it, your lordship will find there is something in that lad, if he has the opportunity of proving it,” observed Lieutenant Mason.

No lives had been lost in the outbreak. Order was quickly restored, the lashings cast off, and the lugger’s crew returning to her, the two vessels pursued their course as before. The Frenchmen now saw that all hope of escape was gone, and quietly submitted to their fate.