Ben, pulling a lock of his hair, obeyed the captain’s orders, and went forward, exhibiting very little trace of the lawless, vaunting smuggler he had appeared to Dick on board the Nancy.
“And now, Richard Hargrave,” said the captain, addressing Dick, “you made a bad commencement by committing a grave crime, but you have shown that you are capable of performing your duty well and gallantly. Your late conduct atones in a great measure for your previous behaviour; and as you know what your duty is, I would urge you to perform it, in spite of the bad example or advice of such associates as may try to lead you into evil. Remember that the eyes of the officers will be upon you, and I shall be glad to hear a favourable report of your conduct.”
Dick, grateful to the captain for pardoning him, and especially for the last encouraging words which he had spoken, could with difficulty refrain from bursting into tears. His breast heaved, a choking sensation came into his throat, and he was unable to utter a word beyond “Thank you, sir; thank you, sir;” and making the usual salute, he turned round and hurried below.
Chapter Ten.
An East Indian convoy—Toady Voules turns nurse—Fair run to the Cape—Fear of privateers—Carelessness—A strange signal—Midnight attack—Timely assistance—Treachery—Lord Reginald in command of the prize—Treatment of the Maria’s crew—Discontent—A stern chase is a long chase—Obstinacy of the young lord—Voules’s advice neglected—A calm—Bursting of the hurricane—Wreck of the privateer—Washed ashore.
A few days after Lord Reginald Oswald and Richard Hargrave returned on board the Wolf, she went out of harbour and came to an anchor in Cawsand Bay, where she, with another frigate, surrounded by a fleet of merchantmen which they were to convoy to the East Indies, lay waiting for a fair wind.
Dick had never seen so many ships together. To his eyes they presented a grand sight, as with colours flying and sails loosened from the yards, they were prepared to obey the signal for getting under way. He felt proud of belonging to one of the ships which had charge of so many fine vessels, many of them capable, it seemed to him, of coping with even the enemy’s men-of-war. The wind suddenly came round to the northward. The Wolf fired the signal gun, the anchor was hove up, her canvas was let fall and sheeted home, and she glided out of the Sound, followed in rapid succession by the merchant vessels; the Ione, the other frigate, bringing up the rear and acting as whipper-in to the fleet, which, as they spread out on their course down the British Channel, with their snowy canvas extended below and aloft, seemed increased in number. The signal midshipmen had work enough to do in watching the merchant vessels, and in hoisting and hauling down the bunting as the requisite signals were made, while both frigates were continually firing their guns to hasten on the laggards, or to make the faster sailing ships shorten sail.
Rapid voyages were not expected to be made in those days, for the more nimble-heeled had to wait for the slower-sailing craft, while the men-of-war had to keep the whole of the vessels under their charge in sight, and as close together as circumstances would allow.