The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Starboard it is,” was the answer, and presently what looked like a hen-coop and a grating with a few spars lashed together, came in sight, and an object, evidently a human being, lying on it, but whether alive or dead could not at once be ascertained. Presently, however, as the ship was abreast of the raft, a man rose on his knees and waved his hand, while he shouted out, “Ship, ahoy!” His voice sounded hollow and shrill; he apparently supposed that he had not been seen. Tom immediately ordered the engines to be stopped, and a boat to be lowered, but before this was done she had got a considerable distance from the raft. Another cry escaped the forlorn occupant of the raft, as if he fancied he was to be left to his fate. Tom hailed him, telling him that assistance would be sent. In a few minutes a boat was pulling as fast as the crew, with sturdy strokes—eager to rescue a fellow-creature—could drive her through the water. Alick had jumped into the boat, which he steered carefully up to the raft. No voice was heard as they approached. The poor man, overcome with the thought that he had been deserted, had apparently fainted or sunk down again from weakness. At first Alick thought that he was not there, but his form was seen stretched out at full length on the frail raft.

“Look out not to capsize it!” sang out Alick to his men, two of whom were about to spring on the raft. “Let one at a time get on it, and lift the man carefully into the boat.”

His orders were obeyed, the man was got on board and passed along to the stern sheets, where he was laid with his head on a flag, which happened to be in the boat. Alick pulled back as hard as possible, that the stranger might be placed under charge of the doctor. The poor man breathed, and that was all. Alick was afraid that he might go off unless speedily attended to, for the boat had come away without brandy or any other restorative.

The rescued man was handed on deck with all the tenderness with which sailors are wont to treat the sick and wounded, or women and children. The doctor was immediately roused up to do what he considered necessary.

The stranger seemed by his dress to be an officer, although, whether officer or man, he would have been looked after with the same care. Tom had him at once carried to his cabin, where the doctor undressed him.

The various remedies which his case required having been applied, the stranger soon gave signs of returning animation.

“His pulse is improving,” observed the doctor, “and he will do well enough after a time. No one must talk to him, however, when he comes to his senses, or try to learn how he got into the situation in which he was found.”

Tom’s watch being over, and having given up his cabin he was about to roll himself up in his cloak in a corner of the ward room, when the fearful cry of “Fire! fire!” was raised. He hurried on deck, where Jack and all the officers and crew quickly assembled. The drum beat to quarters. The men flew to their stations. The soldiers, who well knew the meaning of the tattoo, hastened on deck and fell in, according to their officers’ orders, on either side.

During that moment of awful suspense, strict discipline prevailed. The last persons to appear were the major and Mrs Bubsby and their two tall daughters. The former, with a blanket thrown over his head, making him look very much like a young polar bear, and the lady in her nightcap, with a bonnet secured by a red woollen shawl fastened under her chin, while the costume of the young ladies showed also that they had hurriedly dressed themselves, and in a way they would not have wished to have appeared in, under ordinary circumstances, one having her papa’s military cloak tied round her waist, while the other had a railway rug, of large size, covering her shoulders and hanging down behind.

“What’s the matter? what’s the matter?” asked the major, in a tone of agitation.