The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“But I am eager, Desmond, to know how you reached this said ‘small kingdom’ of yours,” said Green.

“I’ll tell you all about it as we pull off,” answered Gerald, “though I am anxious to see my uncle’s honest face again and to learn how things have gone on at home—whether any other claimant has taken possession of my title and estate. Poor fellow! he won’t bless this island, whatever you do, for having afforded me shelter, though it may be a mighty long time before I get back to old Ireland to disappoint him and to delight the heart of our old friend, Counsellor McMahon, who will be fancying that all his toil and trouble have been thrown away, while his purse too will have suffered not a little. I have often wished that I possessed the means of tranquillising his mind on that point.”

“From what Captain Adair has said, I don’t think the counsellor has ever given up the idea of your safety,” answered the master, “but you will hear all about it very soon.”

This conversation took place as the boat was returning to the ship, after Desmond had exchanged greetings with the first lieutenant.

“Well,” exclaimed Jos, “‘it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,’ and although I’m sorry enough to lose the ship, yet finding you goes a long way towards reconciling me to her fate, especially as I have not to pay for her.”

Adair expressed himself in somewhat similar language on seeing his nephew, Saint Maur.

“I was sure that you would turn up one day or other, Gerald,” he said, “and so was the counsellor, and I don’t mind the court-martial and all the bother I shall have to go through, now that I have found you. Although I am anxious enough to hear how you came here, I have too much to do just now to listen to you.”

Such, indeed, was the case. Before an attempt could be made to carry the ship over the bar, everything possible must be got out of her. The boats were immediately lowered and loaded with provisions and canvas for forming tents. All hands worked away with a will, young Lord Saint Maur turning to with as much energy as the rest, officers and men pulling and hauling away at the ropes. To land the stores more rapidly, Adair directed the carpenter to construct several rafts, which would be serviceable as long as the sea continued smooth, but which would be most untrustworthy should it come on to blow.

Lord Saint Maur gave the satisfactory intelligence that he had found three large boats on the island, which had apparently been left by a party who had been there for the purpose of catching whales, but for some reason or other had gone without having had time to remove them. He considered that they could be quickly repaired. He accordingly, accompanied by the carpenter’s crew, returned on shore, and soon after mid-day, he and the men sent to assist him brought them off. They were soon loaded and on their way back to the shore. Not a moment was lost. The marines were at once landed to help unload the boats and carry the cargoes to the spot selected for the proposed encampment on the right side of the entrance, where there was a level space of some size at no great distance above the water. Desmond’s companion, Rip Van Winkle, had, in the mean time, brought in a couple of goats, which he had killed and prepared for the refreshment of the boats’ crews. No one, however, had time to do more than “fist” a piece and run back with it to the boat.

Not until it became too dark to see the entrance did the boats cease plying backwards and forwards, and even then the crew on board were engaged in hoisting up articles of all sorts from the hold, to be discharged at daybreak. The night was calm, and every hope was entertained that the next day a large portion of stores and provisions might be landed, as well as the ammunition and some of the guns. A careful watch was kept, but the greater portion of the officers and crew turned in to obtain that rest they so much needed. Those not actually on the look-out were engaged in pumping as before, for although the water ran in less furiously than at first, it would very soon otherwise have gained its previous ascendancy. Strange that men should sleep so soundly in a sinking ship, for sinking she was, slowly though gradually, and any relaxation of the efforts necessary to keep her afloat would have proved their doom. Several times during the night Captain Adair turned out, too anxious to sleep soundly. As morning approached, he feared, from the appearance of the sky, that the weather would change. His nephew, who had slept on board, joined him.