“If Sir Charles is at all like what he was a few years ago, I hope you may,” answered the admiral; “but though Charley is some years my junior, I should have declined ten years ago accepting such a command. He may be tough enough, but the sort of work he has to do wants nerve, and that, as a man advances in life, is apt to slacken.”
Still, notwithstanding Admiral Triton, the prognostications of Adair were shared in by all in the fleet, as well as by the nation at large, and grand results were expected. The admiral had engaged one of the steamers plying between Ryde and Portsmouth to come alongside and take his party on shore. Poor Lucy, it was very trying to her, though Mrs Murray from experience could give her heartfelt sympathy. Alick had already sailed for the Black Sea, and Jack some weeks previously had proceeded in the same direction.
We will make our way on board the Tornado. She had a quick passage under sail and steam to Malta, where she lay taking in a fresh supply of coals, and thence proceeded on through the Aegean Sea up the Bosphorus. Jack recognised with no small amount of pleasure many of the islands he had visited as a youngster; he had then thought them very beautiful, and he acknowledged that they were so still, though the proportions of the scenery appeared lessened in his eyes after the grander features of the West Indies and South America.
Tom and Desmond were inclined to turn up their noses at them, not having any great respect for the surrounding classical associations. “Very pretty hills to adorn the surface of a moderate-sized lake,” observed Tom, “but Trinidad and Jamaica completely take the shine out of them.” Higson, whom Jack had obtained as his first lieutenant, was much of the same opinion. Mildmay, who had been appointed by the Admiralty, not having seen the West Indies, was in raptures, and, with notebook in hand, stood dotting down the lines inspired by his muse. Jos Green, the master, suggested that he would be better employed in making outlines of the headlands and other prominent features of the land.
“Very well for you, master, who have to navigate the ship, but we are above such grovelling notions,” answered Mildmay; “you have nothing Byronic in your composition.”
“Just take care when it’s your watch that you don’t run the ship ashore in a fit of poetical abstraction,” said Green, laughing; “your Byronic enthusiasm would not be received as a valid excuse at a court-martial.”
Besides the officers named, Jack had several of his own and Murray’s old shipmates—Dick Needham as gunner, Ben Snatchblock as boatswain, with the two midshipmen, Dicky Duff and Billy Blueblazes; Jerry Bird; the Irishman, Tim Nolan; and several others, all good men and true.
With patriotic pride Jack saw the magnificent fleet under Admiral Dundas lying at anchor in Cavarna Bay as the Tornado steamed into that roadstead. It lies on the western side of the Black Sea, a little to the north of Varna. There lay the Britannia and Trafalgar, of 120 guns, the admiral’s flag flying at the masthead of the first; the Queen, of 116 guns; the Agamemnon, a name renowned in naval story, of 101 guns, carrying the flag of Rear-Admiral Sir Edmund Lyons; the Albion, of 91 guns; the Rodney and London, of 90; the Vengeance, Bellerophon, and Sanspareil, of 84, 80, and 70 guns respectively; the Arethusa, of 50 guns, twice the size of her predecessor, known in song as the “gallant Arethusa;” and numerous other frigates and steamers, the smallest equal in power to any frigate of the olden times. There too lay the French fleet, fifty sail of the line and twenty-one frigates and smaller vessels, with the flag of Admiral Hamelin flying on board the Ville-de-Paris, of 120 guns, and that of the second in command, Admiral Bruat, on board the Montebello, of the same force. What might not these fleets accomplish if only the Russians would dare to sail out from amid their stone walls and fight? There was the rub.
Jack, having paid his respects to the admiral, made his way on board the Briton, accompanied by Archie, whom he knew Murray would be glad to see. Jack, of course, brought despatches from Stella. “Now, Alick,” he said, after the first greetings were over, “you read those quietly, while Gordon and I look up some of our old shipmates whom you have on board.”
Jack was not disappointed, for though he could not boast of having as many friends as Jos Green, he seldom went anywhere without finding some former shipmates. All were in high spirits at the thoughts of active service, though as yet nothing of importance had been done. A very gallant act, however, had been performed, of which Jack now heard. It was very important to gain exact information as to the present state of the harbour of Sebastopol and the forts protecting it, for there was every reason to believe considerable alterations had of late been made. As soon as the news of the massacre of Sinope had reached England, the Government sent out orders to the admirals to enter the Black Sea, to stop every Russian ship they met, and to prevent by force, if necessary, any fresh aggression on the Turkish flag, that no repetition of such atrocity might occur. As war had not yet been formally declared, it was necessary to inform the Cabinet of Saint Petersburg and the Governor of Sebastopol of this resolution. Captain Drummond, commanding the Retribution, a steamer of twenty-eight guns, was accordingly ordered to proceed to Sebastopol, and to deliver the despatches to the governor. In order to make the necessary survey, he was to remain there as long as he possibly could without allowing his design to be suspected by the Russians. It was the middle of winter; the weather, as is generally the case at that time of the year, was very thick. This was favourable to the design. As he had a good chart of the coast, he stood boldly on, keeping the lead going, till he made his way between the two outermost forts into the mouth of the harbour, when he came to an anchor before he was discovered by the Russians. Great must have been their astonishment at seeing an English frigate thus boldly bearding them.