The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Two of her oars had been lost alongside the burning brig, and another had been sprung; and had not assistance come, the boat and all on board would in another minute to a certainty have been engulfed. As Jack made his way back to the brig he was received with loud cheers from the corvette and prize.

He was thankful when he at length reached the deck of the Supplejack, feeling that he ought to punish the two youngsters for their misconduct, though very unwilling to do so. He contented himself with giving them a severe lecture, and pointing out to them the fearful risk they had run of losing their lives.

“When duty calls you, it is quite a different matter,” he observed: “then never be daunted by danger. Your duty was to remain on board. Had you been lost I should have had double cause to mourn for you, as you would have uselessly thrown your lives away.”

“That’s just what Admiral Triton said to me,” observed Tom to Desmond. “Jack is right—no doubt about that.”

By this time the tide had sufficiently risen to allow a passage over the bar, and Murray being unwilling to lose a favourable wind by a longer delay, the anchors were hove up, sail was made, and the two men-of-war, with the captured slaver, leaving the fort astern, dashed proudly out to sea. They had, however, to keep their pumps going, in consequence of the large amount of water which had rushed into them before the shot-holes they had received could be thoroughly plugged. Murray then gave Higson directions to carry the slaver to Saint Helena, and, after delivering her up, to return to Rio by the first opportunity.

The midshipmen were sorry to lose him, for he never forgot that he had been their messmate, and, notwithstanding his few eccentricities, he was always kind and considerate.

While he steered to the eastward, the corvette and brig shaped a course for Rio. The result of the expedition had been the destruction of three noted slavers, and the capture of a fourth, while their owners had learnt an important lesson, that the risks of the trade in which they were engaged were considerably increased, and that it might possibly be wiser to abandon it.

Next night, during Adair’s watch, a pampeiro, a squall off the Pampas so called, suddenly struck the ship; the boatswain’s shrill whistle summoned all hands to shorten sail; happily, the tacks and sheets were let fly before its full force was felt.

Ned Somers, a foretop-man, on the lee yardarm, with the earring in hand, was struck by the wild, flapping sail, and overboard he fell. Murray, who had now come on deck, saw the accident, and the instant the ship could be brought to the wind, ordering a boat to be lowered, he cried out for volunteers to man her. Adair sprang into her, and Snatchblock took the bow oar. Other hands followed. The man’s cries directed them, as they believed, towards where he was floating. Away the boat dashed through the foaming waters, but when they reached the spot the man was nowhere to be seen. They pulled round and round it, shouting to him, but no answer came. Unwillingly, at length Adair put the boat’s head towards the ship. The men had not pulled many strokes when Snatchblock felt a blow on the bow of the boat, and by a sudden impulse (there was no time for thought) stretching himself over the gunwale, he plunged down his arm and got hold of the missing man, whom eager hands assisted him to haul on board. Somers was immediately passed aft, and, as fast as the crew could pull, the boat returned to the ship.

The man, who still breathed, was hoisted on deck, and placed under the surgeon’s hands.