The Three Midshipmen

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Terence tried to explain, but everything he said only made matters worse. Happily, Mr Gale was a very kind, judicious man, and soon comprehended that the midshipmen had acted through ignorance and thoughtlessness.

“Had you reached Corfu with your so-called prize, you might have been brought into serious trouble,” he remarked. “As no great harm has hitherto taken place, perhaps we may induce the Greek master and his crew not to make any complaint. I will see what can be done.”

“Oh, yes, sir,” exclaimed Alick Murray; “if we can bribe him off I shall be glad to pay any sum you think necessary. Fortunately, I have the means at my disposal;” and he put a purse into Mr Gale’s hand. “Don’t say a word about it, my dear fellows,” he added, as Terence and Jack were expostulating with him for spending so much money on their account. “As we have done the harm, we must stand the blame, you know,” they said.

Mr Gale had long been accustomed to the Greeks, and spoke their language fluently; and having first frightened the master by proving to him that his detention was his own fault, because he had not explained that he was an honest trader, in order to show the good feeling of the English, he promised forthwith to liberate him. The Greek was profuse in his thanks, especially when the lieutenant, to exhibit the magnanimity of his captors, presented him with a bottle of rum and a few piastres.

Perfectly satisfied with this turn in the state of affairs, the Greeks were voluble in their expression of gratitude, and waving their hands, pressed them to their hearts, as the two boats pulled away for the corvette. Captain Hartland, her commander, soon after they came on board, gave the two midshipmen a severe lecture for their behaviour, and telling them to make the best of their way back to Corfu, advised them not to boast too loudly of their exploit. Alick, who was decidedly a favourite, had, they found in the meantime, contrived to plead their cause. They followed Captain Hartland’s advice, but they felt very crestfallen and sheepish for some days after they got back to their own ship. The story, however, leaked out in time, and Terence and Jack had, of course, to stand a good deal of quizzing on the subject. At last, a Paddy’s Prize became a cant saying on board, when anybody had taken anything to which he had no right.

Several months passed away—the winter came on. The Racer met with a severe gale, in which she was partially dismasted, and received so much damage that she had to put into Valetta harbour to repair. She found the Firefly there, and as Captain Hartland had the character of being very attentive to the instruction of his midshipmen in seamanship, Captain Lascelles got him to take Terence and Jack with him for a cruise while the frigate was refitting. Nothing loath, they transferred themselves, with their chests, on board the corvette, and once more the three schoolfellows were together. They found the life on board the corvette very different to that of the frigate. Their hands were constantly in the tar-bucket and paint-pot. They were for ever employed in knotting and splicing, and in rigging and unrigging a model ship, which had been made on purpose to instruct them. All the midshipmen of the brig were compelled to man the mizen-mast, and to take it completely under their charge. This system very much increased the knowledge of the practical details of seamanship, which it is important every officer should know. A good officer is thoroughly acquainted in the most minute particular with everything men are required to know, and a great deal more. This remark refers not only to the Navy, but to the Army, and to every other calling in life. The Firefly was a very happy ship; for though no one was allowed to be idle, the captain was kind and just, and took care that each person should do his duty; so that the work to be done was equally divided among all hands.

On quitting Malta she sailed for the eastward, and was for some time kept cruising among the Ionian Islands, and on the coast of Greece, carrying despatches from place to place. The wind had been from the northward, and the ship had been kept somewhat close in with the Greek coast, to shorten the distance to be run from one spot to another, when one of those severe gales, which in the winter season in the Mediterranean sometimes spring up suddenly, came on to blow. The corvette was caught on a lee shore and embayed. It was night. All hands were called. The fury of the gale increased. Sail was taken off the ship, but still it was necessary to carry far more than would have been set under other circumstances, that she might, if possible, beat out of the bay. She was pressed down till the hammock-nettings were almost under water. Still her masts stood, but no one could predict how long they could bear the terrific strain put upon them. Darker and darker grew the night; the vivid flashes of lightning very now and then revealing the countenances of the officers and crew, as they strained their eyes in their endeavours to discover through the darkness how far off was the much-dreaded shore. The three midshipmen stood together, holding on to the weather bulwarks with some of the gun-room officers. Others were at their stations in different parts of the ship. The lightning showed that the cheeks of the oldest were pale. They full well knew the terrific danger in which the ship was placed. The captain stood calm and collected, conning the ship, and ready to take advantage of any shift of wind which might enable her to get a point off the shore. No one moved—no one spoke—the howling of the gale and the dashing of the waters were the only sounds heard. Suddenly all were aroused into activity by the deep full tones of the captain’s voice. “About ship!” “Down with the helm!” “Helm’s a-lee!” “Maintopsail haul!” “Haul-of-all!” were the orders given in slow succession. Round came the ship in noble style, but it was soon clear that she had gained nothing by the change. Her course did not point more off shore on her present tack than it had done on the former one. No land could be seen, but men were stationed in the chains with the lead to give notice of their approach to it. It was soon evident that the ship was drifting nearer and nearer to the shore, the rocky and dangerous character of which every one on board full well knew, yet each was prepared to struggle to the last to do his duty, whatever might befall them.

“What’s going to happen?” asked Paddy. “People don’t seem to like this fun.”

“We shall have to swim for it, I suspect,” remarked Jack.

“We must be prepared for the worst,” observed Alick Murray. “Rogers, Adair, has it ever struck you that we maybe summoned at any moment to stand in the presence of the Judge of all men? What shall we have to say for ourselves? The thought should not make us cowards, but we should not drive it away—I know that.”