“Here, boy,” he cried out, in spite of the growls of some of the press-gang near him, “there’s a golden guinea for you if you’ll get aboard the Amity, tell Captain Mudge that his mate, Ralph Michelmore, has been pressed, and ask him to bring my protection, which he will find in my jacket pocket, on board the Falcon. She sails to-morrow early, so there is no time to be lost; or, if you can get off at once—and you shall have thirty shillings if you do—he may overtake us before we reach the boats.”
“Trust me, mate,” answered the lad, a sharp young mud-larker. “I should just like the feel of a little earnest-money, though, to show that I am not being sent on a fool’s errand.”
The seamen laughed, and told the boy that such was very likely to be the case. Ralph, however, found a crown piece in his pocket.
“Here, my lad,” he said, giving it to the boy; “notwithstanding what they say, I will trust you. What’s your name, that I may know you again?”
“I’m sometimes called Peter Puddle, and sometimes Muddy Legs, and all sorts of names, for that matter; but I’m no ways particular.”
“Well then, Peter Puddle, be smart about it, and gain the rest of your reward,” said Ralph.
The lad, with a shout of delight, taking the money, ran off, and Ralph was left in doubt whether or not he would fulfil his commission.
The sailors laughed even more than before. “It’s easy to see who’s the fool now,” observed one of them.
The attention of the party was, however, quickly recalled to what was going forward in the harbour. The boat before seen could be discerned dimly in the distance through the gloom, and from the same direction there came the sound of oars splashing, or people struggling in the water, and loud cries and shouts mingled with fierce oaths, while now a piercing cry rang through the night air. Some of the press-gang were eager to jump in and swim to their shipmates’ assistance, but the officer forbade them, ordering three or four to make another search for a boat. At length the sounds of struggling ceased, but which party had been defeated it was impossible to ascertain.
The sound of oars in the water was now heard, and a boat was observed slowly approaching the shore. She reached at length the jetty near which the man-of-war’s men were standing. Some of them went down to meet her, and a shout proclaimed that their shipmates had returned, though without a prisoner. The two men were lifted out of the boat, not having strength to walk. Their arms and shoulders were fearfully battered and bruised, and the head of one of them was cut open. They had reached the boat, when they were attacked by the men in her with oars and stretchers, and they would have been drowned had they not got hold of the gunwale, and, in spite of opposition, clambered on board, and, after a desperate struggle, turned the occupants out, just at the moment that another boat came up. The men, they believed, had been taken on board her, as had, they supposed, the escaped prisoner; and, at all events, she had made off and got out of sight.