Chapter 3

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_ CHAPTER THREE.

After I had taken Macquoid's nauseous draught, I went and lay down on my chest. I chose that spot because, from the uncomfortable position in which I was obliged to place myself, I was not likely to go to sleep, and because I was there better able to hear when the boats' crews were called away. I could not help now and then giving way to a groan, which the sickness and pain of the physic produced.

"Who's that?" I heard old Perigal inquire, as he was passing to the berth.

"Oh, it's only that little sneak Merry," Spellman answered. "He thinks that he may be ordered off in the boat, and is shamming sick to escape, as if such a hop-o'-my-thumb as he is could be of any use."

"That is not like him. I consider him a very plucky little fellow," remarked Perigal.

"Thank you, old boy," I said mentally. "And you, Miss Susan, I'll be even with you some day for your obliging remarks."

I cannot say, however, that I felt any enmity towards Spellman on that account. I had not respect enough for him. I would rather, however, have parted with more kindly feelings towards all my messmates on so dangerous an expedition. I could not help thinking over the matter while lying so long silent by myself, but my resolution to accomplish my design was not shaken. My messmates went into the berth, and just then I heard the boats piped away. I ran quickly upon deck, and, while the men were buckling on their cutlasses, I slipped into the pinnace, and stowed myself, as before, into so small a space that even the boatswain, who looked into the boat, did not perceive me. I knew that he looked for me, because I heard his gruff voice say, "All right; he's not there. He's thought better of it." At about half-past nine the final order to shove off was given, and away we went. I got fewer kicks this time, for I took good care to keep my legs out of the way. The men, also, I suspect, guessed that I was there. I knew that I was perfectly safe with them.

The flotilla consisted of fifteen boats, containing nearly three hundred officers and men, not counting myself. After we had got, as I supposed, about a couple of miles from the ship, and I knew that I could not be sent back, I ventured to crawl out and look over the gunnel. The inky sea around us was dotted with boats, all the party keeping pretty close together. The night was so dark that I could see little more than their outlines, as they crept rapidly along, like many-footed monsters, over the deep. I did not fancy that Mr Johnson knew I was there, but his sharp eyes made me out through the gloom.

"Mr Merry, step aft, if you please, sir," he bawled out suddenly.

Stepping over the oars, I went and sat myself down by him, but said nothing.

"Mr Merry, this conduct is highly reprehensible. I must report it to the captain as soon as we get back, after we have carried and brought out that French corvette, and covered ourselves with honour and glory; and I don't know what he'll say to you. And now, sir, after, as in duty bound, from being your superior officer, I have expressed my opinions, I should like to know what you are going to do when we get alongside the enemy?"

"Climb up with the rest, and fight the Frenchmen," I replied promptly.

"Very good, Mr Merry; but suppose one of the Frenchmen was to give you a poke in the ribs with a boarding-pike, or a shot through the chest, or a slash with a cutlass, what would you do then?"

"Grin and bear it, I suppose, like anybody else," was my answer.

"Very good, very good, indeed, Mr Merry," said the boatswain, well-pleased; "that's the spirit I like, and expected to find in you. Now, my boy, whatever you do, stick by me; I'll do my best for you. If I get knocked over, and there's no saying what will happen in desperate work like this, then keep close to Edkins. He's a good swordsman, and won't let you be hurt if he can help it. I should be sorry if any harm came to you. But, Mr Merry, how are you going to fight? I don't see that you have got a sword, and I fancy that you'll not do much execution with one of the ship's cutlasses."

I told him that I had got my dirk, and that I hoped to make good use of that.

He laughed heartily.

"A tailor's bodkin would be of as much use in boarding," he answered; "but you shall have one of my pistols; the chances are that I do not require either of them. Cold steel suits me best."

I thanked Mr Johnson warmly, and then asked him what orders had been received about attacking. He told me that some of the boats were to board on the bows, and others on the quarters of the corvette; that a quarter-master of the Beaulieu, with a party of men to protect him, was to take charge of the helm; that others were to fight their way aloft, to let fall the topsails; and that he, with his men and another boat's crew, was to hold possession of the forecastle, and to cut the cables. All this was to be done in spite of any fighting which might be taking place. Some were to sheet home the topsails, and the remainder were to do their best to overpower the enemy. We had got some way, when we caught sight of a strange boat inside of us.

The commander of the expedition, supposing that she belonged to the Chevrette, summoning five other boats to attend him, made chase to secure her, ordering his second in command to pull slowly on till he rejoined the expedition. On we went. As to pulling slow, that was a very difficult thing to do just then. So eager were the men, that they couldn't help putting more strength into their strokes than they intended. All I know is that the nine remaining boats got close up to the harbour's mouth, and that the others had not joined. We lay on our oars, as ordered, for a short time.

"What can have become of them?" exclaimed a lieutenant in one of the boats.

"Daylight will be upon us if we don't look sharp," said another.

"It would be a disgrace to go back without attempting something," cried a third.

"We will lose no more time, but try what we can do without them," said the senior officer of the party. He was undoubtedly very eager to lead on the occasion. Certain necessary alterations were made.

"Gentlemen, you all know your respective duties," he added. "Then give way!"

Right cheerfully the men bent to their oars, and up the harbour we dashed. I kept looking ahead for the enemy. I knew that as soon as we saw her, she would see us, and then the fun would begin. I felt rather nervous, but very eager.

"There she is," cried the boatswain.

Suddenly through the gloom, I saw the tall masts and spars of the ship we were to attack. A voice from her hailed us in French. Of course our only reply was a hearty cheer, and on we dashed faster than ever. Not unmolested though. The next moment, sheets of flame darted from the ports, from one end of the ship to the other, and showers of grape and bullets rattled about our heads. A groan, or a cry of anguish from some of the boats, told that the emissaries of destruction had taken effect. Thick fell the shot, and the next instant a heavy fire opened on us from the shore; but nothing stopped our progress. On we dashed, and were quickly alongside the enemy. The whole side bristled with boarding-pikes, and as we attempted to climb up, muskets and pistols were discharged in our faces, and tomahawks and sabres came slashing down on our heads. Our men cheered and grasped hold of the ship's sides, but again and again were thrust back, and then the Frenchmen leaped into our boats, making a dashing effort to drive us out of them. They had better have remained on their own deck, for very few got back. Some did though, and formed shields to our men, who climbed up after them. Meantime, our boat had boarded, as directed, on the starboard bow, but finding it hopeless to get up there, Mr Johnson dropped astern, and perceiving only one boat on the quarter, and space for us to shove in, we hooked on, and the next instant were scrambling up the side. I kept close to the boatswain. I thought that we were about to gain the deck, when the enemy made a rush towards us, and over we went, and I was left clinging to the side, with a dozen sabres flashing above my head. As to letting go, I never thought of that. I kept Mr Johnson's pistol in my right hand, and was about to fire, when down came a sword, which would have clove my head in two, had not a lieutenant of marines in the next boat interposed his own weapon, and saved me. But the act was one of self-devotion, for the Frenchman brought his sabre down on my preserver's arm, while another thrust a pike through his body, and hurled him back, mortally wounded, to the bottom of the boat. I should, after all, have shared the same fate, had not Mr Johnson at that instant recovered himself, and with a shout, loud enough to make our enemies quake, up he sprang, and, with one whirl of his cutlass, drove the Frenchmen from the side. Over the bulwarks he leaped; I and most of the men from the two boats followed. But though we had gained the deck, there seemed but little chance of our forcing our way forward.

Our men, in the first desperate struggle alongside, had lost their firearms, and for a few seconds the tall figure of the boatswain, as he stood up facing the enemy, offered a mark to a score of muskets aimed at him. The Frenchmen, expecting to see him fall, came on boldly. I grasped his pistol, hoping to avenge him.

"The forecastle is our station, lads," he shouted, and his stentorian voice was heard above the din of battle.

"Make a lane, there; make a lane, there," he added, dashing furiously among the enemy. I followed by his side. His whirling cutlass flashed round, and sent the Frenchmen flying on either side. On we went, intent on our object, bearing down all opposition, to gain the forecastle, while another party had got possession of the helm. The deck was by this time covered with killed and wounded. Many of our men had fallen. We strode over friend and foe alike, alive or dead. The break of the topgallant forecastle was gained. It was desperately defended, but the boatswain, clearing with a sweep of his cutlass a spot to stand on, sprang up among the astonished Frenchmen. I felt myself lifted up after him; our men followed; and though pikes were thrust at us, and pistols were flashed in our faces for a few seconds, our opponents either leaped overboard or threw themselves on the deck, and sang out for quarter. Some of our men, appointed for the purpose, went to the head sails, while others instantly cut the cable. I glanced my eye upwards; the topmen, who had fought their way aloft, had cut loose the topsails with their cutlasses, and they were now being sheeted home; but the fighting was not over, a desperate attempt was being made by the enemy to drive us out of the ship. The boatswain, meantime, was uttering his war shouts, issuing orders to the men, and dealing death and wounds around.

"Old England for ever I hoist the fore-staysail. Back, ye Johnny Crapeaus! Back, ye French scarecrows! Haul away, my lads, and belay all that. Hurra! we've gained the day!"

In the latter assertion he was somewhat premature, for the French crew, now rallying amidships, made a desperate attack on the forecastle, but the boatswain's flashing weapon literally cut them down like corn before the reaper's scythe, as they came on. Still they pressed round us. Most of our men were occupied in making sail.

A big Frenchman, the boatswain of the ship, I fancy, who was almost as big as Jonathan himself, now sprang ahead of his comrades to measure his strength with our champion. He was evidently a first-rate swordsman, and in his progress forward had already cut down two or three of our men. He shouted something to his companions; it was, I suspected, to tell them to try and wound Mr Johnson while he was engaging him in front. I had hitherto grasped the pistol he had given me, but had not fired it. I felt for the lock. On came the Frenchmen; Mr Johnson had need of all his skill to keep his enemies at bay. The French boatswain pressed him desperately hard. One of his mates rushed in, and was bringing down his cutlass with a terrific sweep, which would have half cut our boatswain in two, when, raising my pistol, I fired at the man's head. The bullet went through his brain, and his cutlass, though wounding Johnson slightly in the leg, fell to the deck. The boatswain's weapon meantime was not idle, and at the same moment it descended with a sweep which cut the Frenchman's head nearly in two, and he fell dead among his comrades. It was at that instant the French discovered that their ship was under way. "Sauve qui peut!" was the cry. Some jumped overboard and endeavoured to swim on shore. Many leaped below, either in fear or with determination still to carry on the fight, and others threw down their arms and cried for mercy. Not a cutlass was raised on them after that, but the fellows who fled below had got possession of some muskets, and began firing at all of us who appeared near the hatchways. A party of our men, however, leaped down among them and quickly put a stop to their proceedings.

The ship was now completely under our command; the sails filled, she felt the helm, and was standing down the harbour. Though it appeared to me nearly an hour, if not more, I found that not five minutes had passed since the boats got alongside. But we were not quite free. We were congratulating ourselves on our success, when a shot whistled between our masts, followed by another, and a heavy battery opened upon us. We were too busy to reply to it, and the men went about their work just as coolly as if nothing was occurring. The wind was light, and we were a long time exposed to the fire of the battery. Mr Johnson, between pulling and hauling, for he lent a hand to everybody, apostrophised the masts, and urged them not to get shot away. He evidently thought more of them just then than of anything else. They were in his department.

"I wonder, Mr Johnson, whether any of us will have to change heads?" said I.

"If you and I did, you'd look rather funny with my mug on your shoulders," he answered, with a loud laugh. "Even your own mother wouldn't know you, I suspect." Just then a shower of grape came rattling round us, and though I could hear the shot whistling by, close to my ears, not one of us was hit. I could not help wishing that a breeze would spring up, and carry us clear of the unpleasant neighbourhood. Just then the missing boats arrived, and rather surprised our friends were to find that we had already secured the prize. Though too late to help to take her, they were of great assistance in towing her out of range of the enemy's batteries, and I believe some of the poor fellows in them were hit while so employed. At length a breeze sprang up, and all sail being made, right merrily we glided out of the enemy's harbour, much, undoubtedly, to their disgust, and to our very great satisfaction.

Now came the sad work of counting the killed and wounded. We had lost twelve of the former, two being officers, and nearly five times that number wounded; while we found that the corvette had her captain, three lieutenants, and three midshipmen, and eighty-five seamen and soldiers killed, being ninety-two killed, though only sixty-two were wounded. The deck was a complete shambles: the wounded were carried below, friends and foes alike, though the dead Frenchmen were hove overboard at once. Our own dead, being not so numerous, were kept to be committed to the deep with more ceremony in the morning. Among them was a midshipman. I could not help lifting up the flag which covered his face. Poor fellow, there he lay, stiff and stark! A jovial laughing fellow he had been, cracking his jokes but a few minutes before, just as we were entering the harbour. Such might have been my fate. He had fallen, though in the path of duty. He had been ordered to come. I felt more sad, and was more thoughtful, than I had ever been in my life before. How long I stood there I do not know. Mr Johnson's voice aroused me.

"I haven't had time to speak to you before, Mr Merry," said he. "You did very well,--very well indeed. Jonathan Johnson thanks you from the bottom of his heart; that he does. If it hadn't been for your steady aim, and the unfailing accuracy of my pistol which you fired, I should now be among those lying there, covered with glory;--a very fine thing in theory to be covered with, but, practically, I would rather be alive, and have less of it. However, I mustn't stop talking here. By the bye, there's Mr Bryan has found you out. I will tell him how you have behaved, and I dare say that he'll not get you into trouble, if he can help it."

I thought that would be very kind in Mr Bryan. It did not occur to me that I had done anything to be proud of; nor had I, indeed. I had done what I ought not to have done. I wanted to see some fighting; I had seen it, and just then I felt that I did not want to see any more. The face of that dead midshipman haunted me. I had had a sort of a notion that midshipmen could not be killed, and now I had had proof positive to the contrary. I felt unusually grave and sad. For a long time I could not get the face out of my head. I believe that it contributed to sober me, and to prevent me from being the reckless creature I might otherwise have become.

Day broke as we hove in sight of the squadron, and loud cheers saluted us as we brought up in triumph among them. A prize crew was put in charge of the captured ship, and I returned in the pinnace with the boatswain to the Doris. I was in hopes of getting on board without being observed, but too many eyes were gazing down on us for me to do that. Spellman was, of course, one of the first to discover me.

"What, you there, 'hop o' me?'" he exclaimed; "how did you tumble into the boat?"

"Don't answer him," whispered the boatswain, as we climbed up the side; "I'll let him know what I think of you and him."

I ran down below as fast as I could to change my clothes and wash, for I was dreadfully dirty, covered from head to foot with powder and blood. The first person I encountered was Toby Bluff.

"Oh! Muster Merry, Muster Merry! Be you really and truly alive?" he exclaimed, throwing his arms round my neck, and bursting into tears. "They told me you was gone away to be killed by the Frenchmen, and I never expected to see you more; that I didn't. But is it yourself, squire? You looks awful smoky and bloody loike. Where are all the wounds? You'll be bleeding to death, sure. Let me run for the doctor."

He would have been off like a shot, but I assured him that I was not hurt. After he was satisfied that such was the case, I despatched him to the cook's galley to procure some hot water, with which, and the aid of soap, I managed speedily to get rid of the stains of the fight. By the time I got to rights, breakfast was on the table, and I went into the berth and sat myself down as if nothing had happened. I flattered myself that my messmates looked at me with considerable respect, though they badgered me not a little.

"Where have you been, youngster?" said one. "You'll catch it, my boy!"

"What have you been about, Merry?" asked old Perigal, who was rather annoyed at not having been allowed to go. "Getting most kicks or halfpence, I wonder? but 'duty is duty, and discipline is discipline,' as the master remarks; and you mustn't be playing these pranks, my boy, or you'll get knocked on the head or turned out of the service. Over zeal is not approved of at head-quarters."

I went on eating my breakfast with perfect equanimity, and I very soon found that my messmates were eager to have an account of the expedition, which I was able to give them with tolerable clearness. I was still somewhat uncomfortable as to what the captain would say, and, before long, he sent for me. I went trembling. He received me, however, very kindly, though he was somewhat grave.

"The boatswain speaks in the highest terms of your coolness and courage, and says that you saved his life. I am therefore willing to overlook your infraction of the rules of discipline on this occasion, but remember that, however well you may behave in other respects, you can never make wrong right. In consequence of this, I cannot speak of your bravery in public as I should have liked to do."

This was a good deal for the captain to say, and more, I felt conscious, than I deserved. The officers were very civil to me, and I felt that I had certainly risen in public estimation, and was no longer looked upon as a little boy.

A few days after this Spellman came into the berth in a great rage, stating that he had overheard the boatswain say that Mr Merry was worth his weight in gold, and that he, Spellman, was not worth his in paving-stones. "Listeners never hear any good of themselves," observed one.

"And if you are not worth your weight in paving-stones, I should like to know what you are worth?" asked old Perigal.

"I am much obliged to the boatswain for his good opinion of me," said I. "But he probably was thinking of the saying that London is paved with gold, and meant to say that you were worth your weight in gold paving-stones."

"That may be," answered Spellman, willing to be pacified; "but I cannot say I liked his tone."

On this there was a general laugh. The boatswain's tone was well-known. It was wonderful what withering contempt he could throw into it. The men dreaded it more than they did even his rattan, and that, in his hand, was a somewhat formidable weapon. I remembered his promise when Spellman was quizzing me, on our return from capturing the Chevrette, and I found that he had fulfilled it. I thanked him the next time we met off duty.

"Yes, Mr Merry; I like to serve my friends, and serve out my enemies. Not that poor Mr Spellman is an enemy of yours or mine; but--I say it with all due respect--he is a goose, and I like to baste geese."

I did not repeat to Spellman what Mr Johnson had said of him. I had an intuitive feeling that it was harmful to tell a person what another says of him, except it happens to be something especially pleasant. I believe more ill-blood and mischief is created in that way than in any other.

Soon after this, we sailed on a cruise to the westward, for the purpose of intercepting some of the enemy's homeward-bound merchantmen.

Notwithstanding what I have said of Spellman, I was in reality on very good terms with him. He was continually playing me tricks; but then I paid him off in his own coin. I had, however, made the friendship of another messmate, George Grey by name. He was about my own age and size, and came from Leicestershire, but from a different part of the county to that where my family lived. I liked him, because he was such an honest, upright little fellow. No bullying or persuasion could make him do what he thought wrong. I do not mean to say that he never did anything that was wrong. When he did, it was without reflection. I never knew him to do premeditated harm. We stuck by each other on all occasions; skylarked together, studied navigation together; and when we were together the biggest bully in the mess held us in respect. Mr Johnson liked George Grey as much as he did me.

I had never got the boatswain to commence his history. I told Grey that I was determined to get it out of him, as it was certain to be amusing, though we agreed that we were not bound to believe all he said. He certainly was an extraordinary character. A boaster and a man (I do not like to use a harsh term) who is addicted to saying what is not true, is generally found to be a coward, and often a bully; whereas my worthy friend was as brave as a lion and, gruff as was his voice, as gentle as a lamb, as he used to say of himself, if people would but stroke him the right way; and I can assert a kinder hearted monster never lived. Grey and I, one afternoon when it was our watch below, found him in his cabin. He was taking his after-dinner potation of rum and water, y-clept "grog," and reading by the light of a purser's dip.

"Come in, young gentlemen, come in, and be seated," he sang out; and as we willingly obeyed, he added, "This is what I call enjoyment--food for the mind and moisture for the whistle. We have not many opportunities for mental improvement and the enjoyment of light literature, as you may have discovered by this time; and to a man, like myself, of refined taste, that is one of the greatest drawbacks to our noble profession."

Grey and I did not understand exactly what he meant; but, after letting him run on for a little time, we told him why we had come, and begged him to indulge us by commencing at once.

"There is, as you sagaciously observe, young gentlemen, no time like the present for doing a thing which is to be done; and so,"--and he cleared his throat with a sound which rang along the decks--"I will begin. But remember, now, I'll have no doubting--no cavilling. If you don't choose to believe what I say, you need not listen any more. I will not submit to have my word called in question."

"Heave ahead!" said a voice outside; I suspected it was Spellman's. I soon found that there were several other listeners, and was afraid Jonathan would refuse to go on; but, in reality, he liked to have a large audience, and seasoned his descriptions accordingly. Again he cleared his throat, and said--

"I'll begin--as I remarked. My mother was a wonderful woman. I have a great respect for her memory. Joan of Arc, Queen Dido, or the Roman Daughter could not hold a candle to her. She was up to any thing, and, had opportunities offered, would have been the first woman of her age. As it was, she made herself pretty well-known in the world, as you shall hear. When she was quite a young woman she once on a time became first-lieutenant of a dashing frigate. When the captain was killed, she took the ship into action, fought two line-of-battle ships broadside to broadside, and then, when there was not a stick left standing, carried them by boarding. She would have brought both of them into port, but one went down from the severe hammering she had given them. You doubt what I am telling you, young gentlemen, do you? Well, then, I'll give you proof which ought to satisfy any candid mind that I am speaking the truth. You must know that there is a song written about her; and, of course, if she hadn't done what I have been telling you it wouldn't have been written. It runs thus:--

"Billy Taylor was a smart young sailor,
Full of life and full of glee,
And he went a courting Molly Nailor,
A maiden fair of high degree.

"That maiden fair was my mother. Billy Taylor, do ye see, went a courting her, and swore that he loved her better than the apple of his eye, or a shipload of prize-money, and no end of glasses of grog, and fifty other things, and that her cheeks were like roses from Persia, and her breath sweeter than the essence of all the gales of Araby that ever blew, and all that sort of thing. She believed him, for she was young and tender hearted, and did not know what horrible falsehoods some men can tell. I do hate a fellow who doesn't speak the truth. Now, do ye see, that scoundrel Taylor was only bamboozling her all the time, for he went away and fell in with another lady who had more of the shiners, though less beauty, and he having brought to bear the whole broadside of false oaths he had been firing away at my respected mother, the other lady struck her flag and became his wife. Like other wid blades of his stamp, he soon ran through all the poor girl's money, so he wasn't a bit the better for it, and she was very much the worse. When she had no more left for him to lay his hand on, he had to go to sea again.

"My mother, who was not my mother then, you'll understand, because I wasn't born till some years after that,--and I'm proud to say that my father was a very different man to Billy Taylor. He was an honest man; and when Miss Nailor found out all about Billy Taylor's treachery, she resolved to be avenged on him. He had entered on board the Thunder bomb, and she heard of it. Accordingly she rigged herself out in a suit of seaman's clothes, and as her father was a seaman,--an officer, of course, (my parentage was respectable on both sides)--and she knew all about seamen's ways and sayings, she very easily passed for one.

"One fine morning, off she set in her new toggery for Portsmouth, where the Thunder was fitting out. She had provided herself with a loaded pistol, which she kept in her pocket, vowing to revenge herself on the traitor Taylor.

"As the Thunder was short of hands, the captain was very glad to enter the smart young seaman she seemed to be when she presented herself before him.

"Billy Taylor was aboard, and when she caught sight of his face she had some difficulty in keeping her fingers off it, I believe you. Not that she was otherwise, I'll have you understand, than a mild tempered woman, when she had her own way, but she had received a good deal of provocation, you'll allow. The deceiver didn't know her, and all went on smoothly for some time. She proved herself so smart and active a seaman, (or sea woman,--I should say a mermaid, eh?) that she soon got made captain of the main-top over the head of Billy Taylor and many older hands. How they would have fired up if they had known the truth!

"At last the Thunder sailed down Channel, and my mother began to fancy that all the things she had heard about Taylor might be false, and all her old feeling for him came back. However, as his ill-luck would have it, the ship put into Plymouth Sound, and as she lay there a boat came off from Causand with a lady in it.

"Billy Taylor watched the boat till she came alongside, and when the lady stepped on deck he kissed her lips and folded her in his arms.

"Miss Nailor was standing by. The scene was too much for her.

"'Oh, you foul traitor!' she exclaimed, drawing her pistol just as the lady and the deceiver Billy were walking forward hand in hand. 'Take that!'

"Off went the pistol, and the false lover tumbled over as dead as a herring. The lady, at first, was inclined to go into what the uneducated sailors call high-strikes--you understand, young gentlemen; but she was a strong-minded woman, and when she heard how Billy had been deceiving another girl, she said it served him right, and that she would have nothing more to say to him, dead or alive, and, stepping into her boat, away she went ashore at Causand, where she had come from.

"The captain of the Thunder, when he found out that my mother was a woman, and how she had been treated by Billy Taylor, as the song says, 'very much approved of what she'd done,' and declared that she was a fine spirited girl, (which she certainly had proved herself to be), and that he would make her his first-lieutenant as soon as there was a vacancy. You see they did things differently in those days to what they do now. No one ever hears of a young woman being made first-lieutenant, though it is said there are many old women higher up in the list; but it wouldn't become me, holding the subordinate situation of a boatswain, to credit the fact. The captain very soon had an opportunity of fulfilling his word, for in a very short time the ship went into action, and his next in command being killed, he gave Miss Nailor the death vacancy, and then she became first-lieutenant of the gallant Thunder bomb. However, young gentlemen, I must put a stopper on my jaw-tackle just now. I have had uninvited listeners to my veracious and authentic history, and I hope they have benefited by it."

Mr Johnson placed his finger on the side of his nose, and winked one of his piercing eyes.

"The fact is, I like to indulge in my faculty of invention and amplification, and you may possibly have an idea that I have done so in the account I have given you of my female parent's early adventures. Ho! ho! ho!" and he heaved back, and indulged in a long, low, hoarse laugh, such as a facetious hippopotamus might be supposed to produce on hearing a good pun made by an alligator.

Spellman, and the rest who had been listening out side, on this, beat a retreat, suspecting, probably, that the boatswain had been laughing at them.

Our watch was called, and Grey and I had to go on deck. I had by this time picked up a large amount of miscellaneous nautical knowledge, so had Toby in his way. As to going aloft, or in feats of activity, few of the other midshipmen could beat me. I said that I could swim well. Our father had taught us all at an early age, and I could accomplish the passage across the mill-pond five times and back without resting. Toby, too, after I had saved him from drowning, had learned the art. It was fortunate for us that we had done so.

We had returned unsuccessful from our cruise to the westward, and were somewhere about the chops of the Channel. Night was coming on, and it was blowing very fresh.

"A sail on the lee bow!" shouted the look-out from the mast-head. The wind was south-west, and the frigate was close-hauled, heading towards Ushant.

"What do you make of her? Which way is she standing?" asked Captain Collyer, who was on deck.

"Looks like a lugger, standing up Channel," was the answer.

"Up with the helm, keep her away!" exclaimed the captain.

"All hands make sail."

In an instant the men were hauling on tacks and sheets, braces and bowlines; the yards were squared away, studding sails were set, and off we flew before the wind like an eagle at its prey. The chase kept on before the wind. I had gone up into the fore-top, though I had no business to be there, but it happened to be the station of my particular chum, Grey, and I could enjoy a better sight of the chase from thence than elsewhere.

As the evening advanced, the wind increased, but we were gaining rapidly on the chase, and of course the captain was unwilling to shorten sail. Stays and braces grew tauter and tauter, studden sail-booms cracked, and the topgallant masts bent like willow wands.

"We are going to get it," observed the captain of the top.

He was right. Away flew the main-topgallant studden sail; the topmast studden sail followed. At the same moment, the foremost guns with a loud roar sent a couple of shot after the chase. It was getting dark, but I felt sure that one had struck her counter. Still she held on, and we continued in chase, she carrying as much sail as she could stagger under.

"We shall carry the masts out of the ship if we don't look sharp," observed the captain of the top. The yards cracked more than ever. "All hands shorten sail," cried the captain from the deck. "In with the studden sails!"

When the men went out on the fore-yard, I, to show my activity and daring to my messmate Grey, went out also. The frigate had begun to pitch and roll a little. By some means I lost my hold, and should have fallen on deck and been killed, had she not rolled at the moment to starboard, and sent me flying overboard.

"There goes poor Marmaduke Merry," shouted Grey.

I was plunged under the water, but quickly rose to see the frigate flying by me. As she passed, something was thrown from the deck, and the next instant I observed, I fancied, some one leap from the mizen chains. I did not for a moment suppose that I was going to be drowned, but how I was to be saved I could not divine. I swam on till I got hold of a grating which had been thrown to me, and had not long seated myself on it when I heard a voice sing out--

"All right, Master Marmaduke; I said I'd go wherever you did, but to my mind now it would have been better to have stayed on board."

It was Toby, and after I had helped him up alongside me, I assured him that I agreed with his remark, but that I could not help it. I looked anxiously for the frigate. Her mighty form could only just be distinguished through the gloom, and the lugger could nowhere be seen.

"This isn't pleasant," said I. "But keep up your spirits, Toby, I suppose the frigate will turn to look for us, and if not, we must hold on till the morning, when I hope we may be picked up by some ship or other."

"Ne'er fear, Master Marmaduke," answered Toby. "If you think it's all right, I'm happy."

I certainly did not think it all right, for in a short time it became so dark that we could scarcely see our hands held up before our eyes. As to seeing the frigate, that was out of the question, even if she passed close to us. Happily the gale did not increase, and we were able to hold on to our frail raft. We couldn't talk much. I felt anything but merry. Suddenly the grating received a blow, and I saw a dark object rising up above us. I was thrown against it. It was the side of a vessel. I should have been knocked off the grating had I not found a stout rope in my hand. I drew Toby to me, we both clutched it; the grating slipped from under our feet, and there we were hanging on to the side of a strange craft. We shouted out, and were at once drawn on board, and by the light of a lantern, which was held up to examine us, I found that we were on board a small vessel, and surrounded by Frenchmen. _

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