Chapter 9. The Ouzel Galley Sails For Dublin...

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_ CHAPTER NINE. THE OUZEL GALLEY SAILS FOR DUBLIN--A STRANGE SAIL TO THE SOUTHWARD-- FOLLOWS THE OUZEL GALLEY--THE CHAMPION SENDS MR. FOLEY AND GERALD TO PRESS SOME OF HER MEN--NORAH IN DUBLIN--MR. FOLEY AND GERALD IN COMMAND OF A PRESSGANG--AN ADVENTURE ON THE LIBERTIES--A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER CAPTURED--PRESSED MEN CARRIED OFF--ELLEN AND MR. FERRIS SAIL IN THE OUZEL GALLEY--CAPTAIN TRACY AND NORAH RETURN TO WATERFORD--THE OUZEL GALLEY WITH THE CONVOY BOUND FOR THE WEST INDIES--SHARP ACTION WITH FRENCH FRIGATES--THE ENEMY BEATEN OFF

Norah and Captain Tracy were on board the _Ouzel Galley_ before noon the next day, accompanied by Owen. They had gone round to bid Mrs Massey good-bye; it cost her much to part again so soon with her son, but she was proud of seeing him captain of so fine a ship, and had learnt to bear many trials with fortitude.

As the breeze blew up the harbour, the _Ouzel Galley_ had to beat out, which, with a favourable tide, she succeeded in doing in a few tacks, after which she had a fair wind for Dublin. Dan, coming aft, hat in hand, welcomed Miss Norah, and wished she was going to sail with them the next voyage--Pompey, who presumed on long service with Captain Massey, imitating his example, and making an appropriate speech. Norah thanked them, and, it is just possible, secretly wished that she was to remain on board.

A bright look-out was kept for any sail which might heave in sight; for, though Owen believed that there was no risk of encountering an enemy, it was still possible that a French privateer might be on the watch to pick up any merchant vessel which might come within her grasp. The wind fell, and the _Ouzel Galley_ made but little progress during the night. Whatever others might have done, Norah did not complain; she was in no hurry to have the trip over. Dawn had just broken, when, as a mist which had for some hours hung over the ocean began to clear away, a hand who had been sent aloft shouted out, "A sail to the southward!" Owen, who was on deck, at once went to the mast-head to take a look at the stranger. She was a large ship under all sail, but the mist prevented him from making out very clearly what she was.

"She is bringing up the breeze," observed Captain Massey, when he returned on deck; "but as we shall probably get it before long, we may keep ahead of her."

"We'll try our best to do that same," said the old captain; "it would be hard to be trapped just as we are going into port."

"I should never forgive myself for having allowed you and Norah to come on board," said Owen, feeling much more anxious than he would have done had he been alone.

"Don't trouble yourself about that, lad," answered the captain; "she is more likely to be a British ship than a Frenchman, and she hasn't got up to us yet, nor will she, I trust, before we are safe in the Liffey. I shall be glad, however, when we get the breeze."

They had not long to wait before cat's-paws were seen playing over the surface of the ocean. The sails were trimmed, and the ship began to glide through the water; faster and faster she moved, but the stranger astern still gained on her. Norah soon followed her father on deck, and the rising sun shining on the white canvas of the ship astern revealed her more clearly to view.

"Is that ship chasing us?" she asked, with a little trepidation in her voice.

"She is following in our wake, but she may be a friend for all that," answered Owen, anxious not to alarm Norah. "Should she prove to be a foe, we'll do our best to keep ahead of her. Fortunately, we have a port to run for, and have every chance of gaining it before she comes up with us. See, we have the Wicklow mountains already in sight, and it will not take us many hours to reach Dublin if the wind holds as it does now."

"I quite agree with you, Owen; we have very little cause to fear, go we'll go below and take our breakfasts with good appetite," said the captain, the steward having just announced that the meal was ready.

On returning on deck they could perceive no change in the relative position of the vessels; but as the day drew on the wind dropped, and the stranger appeared to gain on them. Still they made some way, and could distinguish the Round Tower and ruined house on Dalkey Island, off the Wicklow coast, when it fell perfectly calm, and though the Bay of Dublin was almost in sight, they were unable to reach it. The old captain took many a glance through his spy-glass at the ship astern.

"She looks more like an English man-of-war than a Frenchman," he said to Owen; "see what you make of her."

"I agree with you, sir," said Owen. "She is standing after us simply because she is bound to the same port, and if so, we need not trouble ourselves further about her; anyway, we shall be safe at anchor before long, and an enemy would scarcely venture into the bay to cut us out."

Still Owen, not being altogether free from anxiety, walked the deck the greater part of the night, waiting for a breeze. It came at length, towards the end of the middle watch, and as before, astern. He had lost sight of the stranger during the hours of darkness, but when dawn broke, as the _Ouzel Galley_ was off Kingstown, he saw her coming up rapidly not a mile away. With the increasing daylight he made her out, however, to be undoubtedly a British man-of-war.

"No mistake as to that point," observed Captain Tracy, who joined him on deck; "I thought so from the first."

What was their astonishment, therefore, when the corvette fired a gun towards them. The _Ouzel Galley_ still stood on, when the sound of another gun came booming over the calm sea.

"It is the signal to us to heave to. We must obey," said Owen; "though they perhaps think that we are too strong-handed, and wish to press some of our men."

"There's no help for it," observed the old captain; "better at the end of a voyage than the beginning of one, as far as the owners are concerned; but it is a cruel thing for the poor men to be carried away from their families just as they are expecting to get home."

The yards were braced up, and the ship hove to. In a short time the corvette, getting abreast of her, lowered a boat and quickly pulled alongside, with a lieutenant and midshipman in her. As they sprang on deck, the latter came running aft.

"Don't you know me, father?" he exclaimed, as he got up to Captain Tracy.

"What, Gerald, my boy! You've grown so tall and brown that, thinking you away in the West Indies, I didn't till this moment," answered Captain Tracy.

"But I thought it was he," cried Norah, as Gerald bestowed on her a brotherly embrace. He then shook hands with Owen, to whom Lieutenant Foley, who was the other officer, had at first addressed himself; but, seeing Norah, he advanced and paid his respects, inquiring for her friend Miss Ferris.

"She is well, and about to sail for Jamaica on board this vessel," answered Norah. "You will, if you land at Dublin, have an opportunity of seeing her."

"I hope, then, that the _Ouzel Galley_ will form one of the next fleet which we have received orders to convoy to the West Indies," said Lieutenant Foley. "Having been sent home with despatches, we landed at Plymouth, and were on our way round here when we ran out of our course in chase of a strange sail. She, however, escaped us, and we are now bound into Dublin Bay. Are you going to remain on board?" he asked.

"I am afraid not," said Norah; "but I am sure that it will be satisfactory to Mr Ferris to learn that your ship will convoy them. Should I see them before you do, I will tell them so."

Thereon the lieutenant sent several messages to Ellen, which Norah promised to deliver, as duty might possibly delay him from going on shore. He then turned to Owen.

"I was sent to press some of the hands out of your ship," he said, "but if you are about again to sail, I feel authorised to take only those who have not agreed to return with you; and I must beg you to muster your crew."

Whatever might have been the intentions of the men, they one and all agreed to re-enter for the next voyage on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and Owen thus secured an experienced crew instead of the untried hands he might afterwards have picked up.

"It is fortunate that you fell in with us instead of any other man-of-war, or you would have lost your best hands," said Gerald; "and we, I suspect, shall have to send pressgangs on shore to pick up all the fellows we can find. You had better give a hint to your men not to trust themselves out of the ship, for all would be fish who come to our net, they may depend on that."

Gerald had to return with Lieutenant Foley to the _Champion_, while the _Ouzel Galley_, having taken a pilot on board, at once ran up the harbour, when Norah and her father proceeded to Mr Ferris's. The arrival of the _Ouzel Galley_ was hailed with great satisfaction by Mr Ferris; still more so was the news Norah gave Ellen, that the _Champion_ was one of the ships of war appointed to convoy the _Ouzel Galley_ and the other merchant vessels to the West Indies. All diligence was used in discharging her cargo and taking a fresh one on board; and in shorter time than usual, thanks to the assistance rendered by her old captain, she was ready for sea. Owen had the happiness of spending the evenings with Norah, and Ellen was the better able to dispense with her society as Lieutenant Foley managed frequently to get on shore, bringing Gerald with him. Their time, however, was not always passed so agreeably, as they had on several occasions to take charge of the pressgangs sent on shore to pick up men, and more than once they were engaged in pretty severe encounters with the unwilling seamen whom it was their duty to capture.

Mr Foley and the young midshipman were spending the evening at Mr Ferris's, when they were summoned out.

"We must wish you good night," said the lieutenant to Ellen, returning; "we have some duty to attend to, and shall afterwards have to go on board our ship."

The ladies came into the hall, and were somewhat astonished at the garb which the two officers quickly assumed. Over their neat uniforms they put on large Flushing trousers, thick coats of the same material buttoned up to their throats, round which they tied large comforters, while on their heads they wore weather-beaten sou'-westers. A cutlass, buckled on by a leathern belt in which a brace of pistols were stuck, showed that they were about to proceed on an expedition in which rough play might be expected.

"Where are you going?" asked Ellen, in some trepidation.

"Only to obtain a few loyal seamen to serve his Majesty," answered the lieutenant. "The fellows don't know their true interests, and may perhaps offer some opposition; but don't be alarmed--we hope to be on shore to-morrow to give a good account of ourselves."

The lieutenant and midshipman set off under the guidance of the captain's coxswain, a Dublin man, who had come for them. Proceeding to a public-house on one of the lower quays, they found a dozen seamen dressed and armed as they were. The lieutenant having given them directions, they followed him and his guide to that part of Dublin known as the "Liberties," inhabited by the dregs of the population. The night was dark; no lamps illumined that part of the town. The lantern carried by Larry Flynn, the coxswain, enabled the party to thread their way through several narrow streets till they reached a house, at the door of which he stopped.

"This is it, yer honour," said Larry; "but we must be mighty quick, or they'll be after escaping along the tiles."

On this he gave a gentle knock at the door. "Hist! Mother O'Flanigan, open the door, or I'll be taken hold of by the watchmen," he whispered through the keyhole, as he heard a step within.

"Who is it?" asked the voice.

"Shure, it's Dennis Donovan, whom ye'll be after knowing, I'm thinking; but quick, quick, mother dear, or it'll be too late and I'll be caught."

As he spoke the bars were withdrawn, and the lock turned, and the old woman, forgetting her usual caution, slowly opened the door. On this Larry sprang in, and before she had time to shriek out thrust a woollen comforter into her mouth.

"Hold her fast, Bill!" he exclaimed to one of the men who had been directed to guard the door, while the lieutenant and Gerald, with the rest, rushed along a narrow passage, at the end of which another female, a stout, sturdy-looking Amazon, appeared with a light in one hand and a poker in the other.

"Who are ye, ye brutes?" she exclaimed, "coming to disturb a dacent household at this time of night? Shure, the childher are in bed, and ye'll be waking them up and sending them into fits, the darlints."

"It's joking ye are, Misthress Milligan, for divil a child have ye got in the house, barring a score of bhoys with big whiskers on their faces," answered Larry; "so just keep a dacent tongue in your mouth, and be quiet with that poker."

Mrs Milligan, finding that she was known, and as it would be useless to deny that she had guests in the house, shrieked out at the top of her voice, "Run, bhoys, run--the pressgang are on ye!" at the same time attempting, with her formidable weapon, to prevent the seamen from opening the door before which she stood. Larry, however, dashing forward, wrenched it from her hand, and giving her a shove which sent her reeling into the arms of those behind him, burst open the door with his cudgel; and, the harridan having been handed along to those in the rear, the rest of the men followed him into the room. It was an apartment of some size. At one end was a table covered with mugs, a jug or two, and several bottles of large proportions, and surrounded by benches; while at the other end were four beds, each with a couple of occupants, who had endeavoured to conceal their features by the coverlets. Larry pointed to them, and he and his companions springing forward and drawing off the coverlets, brought to view eight fully clad seamen, who, offering no resistance, quietly submitted to their fate; though sundry oaths and throats of vengeance showed that they believed themselves to be the victims of treachery.

"There are more of them stowed away above," exclaimed Larry; and, leaving the room, he sprang up a rickety stair.

"Who comes there?" cried a gruff voice from the top. The speaker had probably been aroused by the noises below. "You'll pay dear for it, whoever you are who attempt to interfere with me."

"Shure, Dick Rowan, your time has come at last to serve his Majesty, threaten and bluster as you like," cried Larry, as he and the rest continued their ascent.

"Take that!" cried the previous speaker, firing a pistol, the bullet whistling near Larry's ear, but striking in the wall behind him. Before he could draw another, Larry and the lieutenant threw themselves upon him, and in spite of his struggles dragged him downstairs. His shouts aroused several other men, who rushed out armed with bludgeons and pistols.

"Come up here at your peril," cried one of them, who appeared at the head of the stair, flourishing his bludgeon and holding a pistol in his left hand.

"It's not such orders from the like of you we've a mind to obey," said Larry, who having handed over the men just taken prisoners, was, with the lieutenant and Gerald, about to ascend the steps. Gerald was struck by the voice, and as Larry threw the light of his lantern before him, he recognised, as he believed, the features of Carnegan, the second mate of the _Ouzel Galley_--or rather O'Harrall, as he has been better known to the reader.

"Seize the ruffian," cried Gerald; "he is an escaped prisoner. I know him!" He sprang up the steps as he spoke, Mr Foley, Larry, and several of the men following.

"Take that for your knowledge, youngster," cried the man, firing his pistol; and finding that it had missed Gerald's head, though by a hair's breadth alone, he lifted his cudgel and would have effectually put an end to his young assailant, had not Larry interposed his cutlass, and, before the man could again raise his weapon, inflicted so severe a wound that he was compelled to drop it. The lieutenant and more seamen coming up threw themselves on him, and in spite of several other people who had come out, he also was secured. The rest retreated into the room, but were pursued before they could make their escape from the windows, which they were attempting to do. One fellow was hauled back just as he had got outside, and in a short time every male inmate of the house was captured.

Rapid as the pressgang had been in their movements, the alarm had been given outside, and a mob was already collecting in the street, evidently with the intention of rescuing the prisoners. There was no time, therefore, to be lost. Mr Foley ordered his men to drag them out and hurry them along, each of the pressgang holding a pistol to the head of his prisoner. Larry had taken charge of the man whom Gerald supposed to be O'Harrall. The ruffian at first waited along quietly enough, but by the way he turned his head he was evidently on the watch for an opportunity of escaping.

"If ye attempt to do it, a bullet will go through yer head, as shure as ye're a living man," cried Larry, in a tone of voice which made the prisoner feel certain that he would be as good as his word. His escape would have been the signal for the rest to attempt breaking loose. Mr Foley and Gerald, with two of the men who had no prisoners to guard, brought up the rear, and had enough to do to keep the rapidly increasing mob at bay. It was mostly composed, however, of women and boys, who shrieked and shouted, and hurled abuse on the heads of the pressgang. By degrees, however, they were joined by several men carrying shillelaghs, but the strict enforcement of the law against the possession of firearms prevented the lower orders in the city from having them. Growing bolder as their numbers increased, and seeing that the pressgang was about to escape from their own especial domain, they made a furious attack on the rearguard, who could only keep them at bay by a free use of their cutlasses, with which several of the assailants were wounded. At length the lesson the mob received made them hold back, though they vented their rage in still louder execrations, howling as an Irish mob alone can howl.

"Not very pleasant work this, Tracy," observed Mr Foley to the midshipman. "However, as we've got thus far, I hope that we may succeed in conveying our prisoners to the boats."

"One of them, at all events, is likely to make further efforts to escape," said Gerald. "He is the very man, if I mistake not, who got out of the King Tower at Waterford, and even if we carry him on board, he is likely to prove a troublesome customer."

"We'll soon bring the most troublesome down to their proper bearings," answered the lieutenant. "If he is a good seaman, he'll answer our purpose."

"We haven't got him safe on board yet, sir, and if these fellows gathering round us show any pluck, we shall have a hard matter to keep him and the rest of the captured men," said Gerald, looking down the street, the few lights in which dimly showed a mass of people rushing forward, the shillelaghs of the men waving wildly above their heads.

"Go on ahead, Tracy, and urge Larry to move faster," said Mr Foley. "Do you keep your eye on his prisoner and see that he doesn't escape."

Gerald obeyed the order, and the seamen did their best to drag forward their captives by threats of blowing out their brains if they did not keep their feet stirring. Gerald was not mistaken as to the object of the crowd, though they had apparently intended to attack the head of his party; seeing them passing, they now came rushing on at greater speed than before.

"Stand back," cried the lieutenant, "or we'll fire; it will be your own fault if any of you are killed."

No regard, however, was paid to his threats. Some of the more daring of the crowd leaped forward, springing now on one side, now on the other, under the idea of escaping the bullets which might be fired at them. The lieutenant and his two men on this had begun to flourish their cutlasses, which in such an affray would be of far more use than pistols, and serve, as before, to keep their assailants from coming to close quarters; still, as they retreated the mob advanced, and every moment threatened to make a rush, when by their superior numbers they must have succeeded in overwhelming the lieutenant and his men and rescuing their prisoners. At this juncture a loud hurrah was heard, and a fresh body of seamen came hurrying along the street. The mob no sooner saw them than the greater number scampered off to a safe distance, where they gave vent to their feelings by uttering the most fearful howls and hurling maledictions on the heads of the pressgang; but the prisoners must have seen that all hope of escape was gone, for they now quietly submitted to their fate, and when they reached the quay stepped, as ordered, into the boats.

The man whom Gerald supposed to be O'Harrall was put into his boat. "We have met before," said Gerald, after they had pulled some little way down the river; "I wonder you don't know me."

"It must have been a long time ago, then, sir, for I haven't the slightest recollection of ever having set eyes on you," answered the man.

"What, were you never on board the _Ouzel Galley_?" asked Gerald.

"Never heard of her till a couple of days ago, when I saw her alongside the quay," was the reply.

"What, don't you know the name of Carnegan?" said Gerald.

"I may know it--but it isn't my name," answered the man.

"Then perhaps it is O'Harrall," said Gerald.

The man started. "How did you come to know that name?" he asked; adding quickly, "But that isn't my name either. If you want to know it, Michael Dillon is my name; and since I am to have the ill luck to be compelled to serve his Majesty afloat, I intend to show that it's one no man need be ashamed of."

"It is very extraordinary," thought Gerald. "This man's answers are so straightforward that I suppose I must have been mistaken." He did not further question the prisoner. The boats at length reached the ship, and the captives were sent below under a guard. Mr Foley, at Gerald's suggestion, gave orders that Dillon especially should be strictly watched, as should any of them leap overboard, they were sure to have friends waiting in readiness to pick them up.

This was only one of several expeditions made by the pressgang on shore, though none were so successful. On each occasion they were hooted by the mob; and not without reason, when husbands were torn from their wives, fathers from their children--several of those taken being either 'long-shore men or not even sailors--but men were wanted, and Captain Olding had been directed to get as many as he could pick up, to supply the other ships expected shortly to form the convoy of the fleet of merchantmen. Two frigates arrived a few days after this, and orders were issued to the merchant vessels to rendezvous in the bay. Every effort was made to get them ready, as those not prepared would probably have to wait for many months before another convoy would sail.

Ellen, as might have been expected, had gained her object, and her father had consented to her accompanying him on board the _Ouzel Galley_. It is as difficult to describe as to analyse the feelings with which poor Norah parted with her. She was sorry to lose her friend; she felt a very natural jealousy of her--or, if it was not jealousy, she would thankfully have changed places. Still more gladly would she have gone with her--though not for a moment did an unworthy doubt of her friend, still less of Owen, enter into her mind. But notwithstanding this, even had the offer been made to her to go out with Ellen, she would not have deserted her father. When she and Captain Tracy stood on the deck of the _Ouzel Galley_, as the stout ship sailed out of harbour, she succeeded in maintaining her composure. Not, indeed, till the signal gun was fired for the fleet to get under way, and she and the captain had taken their seats in the boat to return to the shore, did she show any signs of the feelings which were agitating her.

"Cheer up, Norah," said the old captain; "we'll pray that they may have a prosperous voyage and speedy return, and it won't be many months before we see the _Ouzel Galley_ coming back trim as ever into Waterford Harbour. Owen will soon make his fortune with the favour of Mr Ferris; he is a favourite captain, that is evident, and the house can put many a chance in his way of turning an honest penny. Perhaps after next voyage the ship will be requiring another repair, and as Owen will then have to remain for some time on shore, he may think fit to make you his wife, and I'll not object if he has your consent. I only wish Gerald were with him; the lad's thrown a good chance away, but he was so bent on joining the Royal Navy that I hadn't the heart to hinder him, though I might have been wiser to do so."

Thus the old captain ran on, his remarks contributing not a little to calm his daughter's feelings and to induce her to look forward hopefully to the future.

After spending a few days more in Dublin, the captain being employed in transacting some shipping business for the firm, he and Norah set off for Waterford, where, in spite of his apprehensions of being attacked by Rapparees, highwaymen, or abductors, they arrived in safety.

Meantime the _Ouzel Galley_, with about sixty other merchantmen collected from Liverpool, Glasgow, and various Irish ports, set sail down Channel, convoyed by the 32-gun frigates, _Thisbe_ and _Druid_, and the _Champion_ corvette; "Old Blowhard," as he was called, captain of the _Thisbe_, acting as commodore. The _Champion_ had a busy time of it whipping up the laggards and calling in the stragglers, who would, in spite of orders to the contrary, steer their own course. The _Ouzel Galley_ was among the well-behaved of the fleet, always keeping her proper position; and though she could have run well ahead of most of them, Owen never failed to shorten sail when necessary, for which he was complimented by Mr Ferris. Perhaps Ellen might have preferred more frequently seeing the _Champion_, which she soon learned to distinguish from the rest of the fleet. The _Druid_ was employed much as the _Champion_; but Old Blowhard kept his proper position in the van, making signals with his bunting or guns as occasion required.

The greater portion of the passage was accomplished without an enemy's cruiser having been sighted; indeed, no small French squadron would have ventured to approach the formidable-looking fleet, as many of the merchantmen carried guns, and three or four of them would have been a match for any frigate, or, at all events, would not have yielded without a hard struggle.

Meantime Gerald, who was disposed under all circumstances to make himself happy, thought the _Champion's_ employment very good fun, notwithstanding the grumblings of old Beater and Crowhurst, who were from morning till night abusing the slow-sailing "sugar-hogsheads," as they designated the merchant craft. He was only a little disappointed at having no opportunity of paying his friend a visit on board the _Ouzel Galley_--a feeling probably shared with him by the second lieutenant. The _Champion_ had been compelled to dispose of most of the pressed men between the two frigates, retaining only a few to make up her own complement. Among them was the man captured in the Dublin lodging-house, who had entered under the name of Michael Dillon. When Gerald came to see him oftener, the supposed likeness to Carnegan wore off, though still there was a wonderful similarity in the voice and manner. Dillon soon showed himself to be a bold and active seaman, and thereby gained the good opinion of the officers, though his behaviour was generally surly, especially towards the English portion of the crew. He took pains however, to ingratiate himself with the Irishmen, by being always ready to do a good turn to any of them, very frequently even sharing his grog with them--the highest mark of regard one seaman can show to another. Gerald, who naturally observed the man, fancied that he looked at him with a suspicious eye, and was inclined to keep out of his way; but at the same time he treated him, as he did the other midshipmen, with the required amount of respect, though certainly not with a particle more.

"You see, Tracy, I told you that Dillon and the rest of the pressed men would soon be brought into order by the discipline of a man-of-war," observed Mr Foley one day to Gerald, who was in his watch. "Blustering fellows, such as he appeared, become in a few weeks perfectly lamb-like."

"I wouldn't trust him overmuch, sir, nevertheless," answered Gerald. "From a remark the carpenter made to me the other day, he has formed no favourable opinion of him. He has several times found him talking in a low voice to the men, as if he had some especial object in view, and Mr O'Rourke thinks that, if he had an opportunity of doing mischief, he would do it."

"I am not fond of hearing unfavourable reports of the men, and I recommend you not to indulge in the habit of making them, unless officially required so to do," said the lieutenant, rather annoyed at Gerald's remarks.

"I had no intention of bringing them to you, sir," answered Gerald; "but when you spoke of Dillon, I felt myself called on to say what I had heard, especially as I have had suspicions of the man from the first. I indeed believed him to be a person we had on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and who, it was afterwards discovered, had been guilty of an act of piracy and murder."

"But if he is not the man you took him for, you should overcome your prejudice," remarked the lieutenant.

"I try to do so, sir," said Gerald, "and I should have thought no more about him if I hadn't heard remarks which aroused my former suspicions."

"I believe you are right, after all, Tracy," said Mr Foley; "we'll keep an eye on the man, and not place him in a position where he can do any harm."

This conversation took place when the convoy was about four or five days' sail from the West Indies.

"The commodore is signalling, sir," cried young Lord Mountstephen, who was acting as signal midshipman, "'A sail to the southward!--the _Champion_ to chase and ascertain her character.'"

"Make the answering signal," said Mr Foley. "Tracy, go and report to the captain."

The wind was at this time about south-east. The _Thisbe_ was in her usual station to windward of the fleet and abeam of the leading vessel, and the fleet with flowing sheets was steering to the westward. The _Champion_, hauling her wind, stood out from among them.

"The commodore suspects the stranger to be an enemy," observed the commander to Mr Foley. A look-out with sharp eyes was sent aloft, to report as soon as the sail indicated by the frigate should appear in sight. She was before long seen, and was evidently a large ship standing to the north-west, a course which would bring her up to the convoy.

"We must have a nearer look at her," said the commander; "she is more probably a friend than an enemy."

"Two other sail," cried the look-out from aloft, "following in the wake of the first."

Still the corvette, according to orders, stood on. As she approached the stranger, the commander changed his opinion.

"They are Frenchmen," he observed to his first lieutenant; "we'll keep away and run back to the commodore. If, as I suspect, all three are frigates, or perhaps larger craft, we shall have to bring them to action and allow the convoy to escape."

The announcement caused considerable excitement on board. "We shall probably be in action before the day is out," cried Gerald, as he went into the midshipmen's berth, "and have pretty hot work, too, if the Frenchmen show any pluck."

"The best news I've heard for many a day," said old Crowhurst. "Notwithstanding all I've done for my country, it's the only chance I have of getting promoted."

"I don't see how that's to be," said Gerald; "mates are not often mentioned in despatches."

"But if a happy shot were to knock either of our superiors on the head, I should obtain the rank I merit," replied the mate. "For that matter, I've seen service enough and done deeds sufficient to deserve being made a commander or post-captain."

"Long life to you, Captain Crowhurst!" exclaimed Gerald. "If I was a Lord of the Admiralty I'd promote you to-day and superannuate you to-morrow. I don't suppose the service would be greatly the loser."

"That youngster requires a cobbing," said Beater, who perceived what the other did not, that Gerald was laughing at him; and he pulled out his cob, prepared to inflict condign punishment.

"Now don't, till the action's over," said Gerald, getting ready to make his exit from the berth; "then, if the enemy's shot hasn't taken either of our heads off, you'll be welcome to do what you like--if you can catch me--and I don't intend that you should do that same just now;" and Gerald sprang through the doorway out of reach of the irate old mate. The other members of the berth talked over the probabilities of the expected fight. One and all were ready enough for it, especially two or three who had never yet seen a shot fired in anger; they having but little conception of what the result of a hard-fought action would be, even should they prove victorious.

As soon as the _Champion_ got within signalling distance of the commodore, Captain Olding reported three sail of the enemy in sight.

On this the _Thisbe_ hoisted a signal to the _Druid_ to join her, while the merchant vessels were directed to keep together and to stand on as they were steering. The three men-of-war now hauled up a little, the sooner to meet the enemy, the _Champion_ being to windward of the frigates.

"Old Blowhard expects that the enemy will take us for the advanced frigates of a large fleet, and will probably think it wiser to keep out of our way than to come nearer," observed Captain Olding to his first lieutenant, "Though we should beat them, we should gain but little by an action."

"I agree with you, sir. I never fancied fighting for barren glory, I confess," said Mr Tarwig; "and as our first duty is to defend our convoy, I conclude that the commodore will be satisfied if we can beat off the enemy."

"We may hope to do that, even though the _Champion_ will be somewhat overmatched; but I can trust to the ship's company to do their duty," said the captain, in a firm tone. "Clear the ship for action, Mr Tarwig."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the first lieutenant, giving the necessary orders. Lieutenant Foley and the other officers set about carrying them out with alacrity. He was glad to be actively employed, for many anxious thoughts oppressed his mind. He could not conceal from himself the fearful odds to which they were exposed, and what might possibly be the issue of the approaching conflict. One of the enemy was certainly greatly superior in force to the _Champion_, and the other two French ships might be much larger than the _Thisbe_ and _Druid_. Even should their own ships be disabled, though not captured, many of the merchant fleet might fall a prey to the Frenchmen, and the _Ouzel Galley_ might possibly be among the number. What then would be the fate of Ellen and her father? It was of the greatest importance to Mr Ferris to reach Jamaica without delay, and instead of that he might very likely be carried to France, or detained as a prisoner in one of the French West India islands; while Ellen must be exposed to much annoyance and suffering. He himself had no coward fears for his own life; but he knew full well, should he fall, the grief and anguish it would cause her.

All such thoughts were, however, put to flight as the two squadrons approached each other, the _Thisbe_ leading and the _Champion_, according to orders received from the commodore, bringing up the rear. Old Blowhard's object was to disable one of the French frigates before he attacked the other two, so that she might become a more equal antagonist for the _Champion_. As the squadrons approached, it was seen that each of the French frigates carried more guns than the _Thisbe_ and _Druid_, and nearly twice as many as the _Champion_. Old Blowhard, however, nothing daunted, stood on, firm to his purpose of attacking the enemy and leaving the convoy time to escape. The leading French frigate was a considerable way ahead of her consorts; on seeing the determined bearing of the English, she shortened sail, while they spread all the canvas they could to come up with her--the _Thisbe_ carrying all she could set, in order to attack her before they could accomplish their object. Just as the _Thisbe_ brought the enemy on her lee bow, the commodore threw out a signal to the _Druid_ to keep away and to rake the French frigate, while he poured his whole broadside into her. He also ordered the _Champion_ to imitate his example, and then to come about and fire her larboard broadside. The French captain might, of course, defeat these various manoeuvres by either keeping away or hauling his wind.

Every person on board was watching anxiously to see what he would do. No moments in a seaman's life are so intensely exciting as those when, before a shot is fired, his ship is standing into action. The wind was moderate, the sky of a cerulean hue, and the sea tolerably calm, the rays of the sun glittering on the snowy crests of the waves. The looked-for moment at length arrived. The _Thisbe's_ foremost gun broke the deep silence which had hitherto reigned over the ocean. It was rapidly followed by her broadside guns, to which the Frenchman replied with spirit. The _Druid_, suddenly putting up her helm, fired the whole of her larboard broadside into the Frenchman's bows, then again luffing up in time to fire her starboard guns, trained well aft, before the _Champion_ got into a position by which she might suffer from their shot. The corvette now stood in to action, running so close to her large antagonist that their respective yardarms almost touched, most of the shot from the French frigate's upper deck going harmlessly over her, though she suffered considerably from those of the main-deck. Her rigging, however, escaping much damage, she was able to haul her wind and come about. Notwithstanding the severe punishment she was receiving, the French frigate gave no signs of surrendering.

"We can tackle her now, I think, by ourselves," observed Captain Olding to his first lieutenant. The commodore, however, had no intention of allowing his small consort to do that. His first broadside had cut away many of the braces of the French ship, and severely wounded her mainyard. He now, consequently, having come about, was able to range up on her starboard quarter directly after the _Champion_ had passed on. Again pouring in his broadside, he shot away the French frigate's mizen-mast, which came crashing down on deck. Shouts rose from the decks of the English ships as what had occurred was seen. Both the English frigates had now to engage the two Frenchmen--one following the other, they were quickly exchanging broadsides. The _Thisbe_ then addressed herself especially to the second French frigate, while the _Druid_ took the third in hand, the commodore ordering the _Champion_ to continue her attack on the first till he could come to her assistance.

All three of the English ships had by this time lost a number of men, though they had inflicted still greater damage on the French frigates. Captain Olding fought the corvette bravely, manoeuvring to keep ahead of his antagonist. The great object had already been gained, the escape of the merchant fleet, the topgallantsails of the rearmost vessels of which had long since disappeared beneath the horizon. Though the _Champion's_ rigging remained uninjured, with the exception of a brace or two cut through, she had received some severe damages in her hull. Three men had been killed, and six, including her gunner, wounded.

"We are succeeding better than might have been expected, Tarwig," observed Captain Olding. "If we can't make this fellow strike, we can keep him from running away or joining his consorts. See, there goes the _Druid's_ mainmast, and there comes her foremast. Blowhard must take care not to have both the enemy on him at once, or he may fare no better."

For a few minutes it was difficult to see what the four ships were about, so close were they together, and enveloped in smoke; for the fall of the English frigate's masts had encouraged the Frenchmen (whose fire had somewhat slackened) to fresh exertions, and their fire was renewed with greater vigour than before. Lieutenant Foley turned his eye towards them, for it was very evident that the corvette, unless she could knock away another of her antagonist's masts, was not likely to gain the victory. He anxiously looked for the commodore's promised assistance. Presently, one of the combatants was seen issuing from the smoke, followed closely by the other, and standing towards the corvette. Unless she could make good her escape, her capture or destruction was scarcely problematical. The _Thisbe_ was following, firing her guns as they could be brought to bear; but she could not arrive in time to save the corvette. Captain Olding had no intention of deserting his consorts; he hauled up, therefore, to the southward in order to tack and stand down towards the _Druid_. He now saw that the hulls of the French frigates were sorely battered. One of them threw out signals, when their leading frigate, coming round on the starboard tack, made all sail to the northward, as did both the others, apparently having had enough of fighting. The commodore now signalled to the _Champion_ to stand after the convoy, and he himself was soon afterwards seen following, having sent a party of his hand on board the _Druid_ to assist her in repairing damages. _

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