Chapter 9

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_ CHAPTER NINE.

The French crew, when all immediate danger was over, again began to show a mutinous disposition, some refusing to take their spell at the pumps, others forming groups and talking eagerly together. Owen ascertained, from what they were saying, that they believed the "Sylvia" to have gone down, so that if they could retake the frigate they might be able to make off with her. Some of them, having got hold of a cask of spirits, were becoming every instant more and more unruly.

"We shall have to clap the whole of them in irons, or lash them into their hammocks," observed Lieutenant Leigh to Mr Stewart.

Just then Owen, who had been sent to the mizen topmast head by Mr Leigh to take a look-out, shouted--

"A sail to the north-west, she is standing this way and close hauled."

On hearing this Mr Stewart went aloft with his spy-glass. After waiting some time he shouted--

"She is the frigate, sir, coming to look for us--no doubt about that."

The "Venus," by this time having got sufficiently far from the coast, was hove to. The Frenchmen, finding that they were out in their calculations, changed their conduct and became very submissive.

Before long the "Sylvia" was up to the prize. A boat came off from her, and Mr Leigh in return sent a report, written at his dictation by Owen, of what had occurred, with the request that the more troublesome of the prisoners might be removed. This occupied time, when the "Sylvia" shortening sail to keep company with the prize, the two frigates stood for the Bay of Marrack.

Here the French crew were sent on shore, the officers receiving permission, on giving their parole, to reside in the neighbouring village. Every effort was now made to repair the "Sylvia's" damages, and to fit the prize for going round to Batavia, where, it was hoped, a sufficient number of men would be found to man her, as she would prove a valuable addition to the British squadron in those seas. As soon as Mr Leigh was able he went on board the "Sylvia," taking Owen with him.

"Young Hartley has behaved admirably, sir," he said to Captain Stanhope. "Through his intelligence we were saved from being set upon by the Frenchmen, who had formed a plot to attempt the recapture of the prize."

He then gave the particulars with which he was acquainted of Owen's history.

"I believe I am right, am I not?" he continued, turning to Owen.

"Yes, sir," was the answer.

Captain Stanhope then put numerous questions to Owen, which he answered in an apparently satisfactory way.

"As my clerk--poor Jones--in our action with the 'Venus' was wounded and has since died, I will give you his berth at once," said the captain, "as I understand you are fully capable of filling it, and I may perhaps, if you wish it, place you on the quarter-deck as a midshipman, unless you would rather take any opportunity which may occur of returning to your friends. If you stick to the service you may rise in it."

"Thank you, sir," said Owen; "I wish to do as you think best. I am very willing to act as your clerk, and hope that I may give you satisfaction. I had not thought of entering the navy or remaining at sea in the merchant service."

"At all events, I will at once give you a rating as my clerk; you will then be on the quarter-deck and mess in the midshipmen's berth. In regard to your entering the service I will leave it to your further consideration."

"If poor Jones' things have not yet been sold I shall be happy to purchase them for Mr Hartley," said Mr Leigh.

The second lieutenant was a young man of good means.

"You shall do as you wish," said the captain. "At all events I will speak to the purser, and see that Hartley gets a proper outfit. The tailor will soon put a patch on his jacket should he become a midshipman."

Owen felt very grateful to the captain and his kind friend the second lieutenant. He did not hesitate for a moment about acting as the captain's clerk while he remained on board, but he asked himself the question whether it was not his duty, should he find the opportunity, to return to Mr Fluke's counting-house, from which he had not been formally dismissed. He had come only for a holiday to regain his health, and he considered that he was bound to go back again. He found, however, that, having once entered, he could not leave the ship without the captain's leave until she returned home and was paid off. There was now no help for it. Captain Stanhope was evidently a kind man, and would, should a favourable opportunity occur, allow him to go home. Still, Owen saw that the present was no time to talk about that. He at once set to work on his new duties, and he soon found, from the approval expressed by the captain, that he performed them satisfactorily.

Mr Scoones, who had not left the ship, wishing to go round in her to Batavia, looked very much astonished when he saw Owen in an officer's dress on the quarter-deck. He had himself, however, so completely lost credit with the officers from his conduct in the action that few of them spoke to him. He was glad therefore for some one to speak to. Going up to Owen, he addressed him with a patronising air--

"Glad to see that your talents have been discovered, my young friend," he said; "had I felt justified, I should have recommended you to the captain from the first, but as you thought fit to associate with the ship's boys and men, I could not do so with any propriety."

"I do not know with whom else I could have associated, Mr Scoones," answered Owen, laughing. "You certainly showed no inclination for my society, and unhappily all the other officers were lost. Had it not been for the ship's boy you speak of, and the only man who remained sober, we none of us should have escaped."

"Well, well," answered Mr Scoones, "let bygones be bygones. If I get home first I will report your good fortune--that you are as strong and hearty as your friends could wish you to be. You will not, I suppose, send home an account of the shipwreck, for you and I may differ in our statements. Mine of course is the one which will be accredited, as no one at home will fancy that you can know anything about the matter."

"I should not wish to say anything to incriminate you," answered Owen; "but the lives of a great number of our fellow-creatures are at stake when an officer loses his senses, and I therefore hope that you will either give up drinking or quit the sea."

"Then you intend to accuse me of casting away the ship through drunkenness?" exclaimed Mr Scoones, looking as though he could eat Owen up.

"Whatever I say or do will be from a sense of duty," answered Owen.

A part of this conversation had been overheard by the first lieutenant, who held Mr Scoones in most supreme contempt, fully believing, from what he knew of him, that it was through his drunkenness that the ship had been lost.

"Mr Scoones," he said, addressing that person, "it has been decided that you should go on shore at once. If you are in a hurry to reach Batavia, you can, without difficulty, find your way overland."

A boat was just then about to shove off. The first mate of the hapless "Druid" having no traps to get ready, stepped into her, and was conveyed on shore.

"Hartley," said the first lieutenant, turning to Owen, "I wish you to draw up an exact account of the shipwreck, and state, to the best of your belief, how it occurred, and if corroborated by your two surviving shipmates, they shall sign it, and it shall be sent home. That fellow ought never to get the command of a ship, or sail again even as a mate."

Owen was sorry to leave Mr Leigh, who remained in command of the prize; at the same time he was glad to escape from Ashurst, who showed, during a short visit he paid to the frigate to get some of his traps, that he retained the ill-feeling he had all along manifested towards him.

Mike and Nat managed to come on board the "Sylvia" for a few moments to congratulate Owen, they having heard of what they called his good fortune.

"You are in your proper place now, Mr Hartley," exclaimed Nat; "one good thing is, that Mr Ashurst won't venture to hit you with the rope's end."

"Shure I'm mighty plased to see you made an officer, Mr Hartley," said Mike; "when you are a commander, as you will be sartain one of these days, I'd be proud to be your coxswain."

"I'm not a midshipman yet," answered Owen, laughing, "though I truly thank you for your good wishes."

Owen drew up a faithful report of the loss of the "Druid," which, meeting with the approbation of Captain Stanhope, was forwarded by the first opportunity. The repairs to the frigate and her prize having been made, they sailed to Batavia, where several other men-of-war were found at anchor.

Not without some, difficulty a crew was collected to man the "Venus," partly from the seamen of merchant vessels in port, as also from some who had been shipwrecked, with a few men-of-war's men from the "Sylvia" and other ships. Mr Hawkins, the first lieutenant of the "Sylvia," who had just been promoted to the rank of commander, received an acting order as captain of the "Venus," and Mr Leigh returned to the "Sylvia" as her first lieutenant. Owen was very glad to have Mr Leigh on board, as he had shown him so much kindness, and equally well pleased that Ashurst remained in the "Venus."

Ashurst, however, paid two or three visits to the "Sylvia," during which he made disparaging remarks about Owen in the mess.

Although several of the things were said in his presence, Owen took no notice of them. He trusted that he might win the regard of his new messmates by his uniform good conduct and gentlemanly bearing towards them. Still, he found that he had much to put up with. Ashurst possessed considerable influence in the berth, and there is an old saying, that "dirt cannot be thrown without some of it sticking." Owen was often treated in a contemptuous manner by several of the mates and midshipmen. He heard himself called a wretched young quill-driver, Cheeseparings, junior--Cheeseparings being the name gived to the purser--the captain's spy, or licenced talebearer, with many similar uncomplimentary epithets. He made no complaint even when Mr Leigh once kindly asked him if he was happy in the berth, nor did he reply in a way to excite the anger of those who were endeavouring to annoy him.

He knew that it could not last long. He had written to Mr Fluke, stating the position in which he was on board the "Sylvia," and asking whether it was his wish that he should return home and resume his duties in the counting-house. He dispatched a much longer letter to his friends at Fenside, giving a full account of his adventures. He did not forget either to write to Mrs Aggett, describing her husband's peaceful death, feeling that a knowledge of this would be far more consolatory to the widow, than should she suppose that he had been lost during the horrors of a shipwreck, which otherwise she would very naturally have concluded to have been the case. He was greatly puzzled whenever he thought the matter over, to account for Ashurst's manner. As far as Owen could judge, Ashurst did not treat any of his other young messmates in the same way, although he might have been somewhat supercilious in his manner towards them, as if he considered himself a being of a superior order. Captain Stanhope was anxious, as soon as possible, to get away from Batavia, there being much sickness in the place, as is usually the case in that unhealthy town. He hoped, however, that the ships would escape, as he allowed none of the officers or men to visit the shore oftener than could be helped. Owen, however, on one occasion accompanied the captain, who had business to transact. They were returning to the harbour to embark when they met a party of natives, carrying a person on a stretcher, followed by several Dutchmen, and two or three English sailors. The bearers stopped on seeing the captain, supposing that he was some one in authority, and placed the stretcher on the ground.

"Please, sir," said one of the seamen, "we have just picked up this Englishman; can you tell us where we are to take him to?"

"To the public hospital of course," answered Captain Stanhope, "if the man is alive. But are you sure of that?" he asked, looking down.

Owen just then recognised the countenance of the first mate of the "Druid," as did also Captain Stanhope.

"I suspect that he is a subject for the dead-house rather than the hospital," observed the captain.

"Why, so I believe," cried the seaman, placing his hand on the mate's heart, and then lifting up his arm, it fell motionless by his side.

Captain Stanhope ascertained that the man had been seen to fall down, apparently in a drunken fit and had not since uttered a word.

"Take him to the hospital, and you will soon learn whether he is dead, or if there is any hope of his recovering," said the captain.

The bearers taking up the dead body--for dead he was, there could be no doubt--hurried on to the hospital as directed. Such was the ending of the first mate of the "Druid," and such has been that of countless numbers of seamen who have given way to the terrible vice of drunkenness.

Owen returned on board with the captain. It was his last visit to the shore. Indeed, attractive as the country is in appearance, few would wish to visit that pestiferous region. The two frigates having been refitted, sailed together for a cruise through the Indian seas.

Captain Stanhope's orders were to visit Amboyna, several of the Molucca islands, Banda Neira, and other places which had been lately captured from the Dutch. The castle of Belgica, the chief fort of Banda Neira, had been taken in an especially gallant manner the year before by Captain Cole, of the frigate "Caroline," and Captain Kenah, of the "Barracouta" sloop. Landing at night, during a violent storm, accompanied by Lieutenant Lyons and several other officers, they made their way to the rear of the citadel. Though discovered, scrambling up by means of scaling ladders, they forced their way in, and in a few minutes became masters of the castle.

Very naturally the officers and crew of the "Sylvia" regretted that they had not been there to share in the honour of the achievement.

Some months passed away in a satisfactory manner to Owen, as numerous places of interest were visited, especially the spice-producing islands, where he had an opportunity of seeing numberless objects of natural history. Birds of rare plumage, shells of magnificent size, tinted with the most beautiful colours, as well as curious animals, such as were to be seen in no other region. Owen, who was a fair swimmer, took every opportunity, when the ships were at anchor and bathing was possible, to improve himself in the art. Although others bathed with him, very few took as much pains as he did. His frequent companion on such occasions was John Langton, a master's mate, who, being older, was a superior swimmer, and seemed to take much pleasure in giving him instruction. They did their best to induce others to join them, but very few would take the trouble to learn to swim.

"We never can tell what may happen," remarked Langton. "A time may come when you may earnestly wish that you had learnt to swim. A person who can do so may be the means of saving not only his own life but that of others."

It was necessary, however, to be very careful, as many places in these seas swarmed with sharks and other marine creatures. They had always to select some lagoon, cut off from the ocean, or to keep a bright look-out when swimming along the shore, and never to venture far out. Owen, though still inferior to Langton, soon became an expert swimmer.

Two mails had come out from England, which, according to Owen's calculations, might have brought him letters, but none arrived, and he began to fear those he had written home had been lost. Not that he was very anxious to leave the ship, as he had already succeeded in overcoming the prejudices of his messmates, and even the most ill-natured had to acknowledge that he was not a bad fellow, although he might be somewhat mean-spirited. John Langton had from the first stood his friend in a judicious way. He had not defended him in his presence when attacked, seeing how wisely Owen was conducting himself, but he had taken good care to speak in his favour when he was not present.

Langton was a quiet-mannered, somewhat silent young man, but those who knew him best were very sure that he was capable of daring and doing, should an opportunity occur, as much as any man, and Owen was naturally drawn towards him. For some time he was the only person in the mess with whom he had much conversation. By degrees Owen's messmates forgot that he had been a boy before the mast, and treated him as one of themselves. He thus found the position as pleasant as he could desire, until one day while the frigates were in harbour Reginald Ashurst made his appearance on board.

"I'm come to take up my berth among you again," he said to Langton. "I should be very well pleased if it were not for having that little upstart Hartley in our mess. I expected that he would have been sent home before this. I wonder why the captain was induced to retain him?"

"I should think because he finds him very well qualified for the duties he has to perform," answered Langton. "If you had seen as much of him as we have, I think that you would have no reason to find fault with him."

"Birds of a feather flock together," muttered Ashurst, as he turned away.

Langton heard the remark, but took no notice of it. Owen had again a good deal to endure from Ashurst, and his temper was sorely tried. Often a retort rose to his lips, though he refrained from uttering it. A month or more went by. The two frigates had come round to the northern end of Celebes.

Captain Stanhope sent the "Venus" on to Batavia, while the "Sylvia" stood in for the port of Gorontello in the Bay of Tomonie, which place had been taken from the Dutch, and which was governed by a native prince who had declared his attachment to the British Government. Captain Stanhope's object was to communicate with the sultan, and to present him with some presents in order to retain his friendship. The frigate, however, had got within eight or ten miles from the port when it came on a perfect calm. Bringing the ship to an anchor the captain resolved to go on shore in the pinnace. He took with him Langton, Ashurst, and Owen, as also the purser, who went to purchase fresh provisions.

A small party of marines accompanied him to act as a guard of honour. The frigate being to the southward of the port, the boat after a long pull reached Gorontello. The visit to the sultan was paid, and passed off satisfactorily, although the ceremonies occupied a longer time than the captain had expected. The purser had purchased his stores, and got them on board. Some other delays occurred, so that it was late before the boat started to return to the frigate. A light wind was, however, blowing; sometimes it came from the northward and at others from off the land.

"If this wind holds we shall get down to the frigate in little more than an hour," observed Captain Stanhope to Langton.

Darkness in those latitudes, as is well-known, comes on very rapidly. The sun had set, the boat was carrying all sail, when the wind came off the land, from which she was then about two miles distant. Whether the coxswain had indulged in a glass of arrack on shore, or from some other cause, neither he nor any one else was keeping an eye to windward, as should have been done. Suddenly a squall struck the boat, and before the helm could be put down, or a sheet let go, over she heeled, and being already heavily laden with the fresh provisions, the water rushed in on the lee side, and she capsized. Providentially most of the provisions fell out of her, and her ballast consisting of water casks, instead of sinking, she floated keel upwards. The officers had previously taken off their swords, the marines let go their muskets, and nearly all hands, disentangling themselves from the rigging, got hold of the boat.

The captain, setting the example, climbed up on the keel, calling on his men to follow. All who could, did so. Two unfortunate marines, however, encumbered with their accoutrements, had remained under her. Their cries for help were almost immediately stifled. Owen found himself seated next to Langton.

"Help! help!" cried a voice close astern. "I cannot swim, and am sinking."

"It is Ashurst," exclaimed Owen; "come and help him."

Owen and Langton immediately slipped into the water, and striking out quickly got up to where Ashurst was struggling.

"Keep quiet, and trust to us," said Langton, seizing him by one arm. Owen grasped the other, and thus preventing him from clutching them, they towed him back to the boat; then telling him to hold fast while they climbed again on the keel, they hauled him up.

He was too much exhausted to speak, but he certainly made no attempt to express his thanks. A boat-hook and a couple of oars had been found floating close to the boat, and the men had placed them on the bottom. Langton proposed to Owen to swim round and pick up others. They succeeded in finding three more, but the rest by that time had drifted out of sight. They returned with those they had regained, and resumed their seats.

The captain, on calling over the names of the crew, found that, besides the two marines who had been drowned under the boat, two of the men were missing. The position of those on the boat was now perilous in the extreme. The wind was increasing, and was drifting her further and further from the shore. Although it was possible that she might be seen in the morning by the frigate, before that time all on her, in all probability, would be washed off.

"We might get help from Gorontello, as there are several boats in the harbour," observed the captain; "but it is not likely that the accident was observed there, unless any one by chance has been watching us through a spy-glass."

"I am afraid there is very little hope of that," answered Langton.

"We must endeavour to hold on until the morning, when the frigate may discover us," said the captain. "Cheer up, my lads, many men have been in a worse condition than we are and have escaped."

The seamen cheered, to show that they were not down-hearted, and were ready as ever to obey their captain.

"If we had but some food, we might fare better," observed the purser. "I think I see something floating near us now."

"I'll get it," cried Owen, slipping into the water and swimming towards it. The object proved to be a covered basket of fruit, which he towed back in triumph. It was hauled up and secured. The men cried out for some at once.

"Stay, my lads," said the captain, "none of you can be very hungry or thirsty as yet. By-and-by I will serve out a share to each man." The sailors acquiesced without a word. "I fear that we shall drift out to sea," observed Captain Stanhope, after a silence of some minutes. "Although when we are missed Mr Leigh will certainly send boats in search of us, they will not know where to look. Could we by any means communicate with the shore, word might be sent along he coast, and those who are acquainted with the set of the current would easily know in what direction to pull."

"I might be able to swim to the shore, sir," said Langton, "but it is a long distance to go alone. Are any of you men good swimmers?"

No one answered. There was not a man who felt capable of accomplishing the feat.

"If I may go with Langton I will, sir," exclaimed Owen. "I never have swum as much as two miles, but I know that I can keep in the water a long time, and I think I can do it."

The captain hesitated. "I accept Langton's offer, but I would rather that an older person than you are should go. Since I was wounded I have been unable to make any violent exertion, and I am very sure that I should be unable to accomplish half the distance."

"I would gladly have Hartley accompany me," said Langton. "I have often seen him take a long swim, and come in as fresh as he was at starting. Every instant increases our distance from the shore."

"If you both feel confident that you can swim as far, I will no longer object," said the captain. "Before you go, however, take some of the fruit; it will refresh you, although it will not add much to your strength."

"Thank you, sir," exclaimed Owen, as if an especial favour had been granted him.

He and Langton each ate a small portion of the fruit, both offering up in the meantime an earnest prayer for protection.

"May Heaven preserve you, my lads," said the captain, as he shook their hands.

Having taken off their outer clothes, retaining only their drawers, socks, and shirts, they both together slipped into the water and struck out for the shore, which could still be dimly seen. Their companions cheered as they swam from the boat.

"We must not over-exert ourselves at first," said Langton, as Owen, putting forth all his strength, was shooting past him. "We shall both do it, please Heaven, but we must not be down-hearted although we appear to make but little way."

Owen, taking the advice, kept pace with Langton, who maintained a slow, steady stroke. They could hear the voices of their companions, who every now and then raised a cheer to encourage them. For some time the cheers sounded almost as distinct as those at first uttered.

"We can have got but a very short distance," remarked Owen.

"The sound travels further than you suppose," answered Langton. "We have made good way already."

On they went, every now and then speaking a word of encouragement to each other.

"I am thankful you came with me," said Langton; "it would have been far more trying had I been alone."

On and on they went, still the dark outline of the shore appeared as far off as ever. Now and then Langton proposed that they should turn on their backs. They could not venture to make way for any length of time in that position for fear of getting out of their proper course. Owen had somewhat overrated his strength. He began to feel his arms and legs ache, but he would not tell Langton of his sensations. At last he was compelled to propose that they should float for a short time. Langton guessed the cause, and willingly agreed.

In a minute Owen felt rested, and once more they proceeded. He was again about to propose taking another rest, and was turning on his back, when he saw rising above the water, a few feet from him, a triangular fin. Though certain that it was that of a huge shark, he resolved not to tell his companion. Dreadful were his feelings. At any moment the monster might discover them. As yet it had not apparently done so. The dark fin glided on, but another and another came into sight. There might be many more astern. Not one, however, deviated from its course, and the creatures at length disappeared. Not until then did Owen utter an exclamation.

"What was it?" asked Langton.

Owen confessed that he had seen the sharks.

"A good sign," said Langton, "it shows that they are not given to attack human beings in these waters. Don't let us trouble our heads about them."

This Owen found it was not so easy to do. It appeared to him that they had been hours in the water. The courage of the two swimmers was greatly tried, for still the land seemed as far off as ever.

More than once Owen felt that he could go no further. He prayed that strength might be given him, and again struck out bravely. The sight of the sharks made him unwilling to rest even for a moment, for he knew as long as he kept his arms and legs moving there was less danger of being seized. At last a feeling came over him that he must give in.

"Push on ahead, Langton," he said, in a faint voice, "I will follow slowly; but I only detain you now."

"No, no, Hartley," answered Langton. "I will not desert you; cheer up, cheer up."

Just at that moment Langton felt his feet strike the ground. For an instant he feared that it was a shark, or some other monster fish, but, again putting down his foot he felt the hard, soft sand.

"Thank Heaven, Owen, it's all right, here's the bottom!" he exclaimed.

Both swimming on a few strokes more, Owen found that his feet also could touch the sand, and that he could stand up with his head out of water.

They waded on; the depth decreased but slowly, but still it did decrease. Langton's shoulders rose above the surface, he could now assist Owen. Exerting all their strength they made rapid way, and in a few minutes more found themselves standing on the dry beach.

Both offered up their thanks to Heaven for their preservation, when, Owen's strength failing, he sank down on the sand. Langton was the first to recover.

"Do not wait for me," said Owen. "I suppose you'll make the best of your way along, the shore until you get abreast of the ship, unless you can find a native boat before then to take you off to her?"

"That's what I propose doing," answered Langton; "but I will not leave you until you regain your strength."

In a few minutes Owen declared himself able to walk.

"Before we start let us try to find out whether any natives are near; they may be able to help us," said Langton.

They shouted at the top of their voices, but no reply was heard. They did so, believing that all the natives were friendly in that region.

"We must get help without delay," said Langton. "That we may have a double chance, I suggest, Owen, that you try to make your way back to Gorontello, which cannot be more than three or four miles off, while I go down towards the ship. If I fall in with a native boat, I will go off at once; if not, I will make a signal from the shore with a big bonfire, and Mr Leigh is pretty sure to send in a boat to learn the cause. You must, in the meantime, endeavour to obtain a boat. You are certain to find some one to interpret for you; promise a handsome reward to those who succeed in discovering the captain and the rest."

The plan was no sooner arranged than acted on. Owen, as fast as his legs could carry him, started along the shore in one direction, and Langton in the other. Sometimes Owen found the sand smooth enough, but at others he came to rough rocks, over which he had to climb. Now and then he saw a light on his left twinkling in the distance, but he passed no human habitation. Again and again, however, he shouted, hoping that some fisherman's boat might be concealed among the rocks. No one came near him, and he concluded that the people had retired for the night to their homes. Often, overcome by fatigue, he felt inclined to stop, but remembering that the lives of his captain and shipmates were at stake, he pushed on, now running at full speed along the sand, and now climbing over the rough ground.

At length, greatly to his joy, he saw some lights ahead, they showed that he was approaching the town. "I hope that all the people have not gone to bed. It will be a hard matter to rouse them up," he thought. "The lights show that some are up at all events." At length he got among the houses, or rather huts, for few of the buildings deserved a grander name. Some of the natives came out and stared at him, but he could not make them understand what he wanted. They did not, probably, recognise him as one of the smartly dressed officers who had paid a visit to the sultan in the morning. They saw, however, that he was a stranger. At last one made signs to him that he would show him where a person lived who could understand what he said; so Owen fancied was the meaning of the native's gesticulations. "Yes, quick," answered Owen.

The native led the way along several rows of huts, until they reached the door of a building of superior pretensions with a broad verandah overlooking the harbour. Owen at once called out--

"Does any one understand English here? If so, I want their assistance without delay. I can promise a handsome reward to all who give it."

"Come in, come in," said a voice in a foreign accent. A native appeared at the door with a light in his hand. "Mynheer Van Wijk will see you," said he, as he conducted Owen into a room where a white man was reclining in a hammock, with a huge pipe in his mouth, whom he supposed to be Mynheer Van Wijk, the owner of the mansion.

"Vat you want?" exclaimed Mynheer, gazing at Owen, as he stood, shoeless and hatless, in his still damp shirt and trousers.

Owen, in as few words as possible, explained who he was, and the accident which had happened.

"Donder en bliksem, dat is bad," exclaimed the Dutchman, tumbling out of his hammock and putting on his coat and shoes. "Dare is no time to lose; we must go off at once. And you, young gentleman, want food and clothing. You'll be getting fever if we don't look after you. Mine young son's clothes will fit you; you must put them on."

He shouted, when a servant appeared, to whom he gave some orders. In a few minutes the servant returned with a bundle of clothes and a towel.

Owen thankfully exchanged his wet garments for the young Dutchman's dress, although he was conscious that he cut a somewhat unusual appearance in it. He had scarcely time to finish his toilet before another servant came in with several dishes of food.

"Fall to," said Mynheer Van Wijk; "we have no time to lose I have sent down to ze harbour to order two boats to be got ready. You and I will go in one, and my friend Jacob Leefkens will take charge of ze other. He known ze set of ze tides about here as well as any native."

Owen quickly finished his repast, of which he stood greatly in need.

"My captain and the men with him have no provisions, and I should be thankful to take a supply if you will enable me to procure them," said Owen.

"Of course we will carry food and water and scheidam for ze poor fellows," said the Dutchman.

Owen accompanied Mynheer Van Wijk down to the harbour, where they found two boats, each manned by eight powerful-looking natives. Jacob Leefkens was evidently a seafaring man by the way in which he received Mynheer Van Wijk's directions. Owen was thankful when he found himself thus far successful in commencing the search for his shipmates. He had described as minutely as he could the position of the boat when she was upset, and the two Dutchmen arranged their courses accordingly. The boats pulled on and on. Owen thought that they ought to have got up to the spot where he had left his shipmates. He shouted several times as loudly as he could, aided by Mynheer Van Wijk. The wind had risen considerably, and the further they pulled out the higher the sea was running. Owen began to fear that the people might have been washed off the boat, or that perhaps righting, she had filled and gone down. He thought, too, of Langton, and the dangers he might have to encounter. On speaking on the subject to Mynheer Van Wijk the reply was--

"They are not good people down there; they are too fond of cutting off heads, and a white man himself would be looked upon as a prize."

"I trust such has not been the fate of my friend," said Owen.

"The natives have probably gone to their huts, and his safety will depend on his not falling in with them," observed Mynheer Van Wijk.

From time to time Owen continued to shout, so that they should not pass the boat without being discovered. Jacob Leefkens at last rejoined them.

"I am afraid she's gone to the bottom," he observed.

"Do not say that, Jacob," answered Mynheer Van Wijk. "We will search for them until to-morrow night, if we do not find them before."

This last remark was consolatory to Owen, and thankful he was that he had fallen in with the honest Dutchman. Now the boats rowed further off shore, now pulled along parallel with it. Owen saw that it would have been impossible for Langton to have found the boat, and, having righted her, to have towed her back to the ship.

Again Jacob, shouting from his boat, declared that the boat must have gone down, as not a sign of her appeared.

"Perhaps I mistook her position," suggested Owen.

"Well, we will push on further," said Mynheer Van Wijk. "Let us give one more hearty shout together."

All three, joined by the natives, raised their voices.

Just then a faint sound came from the southward.

"There they are! there they are!" cried Owen. "They heard us, and are holloaing in return."

The natives were ordered to give way, and in a few minutes more a louder "holloa" was heard.

They were evidently nearing the boat.

Owen, eager to know how they had fared, stood up and hailed them as he approached.

"Are all safe?"

"Ay, ay," was the answer.

In a short time Mynheer Van Wijk's boat was alongside the pinnace. One by one the people were taken off her, Captain Stanhope remaining until the last. Several of them were greatly exhausted, especially Ashurst, who could scarcely speak. Captain Stanhope grasped Owen by the hand. His first question was for Langton. He felt satisfied when Owen told him that, after landing safely, he had gone in the direction of the ship along the shore.

As the captain was unwilling to lose the boat, he accepted Jacob Leefken's offer to right her, and to tow her back to the frigate. He was specially anxious that this should be done, as they would probably fall in with Langton on the way, and save him from a vain search.

Captain Stanhope was also very glad to accept Mynheer Van Wijk's invitation to his house, as it was a long pull back to the frigate.

"Hartley," said the captain, "you have acted nobly in risking your life for the sake of saving those of your shipmates. I shall never forget it, and I will not fail to make known your conduct to those in authority, who will still better than I am be able to promote your interests. I before told you that I should be ready to rate you as a midshipman, and immediately on our return to the frigate I will do so. You may depend upon rising in the service while I live and possess any influence."

On hearing Mynheer Van Wijk's report of the natives the captain became very anxious about Langton. Owen at once volunteered, if Mynheer Van Wijk would provide a boat, to pull along the shore, and ascertain whether he had succeeded or not in getting off to the frigate. Several of the boat's crew offered to accompany him.

The rest, including the captain, were too much exhausted to make the attempt. Ashurst declared that he should not be fit for duty for a month to come, he felt so thoroughly done up.

The Dutchman promised the boat at daybreak, observing that it was of no use to start before then.

Owen, for the sake of his friend, was eager to be off, and, in spite of the fatigue he had gone through, he was up at dawn. He aroused those who were to accompany him, and Mynheer Van Wijk leading the way, they hurried down to the harbour. The latter did not offer to go with them, "as he must," he observed, "attend to the captain and other guests on shore," but he sent a competent interpreter, who would enable Owen to communicate with the natives.

As the boat pulled out of the harbour, it was found that the wind had changed to the southward. No sooner did the sun rise than his rays struck the white canvas of the frigate, which was seen under all sail standing for them. Owen steered towards her, in order to ascertain whether Langton had got on board. Shortly afterwards he caught sight of two men-of-war boats, one under sail, the other pulling.

"Hurrah! Langton must have escaped then," he exclaimed. In a few minutes he was up to the nearest, and Langton himself answered his hail. He had got on board with less difficulty than he had expected in a native boat, and seemed but little the worse for his exertions.

In a short time they were on board, and having answered the numerous questions put to them, were both thankful to turn into their hammocks and get the rest they so much required.

In the evening the captain and the rest of the people returned on board, and a substantial acknowledgment having been made to the worthy Dutchman, next day the frigate sailed for Batavia. _

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Read previous: Chapter 8

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