Chapter 17. The "Concorde" Recaptured By The "Atalante"...

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_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE "CONCORDE" RECAPTURED BY THE "ATALANTE"--THE SHIPS IN A GALE--THE "ATALANTE" WRECKED--RONALD SWIMS ASHORE--COMMUNICATION ESTABLISHED--THE ENGLISH SHUT UP IN A TOWER

In vain Lieutenant Calder and the prize crew of the "Concorde" attempted to resist the onslaught of the enemy. Several were killed, others were wounded, and they soon found themselves completely overpowered. No time was lost in conveying them on board the ship which had captured them, which proved to be the "Atalante," a consort of their hard-won prize. Most of the wounded French prisoners were removed likewise, that they might be under the care of the chief surgeon of the ship, and among them was Alfonse Gerardin. He had somewhat recovered his strength and spirits, and now that he found himself no longer a prisoner, he talked away freely as well with the young Frenchmen of his own rank as with the English midshipmen.

When the transfer of prisoners had been accomplished, the "Atalante" took the "Concorde" in tow and made sail, but the wind increasing, the hawser broke, and both ships had to look out for their safety independently of each other.

In consequence of the comparatively small number of the English prisoners they were not very strictly guarded, and the officers were allowed to go about the decks by themselves.

The gale increased during the night, and when early in the morning Ronald Morton went on deck, he found the French ship scudding before it under bare poles.

There was a good deal of confusion on board; the crew were labouring at the pumps, but in anything but an energetic manner; some would suddenly knock off, and halloa and bawl at their shipmates to come and help them, but it was often long before their places were taken. On looking aloft he saw, too, that the masts were wounded in several places, and though the ship was placed in much greater peril by the way she had been knocked about, it was with no little satisfaction that he observed the battering she had received from the "Thisbe's" and "Concorde's" guns. Before long he encountered Mr Calder, whose eyes were engaged as his had been.

"What do you think, sir, of the state of affairs?" he asked.

"That they are as bad, Morton, as well can be," was the answer. "Neither captain nor officers know what they are about, and it will be a miracle if they do not cast the ship away."

"Of course they will," observed Rawson, who had just then joined them; "I said from the first that we should have no good luck, and what I said has come true."

"But other chaps among us said that we should have good luck," remarked Twigg, the master's assistant, who was always fond of putting Rawson in the wrong. "Now, you see, old fellow, it was just heads or tails--even, you'll understand--and as ill-luck would have it, you happened to win."

"It's the only thing I ever did win, then," answered poor Rawson, in a melancholy tone.

"Well, well, Rawson, the next time you prophesy ill, we'll all pray that you may prove a false prophet," observed Mr Calder. "But, my lads, it may before long be of very little consequence to most of us who is right and who is wrong; unless these Frenchmen are steering for some shelter, and know the coast perfectly, they will run us hard and fast on it before the world is many hours older."

Ronald on this said he would go and learn what he could from young Gerardin, who would probably be able to ascertain what the Frenchmen proposed doing.

Ronald found his way to the sick-bay, where Alfonse was in his cot, able to sit up and talk without difficulty.

"What we are going to do, you demand?" he answered. "Why, let the ship drive and go to destruction, for what I can tell; all on board seem to have lost their wits, from the captain downwards. They would pitch me out of the ship if they heard my remarks, so do not repeat them."

When Ronald returned on deck he found things in no way mended. The French crew appeared to be obeying their officers very slowly and unwillingly; indeed, the ship was already in a state of semi-mutiny. The officers, too, seemed to be issuing contradictory orders. Ronald saw them examining a chart, but it was evident from their gestures that they differed very much in opinion as to the course which should be steered. No decision was arrived at, and the ship drove onwards towards the coast of Finisterre.

There were harbours and shelter there in abundance; but judgment and good pilotage was required to take advantage of them, and these qualities were wanting on board the "Atalante."

The English officers stood grouped together, affording a strong contrast to their French captors. Mr Calder was cool and collected as ever.

"If the Frenchmen won't let us try and save the ship, we must do our best to save our lives," he remarked. "Remember, in the first place, let us all hold together and help each other. We may make a harbour and run no risk of losing our lives, or we may drive on the rocks and have a desperate struggle for them, but in either case, prisoners we shall remain, only in the last we shall have a better chance of making our escape in the end--let us keep that in view, whatever happens. Now, lads! there is the land; it won't be long before we become more nearly acquainted with it."

Rawson, Morton, and the rest promised implicitly to follow Mr Calder's directions. It was agreed that the instant the ship struck, Morton and Twigg should hasten down to release their own men below, and to tell them what had been resolved on. There was little doubt, even in the expected extremity, that they would willingly follow Mr Calder's directions.

"In ten minutes we shall know our fate," said Mr Calder, calmly watching the shore, towards which the helpless ship was rapidly driving.

It consisted of a sandy beach, the ground rising a little beyond it, with here and there a low building, and in the centre a ruined mill, or fort, or watchtower--it was difficult to say what.

The sandy beach might have offered some prospect that their lives would be preserved, but in front of it rose among the foaming breakers a line of dark rocks, and no break was perceived in them through which the ship might force her way.

"Few of those on board this ill-fated craft will see another day," observed Rawson, as he eyed the threatening coast. But he no longer spoke in a desponding tone; the moment of action was at hand, and such a prospect always roused him up.

"There's a fresh hand at the bellows, to help us along to our fate," he added. "Well, let it do its worst; Jack Rawson won't flinch as long as he has a head on his shoulders."

Morton was what is called constitutionally brave, and the calmness of his companions increased his courage. His friend, Dicky Glover, looked at him with admiration; Morton's bearing gave him confidence. If one who, so short a time before, was a ship's boy, was so cool and brave, of course he who was born a gentleman, and had long been a midshipman, ought to exhibit even more calmness and resolution. So in reality, at this trying moment, Glover appeared as much the hero as did Morton.

Mr Calder noted both of the lads, and his heart warmed with pride as he marked the courage of his young countrymen, though he grieved at the too great probability of their being cut off.

The greater number of the Frenchmen were all this time agitated in the greatest degree, each man following his own devices; the officers having lost all shadow of control. Some had hurried below to put on their best clothes, or to secure what valuables they possessed; others had broken into the spirit-room, and with cans and bottles in their hands, came reeling on deck, insisting on their officers drinking with them. Some were dancing furiously; others were singing at the top of their voices, but except a very few, no one was preparing for the inevitable catastrophe. More than half were below when it came.

"Secure that coil of rope, and hold on for your lives!" shouted Mr Calder.

The ship struck, the foremast instantly went by the board; the seas furiously dashed up the frigate's sides, and washed through her ports and over her deck. Each time she was struck, she shivered as if about to be wrenched asunder.

Numbers of the hapless crew were washed away. Men and officers shared the same fate; some were seen for a time struggling between the beach and the ship, but the cruel seas as they rushed back, carried them off, and hurled them among the dark rocks, where life was speedily crushed and washed out of them.

Ronald, Glover, and Twigg, as directed, had instantly the ship struck, hurried below to release their countrymen. The seamen, knowing what had happened, were making desperate efforts to get out of the hold in which they had been battened down. A capstan bar, which Morton and his companions found outside, enabled them to accomplish their object. The English seamen rushed upon deck, for the terrific sounds which reached their ears, and the fierce concussions the ship was receiving, warned that no time was to be lost, if they would preserve their lives.

Morton was hurrying up with the rest, when he recollected the wounded midshipman, Alfonse Gerardin.

"His countrymen won't help him, of that I am pretty certain, and I cannot leave the poor fellow to perish," he exclaimed to Glover, who was near him.

"I'll help you, whatever you do," answered Dicky Glover, who was as ready to do a good deed as a mischievous one, if it was suggested to him.

"So will I, Mr Morton," said a seaman who had kept by the two midshipmen from the moment he had got his liberty, and had moreover possessed himself of the capstan bar, to serve him as a trusty weapon in case of need.

"Thank you, friend Truefitt," said Morton: "come along."

Ronald was well pleased to get such an ally as honest Job Truefitt, for there was not among the crew of the "Thisbe" a better seaman or a more trustworthy, better-hearted fellow.

While the rest were rushing on deck, Ronald and his companions made their way along the deck to the sick-bay. Many of the wounded were calling on their shipmates to come to their assistance, and uttering imprecations fierce and terrible, when they found that they called in vain.

Gerardin was attempting to get up, but his strength failed him, and he lay back, his countenance betokening a proud resignation to his own fate, and scorn at the terror of the wretches who surrounded him.

"What!" he exclaimed, when he saw Morton and Glover with Job Truefitt, "have you Englishmen found time, amid all this confusion, to come and look after a wounded wretch like me; an enemy too--who has been taught with his utmost strength to hate the English?"

"We Englishmen have been taught to help our enemies in distress, mounseer," observed Job Truefitt, as, without waiting a moment to ask leave, he lifted the wounded lad on his shoulders. "There's no time for palavering. Come along, sirs."

The midshipmen sprang on, helping Job to support his burden, and they soon reached the upper-deck, when the scene of horror and confusion was indescribable! Not without difficulty, and in great danger of being washed off, they made their way to the after part of the quarter-deck, where Mr Calder, with the other Englishmen, were assembled.

The ship had driven with her larboard side to the shore, and as she heeled over they were partly sheltered from the force of the seas, which dashed in arches of foam high above her.

The English lieutenant and his party had made fast a cask to the end of the line they had secured, and were endeavouring to float it towards the shore, where three or four people stood ready to receive it. In vain they tried. Several times the cable got almost within their reach, and was carried back again with the reflux of the wave. Morton, however, observed to his satisfaction, that just at that part there were no rocks, and that the seas rushed on without any break till they reached the beach.

"If I could but do it," thought Morton to himself. "I have swum through some tolerably heavy seas on the Shetland coast."

He at once made the proposal to Mr Calder.

"Impossible!" was the answer. "You would be drowned, my boy, to a certainty."

"But I could do it, and whether I'm drowned or not, it matters little," exclaimed Job Truefitt. "Here, who'll take charge of this here young Frenchman?"

Rawson offered also to make the attempt, but he was known not to be a good swimmer.

A thundering crash was heard. It was the fall of the remainder of the foremast, and the breaking up of the fore part of the ship. It was a strong hint to the English party to hasten whatever they might undertake.

"You'll let me go, Mr Calder?" said Morton again.

He and Job Truefitt had secured some light line to the cask, which had just been hauled up. It was again lowered, and the lieutenant nodded his head, but his countenance was very sad, as if he had little hopes of the success of the expedition. The instant his permission was gained, Ronald and Job slid down the side of the ship, and were quickly borne on with the cask towards the shore. They both struck out bravely, and soon reached the cask. They had little at first to do, except to keep themselves afloat. All those who anxiously watched them, knew that the trial would come as they neared the beach, and got within the power of the under suck of the receding waves. At first they merely accompanied the cask, and supporting themselves by it, husbanded their strength.

"They will be lost to a certainty, I know," observed Rawson. "If they don't succeed, I don't know who will. I never saw a finer swimmer than that man Truefitt."

"Oh, I hope they will! I hope they will be saved!" cried Glover, in an agony of terror for Morton, who had inspired him with the sincerest affection.

"There they go! bravely they swim!" cried Mr Calder. "They are ahead of the cask--they dart forward--the undertow has got them. No!--they are struggling desperately with it--they don't lose ground--on they go!--No!"

There was a cry that the sea had carried them back, but the next moment their heads appeared on the top of a foaming sea, and on it rushed towards the beach.

Now was the critical moment. Their shipmates on board the wreck held their breath as they watched their progress. One was seen to rise up on the beach from out of a sheet of foam, and to hurry upwards; but there was only one. He did not stop a moment. Down he dashed again. He had a grasp of a rope, though the other end of which was held by the people on the shore.

Without hesitation, he plunged once more into the seething waters; he did not again appear--there was a cry of despair--all thought he was lost--but no--the next instant he was seen, and this time with a companion, and aided by the people, who were on the watch for them, they both together hurried up the beach, and the cask, with the line, was hauled up after them.

The great object was accomplished; a communication was secured with the shore. The passage, however, was still full of danger.

More line was procured. A traveller and slings were fitted, and Rawson volunteered to lead the way. Should he succeed, the passage would be somewhat less dangerous.

The people on shore now tightened the rope. He took a supply of line with which to haul the next person on shore. A shout from the English seamen proclaimed that he was successful.

It was now according to rule, under such circumstances, the privilege of the youngest to proceed. Dicky Glover was ordered into the slings.

"If I must go, may I take the young Frenchman?" he asked. "I know Morton would wish it."

"Yes, be sharp," answered Mr Calder, assisting himself to secure them both. Away they went on their perilous passage. It was near sun-down when the ship struck. It was now rapidly getting dark. What a night of horrors was there for those who were compelled to spend it on board the wreck.

When Dicky Glover had nearly reached the shore, the surf almost tore young Gerardin from the slings, and the hold he had of him. Almost hopelessly he struggled. In another instant they both would have been carried away, when Glover saw some one making his way through the foaming water towards him. A friendly hand grasped his, and in another minute he and his charge were hauled up out of the power of the sea.

Ronald Morton, with a rope round his waist, had been the means of rescuing him and Gerardin from death. Dicky began to thank him.

"Only obeying orders--helping each other," answered Ronald. "But lend a hand, Glover, we have plenty to do."

Morton and his companions became very anxious for the fate of their gallant superior. Had the frigate been his own ship, he would have been the last to leave the wreck; but now, having seen his own people on shore, he would have no hesitation in coming.

Ronald applied to Gerardin, but he could get no information from his confused countrymen as to what had become of the English lieutenant. The Englishmen, notwithstanding this, continued to assist energetically in hauling the people on shore. Each time a man reached the beach, they hailed him, hoping to find that he was their officer.

Suddenly, as they were hauling in on the line made fast to the traveller, the main line became slack: alas! all communication with the ill-fated ship was cut off.

"Haul on it, lads!" shouted Rawson and Morton in concert.

"It is heavy; there is some one on it," cried the men. "Steady, lads, steady."

Gradually they hauled in the line. The life of one more fellow-creature might be saved. They hauled away. Yes, a man was there! was he still alive, though?

They hailed as he neared them. An English voice answered, "All right, lads!" It was their own lieutenant. They welcomed him with a joyful shout, which showed that he had won the honest affections of his men, a prize worthy of an officer's aim.

"I had a struggle for it," he observed, as soon as he was somewhat recovered. "No sooner was I on the rope, than some of the wretches in their madness cut it, and have so lost all means of reaching the shore in safety. Still we will do what we can to help them."

The Englishmen kept to this resolution. With unceasing watchfulness they moved up and down along the beach, saving the lives of many who would otherwise have fallen victims to the waves.

The wearied seamen, their labours over, threw themselves on the sands to rest, scarcely allowing the thought to trouble them of what next they should do. They had not enjoyed many minutes' repose before they were roused up by a party of soldiers, who, without much ceremony, marched them all off to a tower in the neighbourhood, which Ronald recollected observing before the ship struck. Here, in spite of all Mr Calder's expostulations, they were locked up in an upper chamber without food or water, and left to their own devices.

It is not surprising if their remarks and reflections were not very complimentary to the people on whose shores they had been thrown. _

Read next: Chapter 18. Job's Plan For Escaping...

Read previous: Chapter 16. The "Thisbe's" Crew Prepare For A Fresh Fight

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