"This is indeed what I little expected," he exclaimed. "I am appointed as Lieutenant-Governor of Saint — in the West Indies. It is one of the most healthy of the islands. I have often been there; indeed, it is in consequence of my knowledge of the inhabitants that I have been selected; and you will all be able to accompany me."

This information, as may be supposed, caused a great deal of excitement in the family. As Captain Rymer was ordered to proceed at once, there was no time to be lost in making the necessary preparations. Their friends called to congratulate, and at the same time to express their regret at losing them. The Mortons, and poor Mrs Merryweather, would certainly miss them more than anybody else. Mary could not help looking forward with pleasure to the interesting places she would probably visit, and the new style of life she would have to lead; though she was very sorry to leave so many kind friends, and the attached servants, who could not accompany them. In those days outfits were not to be procured, nor other arrangements made, so rapidly as at present, and Captain Rymer found it impossible to be ready to sail in the ship appointed to carry him out. He had, therefore, to take his passage in a West India trader, to sail a few weeks later. The Betsy was a fine large ship, carrying guns, to enable her to defend herself against the pirates and small privateers, often no better, which at that time infested the Caribbean Sea, and especially on the Spanish main and round the coast of Cuba. The cabins of the Betsy, on board which many wealthy West India planters frequently came backwards and forwards, were for their accommodation fitted up in a style of luxury seldom found on board merchantmen in general. The Betsy put into Falmouth to take the family and their baggage on board. She then had to remain till joined by several other West India ships. Everything was then made ready for sailing, and a bright look-out was kept for another fleet, bound in the same direction, coming down channel under convoy of two men-of-war. They were at length descried, and the ships in Falmouth harbour immediately got under weigh, and stood out to join them. At that time, although most of the men-of-war carrying the flag of England's enemies had been swept from the seas, a large number of their privateers still remained to annoy and often injure her commerce. It was therefore not considered safe for merchantmen to sail without the protection of one or more men-of-war. Mary was delighted with the appearance of the cabins, so luxurious compared to what she had expected; and she was still more pleased when, on going on deck, she observed a large fleet of stately ships with which she was surrounded. The water was calm, the sky clear, and the sun shone brightly on the pyramids of white canvas towering up from the black, shining, freshly painted hulls which floated on the blue ocean in all directions. On the outskirts were the still more stately men-of-war, their bright-coloured signal flags continually moving up and down, while they occasionally fired a gun either on one side or the other, in rather a difficult attempt to keep their somewhat refractory charges on their proper course. Mary, after watching the manoeuvres of the men-of-war and the fleet of merchant vessels for some time, exclaimed—

"Why, papa, they put me in mind of a herd of cattle driven through the country, the drovers running here and there, shouting loudly, and sending their sharp barking dogs now to one side, now to the other, to keep them together."

"Not a bad idea, Mary," answered Captain Rymer. "But should thick weather come on, or a heavy gale spring up, the work will be much more difficult. Sometimes a whole herd, as you would call them, is scattered, and lions or wolves occasionally pounce down on the weakest, and carry them off."

"I hope that will not be our fate, papa," said Mary, timidly.

"No fear of that, dearest. I am sorry that I should have put such a notion into your head," answered Captain Rymer. "The Betsy is a well-found ship, well manned and well armed, and Captain Bolton has the character of being a first-rate seaman, so that we have every reason for expecting to arrive in safety at our destination."

"Oh, I am not at all afraid," said Mary. "Besides, you know, papa, we can pray to be protected; and what a comfort it is, and how brave it should make us, to know that God hears our prayers, and will grant them whenever He sees that to do so is best for us!"

What a support in daily life, what a consolation to the voyager over the stormy ocean, is a firm confidence in that glorious truth!



CHAPTER SIX.

ON THE RAFT—THE SHARK—THE SEA-FIGHT.

The raft still floated uninjured; the sea continued perfectly calm. Harry and David retained their health and spirits, hoping that they should reach the land at last; and the old man appeared to be steadily recovering. The calm tried them in one respect more than when the wind blew, because after the raft had been strengthened they had nothing to do. They talked of the past and of the future, but even friends cannot talk on all day, especially if they are hungry and thirsty, and are anxious about any matter. At last David recollected that they had taken some fishing lines and hooks out of the boat, and thrown them with other articles on the raft. They were soon discovered, and the lads flattered themselves that they had nothing more to do than to bait the hooks, if bait could be found, and to throw them overboard. Old Jefferies smiled when he saw their preparations, and told them that, although certain fish were to be caught occasionally in the open sea, the greater number were to be found along the coasts of the different countries of the world. "To my mind God has so ordered it that all the fish which best serve for the food of man swim round and round the coasts of the countries of the world, in shallow water, where they can be got at and caught, or else they visit certain known spots, like the banks of Newfoundland, or the fishing grounds in the North Sea. Now if they all lived in the deep seas, or kept wandering about to all parts just as fancy led them, fishermen would never know where to go and look for them. Instead of that, as I have said, as the seasons come round, God leads them to the same places and almost on the same day every year; and so the fisherman is prepared with his nets or lines to catch them. However, I don't mean to say that there are no fish out even in mid-ocean, and if we get our lines, perhaps we shall catch some."

The lines were fitted in different ways; one with a heavy lead that it might sink towards the bottom, the other to throw to a distance, and then to drag quickly back again. The chief difficulty was with regard to the bait. David, however, proposed using a piece of salt pork, though old Jefferies thought that no fish would bite at it.

"I'll try, at all events," he answered; and baiting his hook he threw it skilfully to a considerable distance. He tried over and over again till his arm grew tired, while Henry let his line down to its entire end, but neither of them got a bite.

"Very little use, I am afraid," said Harry, drawing up his line.

"Let it hang out, at all events. It can do no harm, and something may take a fancy to it," observed David, again throwing his own line. "Halloa! I have got something—a big fellow, too—he'll pull me off the raft if I don't take care. Lend a hand, Harry."

Harry took hold of the line. Now they were able to haul in some of the line, and then again the fish swam off in an opposite direction, actually moving the raft.

"It may be a porpoise," said Harry.

"Perhaps it is a shark!" exclaimed David. "It can't be a young whale."

"It is a big fish of some sort, of that there is no doubt," responded Harry. "The fellow will get tired before long, and then we will make him show his nose."

"If he does not cut through the line before that," observed old Jefferies, who would not pronounce as to what fish it was.

"If the line does not break I have little fear of its being cut through, for there is a long shank to the hook, and the line has never been slack," answered David, hauling in more of the line.

The fish, if such it was, at length began to grow weary of towing the raft, and allowed himself to be drawn nearer and nearer till his mouth was seen for an instant close to the surface.

"Ah! I know him," exclaimed old Jefferies. "A shark! a shark! he's as mischievous a fellow as any that swims, though he will hurt no one who does not put his hand down his mouth."

He explained that the fish they had hooked was the blue shark, which, although he does not attempt to take the fisherman's life, is yet one of his greatest foes. If he cannot bite through a line he often rolls it round and round himself in a way that is most difficult for the fisherman to undo; and sometimes he will swim among the nets, killing the fish in mere wantonness apparently, and biting the meshes. Now and then, however, he gets caught himself—a small satisfaction considering the damage he causes.

It took some time before his sharkship was wearied out, and when at length he was hauled up on the raft, it was found that he had contrived to wind several fathoms of the line round his body. From the line having been kept tight, it was not so cleverly twisted as is often the case, and a blow on the tail quieted him before he had managed further to wriggle it round himself after he was out of the water. When the line was unwound, and the shark stretched out, he was a handsome-looking fish of a blue lead colour, about four feet long. Harry and David did not feel disposed to eat any of the shark, but when assured by the old fisherman that neither he nor any of his ancestors had ever touched flesh, they got over their reluctance, and as their appetites told them it was dinner-time, they each took a thin slice with some biscuit. They agreed that when cooked it would be tolerable food.

After this meal David, having got his line in order, and both their lines being baited with shark, they commenced fishing. After some time Harry got a bite.

"A fine fish, I am sure, by the way he tugged," he exclaimed, hauling up the line.

It came up very easily, though, and instead of the large fish he expected, a small whiting appeared. Several others were pulled up in succession. As Harry was hauling in his line after a bite, he felt a heavy weight suddenly come on it. Still he was able to get it in.

"It is something curious, but what it can be I am sure I don't know," he exclaimed, hauling away, while David looked eagerly on.

"What a monster!" they cried out both together, when a huge mass, with what looked like a number of snakes wriggling about round it, was seen on the surface amidst a circle of dark water.

"That's a squid," remarked old Jefferies. "Some of them are awkward customers in the water, but he can do you very little harm out of it."

The truth of this last assertion was put to the test when, in spite of its struggles, the creature was hauled up on the raft, and its long arms chopped off. It had expected simply to catch a whiting, and had itself been caught by the hook sticking through the whiting's mouth. It was very untempting-looking for food, though they might have preferred it to shark flesh. The whiting, however, supplied them with as much fish as they could eat raw. Altogether they agreed that they had had a good evening's sport, and that if they could have forgotten where they were, and that their friends were anxious about them, they should have enjoyed themselves amazingly, only that they should have preferred cooked fish to raw. As night, however, crept on, they began to feel the loneliness and helplessness of their position. Still, the calm continued, and the stars shone forth, each spark of light being reflected in the mirror-like ocean; and Harry made out the polar star, and wished that there was a good breeze that they might steer by it towards England. The air was very chilly, but as they had saved several blankets, they wrapped themselves up, and kept tolerably warm. As they had not got a lantern or candle, or any means of striking a light, they could do nothing, and so they chatted away till they both went off to the land of dreams.

"Sleep on, my poor lads," said the old man, guessing by their silence what had happened. "You little think of the danger you are in. If a gale springs up, how is this small raft to weather it? For myself, I am worn out, and my time must come in a year or two, or a few months it may be; but life is fresh and pleasant for the young lads. Well, well, God is kind and just. He knows what is best for them. His will be done."

The lives of most men are metaphorically varied by storms and calms, clouds and sunshine, and so in reality was the existence of our two young friends on the raft. The night passed away quietly, and towards morning the old man, in spite of his intentions to keep watch, fell asleep. David was the first to rouse up. The sun had not risen, but a streak of red in the sky showed in what quarter he was about to appear. David stood up to look around him. He would not call Harry till it was necessary, for he was sleeping so calmly, with a smile on his countenance, dreaming of some pleasant scenes at home, probably with his mother and sister present. As David was thus standing up, holding on to the mast, he felt a light air fan his cheek. It came from the south. He turned his eyes in that direction to look for a further sign of the wished-for breeze. As he did so he observed in the horizon a sail—he judged a large ship. Directly afterwards another appeared, in a different part of the horizon. He watched them attentively for some time. Their sails were filled with wind, and they seemed to be drawing nearer to each other, and also nearer to the raft. As soon as it struck David that this was the case, he could no longer resist the temptation of rousing up his companion. Harry sprang to his feet. Midshipmen do not rub their eyes and yawn, and groan and growl, before they get up, especially if they happen to be sleeping on a raft in the chops of the channel.

"Yes, they are standing this way," he exclaimed. "They are frigates, and what is more, though one is English, I doubt by the cut of the sails whether the other is."

"At all events we shall have a good chance of being picked up," said David.

"I hope so; but if an idea which has struck me is correct, they will have too much to do to look after each other to take any notice of us," observed the midshipman.

"What do you mean?" asked David.

"That one is English and the other French, and if so, it is not likely that, having come in sight of each other, they will part without exchanging shots," remarked Harry.

"Unless the Frenchman runs away," said David.

"No fear of that. The monsieurs are brave fellows, though we can lick them, and it is not often they show the white feather," remarked Harry. "I really think that I am right. They look to me like two frigates, and one I am sure is French. We'll rouse up the old man, and hear what he has to say about the matter. He'll not thank us for letting him sleep on."

"The old man is awake," said Jefferies, sitting up and gazing in the direction indicated by the boys, under his open hand. For some time he was silent. "Yes, there's little doubt about the matter," he said at length. "They are frigates, and one is English; the other is a foreigner, but whether Spaniard, Dutchman, or French, is more than I can say. If they are going to fight, as you think, we can't help it, neither can we make them sail near enough to see us, and pick us up; but I'll tell you what we can do, young gentlemen, we can lift up our voices in prayer to God to thank Him for His favours, and to ask Him for His protection."

All three knelt down, and lifted up their voices to God in prayer, with a heartiness which might be sought for in vain within the lofty walls of many a proud building. Such is the spiritual worship in which God the Spirit alone has pleasure. The party on that wave-tossed raft rose from their knees greatly refreshed in spirit, and sat down to enjoy their morning meal with hearts grateful that they had food sufficient to sustain life. Soon after, the sun rose, as it were with a spring out of his ocean bed, and shed his light across the expanse of waters on the sails of the approaching ships, which seemed to have drawn suddenly near, so clear and defined did their forms become. Harry watched with even greater eagerness than before one of the ships, which he declared was, he believed, that to which he belonged. David was rather inclined to laugh at the notion, as he considered that it was impossible Harry should be able to know his own ship at so great a distance off. There seemed to be no doubt that both were frigates—of that the old man expressed himself sure; that they were not both English he thought very likely. As to the other point, it was, if correct, a guess of Harry's. They continued to draw nearer and nearer to each other, and as they approached the raft at the same time, the breeze which filled their sails reached her.

"Shall we hoist our sails, and stand for the shore as before?" asked David.

"We should miss the chance of being picked up if we did so," answered Harry. "Besides, I should not like to run away without knowing after all whether the ships would fight, and who was the conqueror."

"Not much chance of our getting out of sight before they begin, for they are already not far off gun-shot of each other," observed the old man, who again raised himself to look out, but sunk down once more to his seat in the centre of the raft.

The two boys, however, stood up, holding on by the mast, in spite of the increasing rocking of the raft, watching eagerly the movements of the two frigates—for frigates there was no doubt they both were.

"Up go the colours!" exclaimed Harry, with a shout. "Hurrah! There's the glorious old flag of England, and the other is French—there's no doubt about it. Then there'll be a fight. Hurrah! I wish I was aboard the old ship; I'm sure it's her. Couldn't we manage it even now? Pull the raft up to her. I wish that she would see us and pick us up. Oh dear! how provoking! I'd give anything to be on board!" Such were the exclamations to which the young midshipman gave utterance, as he stood watching the ships. "The old ship has tacked, she is standing away from us! The Frenchman is about also. They'll be away. We shall not see any of the fighting after all."

"We shall be less likely to suffer from their shots, and for that we may be grateful," observed the old man.

The midshipman, so eager was he, scarcely listened to what was said. The frigates were manoeuvring, each endeavouring to gain the weather-gauge before commencing the action, which it was very evident would take place. There appeared to be no lack of a disposition to fight on either side, for they both took in their lighter sails, and finally hauled up their courses. Now the English frigate wore round, her example being followed by the Frenchman, both running back towards the raft, which it seemed that the former would pass by, or even run over, when suddenly she tacked, and standing close to a wind towards the French frigate, fired a broadside into her quarter, while the latter was in stays. The effect of the broadside must have been severe, for it was some time before she actually got about, leaving to the English frigate the advantage of the weather-gauge, which had been the object of all the previous manoeuvres. For some time the two ships ran on alongside of each other, rapidly exchanging shots, without any great apparent damage to the masts or rigging. They were so placed that many of the shots which missed came flying towards the raft, but providentially she was too far off for them to reach her. Once more the after-yards of the French ship being shot away, she kept off the wind, and, followed by her antagonist, stood towards the raft, still keeping up a hot fire at her. In a short time the damage was repaired, and once more the French ship hauling her wind, the two stood on together close-hauled. It was evident, from the rapid way in which the French frigate's damages had been repaired, that she was well manned, and that the result was by no means so certain as Harry had at first anticipated. The firing had had the effect, it appeared, of lessening the little wind there had previously been. The two frigates, therefore, moved but slowly, and consequently kept within sight of those on the raft. Harry was almost too eager to speak. David now and then made a few remarks. More than an hour had passed away since the commencement of the action, and as yet there was no visible advantage gained by either party. Suddenly Harry gave a cry of anger and annoyance, in which David joined him. The old man looked up. There was cause for it. The flag of England was seen to drop from the masthead of the frigate. Could it be that she had struck? The firing continued as furious as ever. No, it was impossible!

"See! see! there's another flying out!" exclaimed the midshipman, exultingly. "All right, some fine fellow has climbed up and nailed it there. Only the halliards were shot away. My captain would go down sooner than strike; I know that."

The loud reports of the guns came succeeding each other rapidly over the calm ocean. Now a loud crash, then a broadside was fired by both parties at once, the sound of the different guns blending into one; now a perfect silence, and then again single shots, and after a cessation another broadside. At length the combatants scarcely moved, and became enshrouded in a dense cloud of smoke, which nearly concealed them from view. The firing was more furious than ever. They were yard-arm to yard-arm, discharging their broadsides into each other. A light breeze played over the water—the ships emerged from the cloud of smoke. The English frigate had lost her mizen-mast, and its wreck lay over her quarter.

Harry groaned, but directly afterwards he shouted, "They'll not give in, though—they'll not give in, I am sure they won't."



CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE UNION JACK BEATS—THE RAFT STILL UNSEEN—THE PRIVATEER—DEATH OF OLD JEFFERIES—THE FRENCH CAPTAIN.

The loss of her mizen-mast did not appear to damp the ardour of the British frigate's crew. The firing was continued with unabated fury on both sides, neither ship apparently moving through the water; now they were shrouded in smoke—now the smoke was blown away, and the firing ceased. "The Frenchman's foremast is tottering!" shouted Harry. "See! see! David. Down it comes—hurrah! hurrah!" Still the flags of their respective countries waved at the mastheads of the frigates. The mast did not come down either when Harry thought it would, neither did the firing cease altogether. Faint sounds of musketry or pistol-shots came across the water—then three or four great guns were fired—the sides of the ships were close together, or rather, the bow of the English frigate was fast to the Frenchman's side.

"They are boarding," cried Harry; "I know it must be that—then our fellows will win the day.—The Frenchman's flag will be down directly. Watch! watch! I know it will."

They waited eagerly, looking out for some time. Suddenly a cloud of smoke ascended from one of the ships. It was difficult to say from which; again and again the guns were fired. "I am afraid that after all our friends are getting the worst of it," remarked David, with a sigh.

"Oh, no, no! impossible!" exclaimed Harry. "See, see! down comes the Frenchman's flag—hurrah! hurrah! I knew it would be so. Englishmen are never licked. We would go down first with our colours flying. Hurrah! hurrah! we've gained the day." Harry waved his cap above his head, and shouted long and loudly, communicating his enthusiasm, not only to David, but to the old man himself; but so vehement in his demonstrations of joy did he become at last, that he nearly upset the raft, and then well-nigh fell overboard himself. David was rather more quiet in his demonstrations, still he did not feel less satisfaction probably than his friend.

"We must get on board to congratulate them," exclaimed Harry; "I wouldn't miss that on any account; if we pull hard we shall be able to get up to them—eh, Mr Jefferies? They will be some time repairing damages and shifting the prisoners, and they are not likely to make sail till then."

"We mustn't count too much upon that, young gentleman; we are further off than you think, and darkness will be down over the ocean long before we can get up to them. Besides, do you know, I don't think the sights aboard those ships, either the conqueror or the conquered, would be so pleasant as you suppose. I know what a man-of-war is after a hard-fought battle. The decks strewn with the dead, and slippery with blood and gore, the cockpit full of wounded men, lately strong and hardy, now cripples for life, many dying, entering into eternity, without a hope beyond their ocean grave, Christless, heathens in reality if not in name, stifled groans and sighs, and oftentimes shrieks of despair on every side. Such sights I have seen in my youth, and I speak the language of some of the great preachers who have come down to these parts, and boldly put forth the gospel of salvation to perishing sinners under the blue vault of heaven. You only look at one side of the picture, and that quickly vanishes away; mine, unhappily, is too real to be wiped out quickly." The old man spoke in a tone he had not hitherto used, which showed that his education had been superior to that which men of his vocation generally possess.

This remark, it must be confessed, considerably damped the ardour of the young midshipman. The latter, however, still continued to urge him and David to try and get on board one of the ships. They were in reality as anxious as he was to do so, for they could not but feel that they were exposed to many dangers while they remained on the raft. The wind had dropped, and in one respect this was in their favour, as the frigates could not sail away; but what little wind there was was against them, and this made rowing their heavy craft more tedious. They progressed very slowly, and after two hours' hard rowing they seemed no nearer than before. The day was drawing on; still they persevered. Hope continued to cheer the two boys, whatever the old man might have thought about the matter. At last Harry stopped. "They are making sail, and the breeze is getting up. Oh dear! oh dear! They'll be off before we can reach them. Still we'll try—pull away, David, pull away, there's a good fellow."

All the efforts of the lads brought them no nearer the two frigates. They could see the British ensign run up above that of the French. Still it was evident that they themselves were not observed: no wonder, under the circumstances, as everybody on board must have been busily engaged. Still thus, as it were, to be deserted, was very trying to the young lads. They bore up, however, manfully under the disappointment.

"Perhaps the wind may fall or shift again, and they may have after all to take a tack this way," exclaimed Harry, whose hopeful enthusiasm it was impossible to damp. At last the night returned, and the darkness shut out the frigates from their sight. The lads had to while away the time by conversation, and expressed their intentions of not going to sleep during the night; they, however, stowed themselves away in their accustomed places, where, should they by any chance begin to slumber, they might not run the risk of falling into the sea. For some time they kept to this resolution, Harry still buoyed up with the hope that they might get on board the frigate in the morning. At last David's voice began to get very drowsy, so even did Harry's, and in spite of their strange position and their anxiety, first one and then the other dropped off to sleep. The old man leaned forward to ascertain that they were both secure.

"Sleep on, lads! sleep on!" he muttered. "He who reigns above can alone tell whether or not this is the last night you will spend on earth. I liked not the look of the sky when the sun went down, and before many hours have passed this frail raft may be tossing on an ocean of foaming seas." The old man was silent, but he did not sleep. Often he prayed. He thought over many things of his past life, as men under such circumstances are apt to do. Happy are those who have not to reflect on crimes committed, injuries done to others too late to remedy! and still more fearful must be the thoughts of those who are not trusting to the perfect and complete sacrifice offered on Calvary—whose sins have not been washed away in the blood of the Lamb. The old man knew in whom he trusted, and no bitterness entered his thoughts. The hours passed on; stars became obscured; clouds were seen chasing each other across the dark sky, slowly at first, then more and more rapidly; the raft began to rock, scarcely perceptibly, then gently, then with more and more movement, but the boys slept on; accustomed to spend their time on the heaving wave, they did not feel the motion. At length a grey cold light began gradually to steal over the foam-covered ocean. The boys still slept on. The old man alone was awake on the raft. He lifted himself up, and bent forward as if in prayer. Thus he remained for some time. At length David, less accustomed to the sea than Harry, awoke from the motion of the raft. The exclamation to which he gave utterance aroused his companion; David quickly started to his feet, and gazed anxiously around the horizon. The two frigates had disappeared. No sail was in sight; nothing was to be seen but the heavy leaden-coloured waves, while the clouds seemed to come closely down on all sides. The raft drove quickly on before the storm.

"In what direction are we going?" asked David.

"To the south-west, I have an idea," answered Harry; "but I should not mind that, if I thought we were likely to fall in with the two frigates."

"Trust in God, my lads," said old Jefferies.

He spoke truly; for already the raft gave signs of breaking up, from the violence to which it had been exposed. The old man and the two boys did all they could to secure it more strongly by such ropes as they still had to spare, but it was difficult and dangerous to move from their positions. The seas followed rapidly, and more than once had almost broken over them. Still, while their mast stood, and they could keep their sail set, they hoped to continue running before the sea. They spoke but little to each other, and continued looking out on either side, in the hope of seeing some vessels which might afford them a refuge. Still none appeared. The old man continued steering the raft with great judgment and dexterity, but it was clear that the gale was increasing, and that in a very short time the frail structure on which they floated could not hold together amidst the fierce waves to which it would be exposed. Still, serious as was their position, the boys did not forget that they had had nothing to eat since the previous night. Harry dived down into their provision-box, and produced some biscuits and a piece of tongue. Their first care was to offer some to the old man.

"No, thank you, good lads, I've no hunger," he answered.

In spite of their pressing, he refused to take any of the food.

"I can't say that I'm not hungry," cried Harry, "though I'm afraid we must go without our tea."

David, who felt something like old Jefferies, when pressed, however, by Harry, gladly joined him in discussing such provisions as they could easily get at. Both of them were much refreshed by the nourishment, and in spite of the foreboding looks of the old man could not help holding sanguine hopes of escaping from their perilous position. Still they were hoping against hope, for in spite of the additional lashings they had cast round their raft, first one piece of plank and then another was torn off.

"Hold on tight!" cried Harry, as he gazed astern, "here comes a tremendous sea, and I don't know how we shall keep before it."

As he spoke a high foaming wave came roaring up. Already the raft was mounting a wave in front, or the consequences would have been more disastrous. The upper part of the sea broke completely over the raft, but it still floated on. Those on it looked anxiously round to see if any of their number were missing. The old man was still at his post at the helm, and the two boys at their places. It was evident, however, that a few more such seas would utterly destroy the raft. As Harry again gazed astern, he saw to his dismay many similar seas preparing to follow; still he would not say this, even to David, and tried in his own hearty way to keep up his companions' spirits. An hour or so thus passed away, when the raft gave stronger signs than ever of not having power to hold together.

"How fearful it would be if we were separated!" said David, who clearly comprehended what was likely to happen. Just then another tremendous sea came rolling up, and washed over the raft. The boys clung on for their lives, but when the raft once more rose to the surface, the mast was gone.

"No hope, I fear," said David.

"Yes, there is!" cried Harry; "I see a vessel bearing down directly for us."

The boys eagerly turned their eyes towards the stranger. It seemed doubtful, however, whether the raft would hold together till her arrival, or whether they could avoid being washed off the raft by the sea, which kept continually rolling over them. On she rapidly came.

"I don't much like her appearance," said the old man; "she doesn't look much better than the craft which we before refused to go on board."

"We have no choice at all," said Harry. "She looks like a Frenchman; but even the Monsieurs, considering our circumstances, would not treat us otherwise than with kindness," said David.

The boys waved and shouted with all their might. It seemed doubtful whether or not they were observed; still the stranger, a large topsail schooner, was standing directly for them. Presently they saw her shorten sail.

"All right!" cried Harry; "we're seen."

She rounded-to close to them, so close, indeed, that the two boys were able to grasp the ropes which were thrown to them, and were immediately hauled up on deck.

"But old Jefferies, we mustn't desert him!" cried Harry, as he saw the old man still on the raft. "Here! fasten this rope round my waist, and I'll go and haul him in."

The crew of the stranger seemed to understand him, but at that moment a sea rolling up drove the raft completely under the schooner's bottom. A few fragments again appeared, but the old man was not to be seen.

"Oh, where is he? where is he?" cried David and Harry; "we must save the good old man."

The people on board looked round on every side. So deep was the grief of the boys for his loss, that they scarcely for the moment seemed to think of their own preservation, nor of the character of the vessel on board which they had got. It was very clear that the old man had sunk for ever, as no signs of him appeared. Once more the vessel was put before the wind, and flew onward on her course.

Harry and David, on looking round, observed she was an armed vessel, carrying sixteen long guns, with swivels and other pieces. From the language they heard spoken by the crew, they knew she was French; while, from the varied dresses of the men and officers, they suspected she was a privateer, and not a man-of-war.

"I'm afraid we shall not much like our quarters here," said Harry. "The best thing we can do is to put a good face on the matter, and go aft and thank the captain for saving our lives; he will see by my uniform that I am an officer, and treat us as gentlemen."

Poor Harry's patch of white cloth, however, was not likely to be treated with much respect by a French privateer captain of those days.

"I wonder which of these fellows is captain," said Harry, as they approached three or four rough-looking fellows, as they were walking the deck with the air of officers. "Oh, I wonder whether they will understand English, for not a word of French can I speak."

"Nor can I indeed," said David; "I didn't think of that."

"We must make our intentions known, however," said Harry, "and I must muster up what I can say. I know they always begin by saying 'Monsieur' if they want to be polite, so I'll say 'Monsieur Captain, Monsieur Captain,'" looking round as he spoke, "we have to thank you for taking us aboard your vessel, and should be still further obliged if you could give us a change of clothes while ours are drying."

The Frenchmen looked at the boys with an air of indifference.

"Monsieur Captain," again began Harry, "I say we want to thank you for pulling us out of the water."

"Perhaps the captain is not among these men," suggested David.

"I want to see the captain," said Harry, bowing as before.

At length a small wizen-faced man appeared from below. His countenance wore anything but a pleasant aspect. By his dress, and the respect with which the others seemed to treat him, the boys had little doubt that he was the person of whom they were in search. They accordingly approached him.

"Are you the captain?" said Harry, bowing as before, for he did not forget his politeness, in spite of his wet clothes.

"Yes, I am," said the wizen-faced man.

"Oh, you speak English; how glad we are!" answered Harry, "because we can thus thank you for saving our lives."

"No great reason to thank me," said the man, in an unpleasant tone.

"You speak English very well, sir," said Harry, wishing to soothe him.

"I have had plenty of time to learn it," said the captain.

"Where was that, sir?" asked Harry.

"In an English prison," answered the Frenchman, with a grin, turning on his heel; "and I've no great cause to love those who kept me there, or their countrymen."

"I'm afraid we've gained very little by the expression of our gratitude," said David; "what are we to do?"



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE GOOD-NATURED SEAMEN—PIERRE LAMONT—DAVID'S EMPLOYMENT—THE REPUBLICAN OFFICER.

No one seemed disposed to pay the slightest attention to the two boys. The officers glanced at them superciliously. The captain, after taking a few turns on deck, scowled on them as he passed on his way below. They were left standing on the deck of the schooner, which went flying on before the still increasing gale. They were wet and cold, and grieving for the loss of their old friend, as well as very anxious about the sorrow their absence would cause their relatives at home.

"I suppose the Frenchmen won't let us starve altogether," said David. "The officers indeed don't seem inclined to treat us well, but perhaps the men may be differently disposed. I propose that, having done what we considered our duty, we go forward and throw ourselves upon their kindness. Still, as I'm a quarter-deck officer, we ought to be treated with respect by the officers. I'm sure, if we had picked up two French midshipmen on board our frigate, we should have made regular pets of them, and given them no cause to complain."

"But remember this is not a frigate," observed David; "I think it will be wiser to put our dignity in our pockets, and make the best of things as they are."

Still Harry held out for some little time; but at length the surly looks of the officers, not to mention his hunger, made him yield to David's suggestions, and they quietly worked their way forward. As soon as the backs of the officers were turned the men came round them, and by the expression of their countenances showed that they at least bore them no ill-will. One or two, by signs, invited them below, and they were very glad to escape from the cold autumn gale which was blowing through their wet clothes. Although unable to communicate by words, the lads had no difficulty in making their wishes known to the Frenchmen by signs. Some dry clothes were quickly produced from the bag of a young seaman. As soon as Harry and David had dressed themselves in these, some provisions and a bottle of wine were brought to them, the Frenchmen standing round looking on with great satisfaction while they discussed them.

"Buvez, me amis," said a stout good-natured looking seaman, pouring out a glass of claret. The boys guessed by his signs clearly enough what he said, and thanked him by nodding in return. They both felt considerably better for their repast.

"If it wasn't for the loss of poor old Jefferies, I should not have minded it at all," said David; "but for him to lose his life, and for us to find ourselves little better than prisoners on board a Frenchman, is very trying."

"As you remember, nearly his last words were, 'Trust in God,'" remarked Harry; "so let us go on trusting; he was a good old man, and is gone to heaven I'm sure, so we ought not to mourn for him much. It would have broken his heart to find himself on board this vessel."

"I wonder in what direction we are going?" said David.

"I will try and get a look at the compass when we go on deck again, but we mustn't let the Frenchmen think we care anything about the matter," said Harry.

"What a pity it is we can't talk French a little! I wish we could thank these kind, good-natured fellows, because really I am very grateful for their kindness to us."

"At all events, we can do it by signs," said Harry, jumping up and shaking the Frenchman by the hand who had given them the wine.

"Much obliged, monsieur; much obliged for your good dinner; the sausages were excellent. We don't often taste such claret at sea as you gave us."

Of course, though the Frenchman did not understand a word Harry had said, yet he was evidently in the way of becoming a favourite among them. When invited to return on deck they did not hesitate to do so, for by keeping forward they were not recognised among the French crew. In the evening they were again invited to join the mess of the men below, which, if not quite in accordance with English notions, was not quite the wretched fare on which Frenchmen are supposed to exist. Indeed, it must be owned that the provisions were far better cooked and made into more palatable messes than they would have been on board an English vessel of the same character. At night they had a berth allotted to them in a standing bed-place forward, into which they were too glad to creep. Having thanked the God of mercy who had thus preserved them, in a prayer which came from the very bottom of their hearts, and asked for a blessing on all those they had left at home, they lay down in their narrow berth, and stowed themselves away as well as space would allow. They had reason to be thankful that they had escaped the perils to which they had been exposed for so many nights on the raft; and though their sleeping-place was very close and dark, it had the advantage of being dry. They were very quickly fast asleep, in spite of all the rolling and pitching of the vessel, as she dashed forward across the stormy ocean. There was no danger of their being pitched out. In spite of the groaning of the bulkheads, the whistling of the wind through the rigging, the loud dash of the seas against the vessel, and the numerous other loud wild sounds which are heard during a gale at sea, the boys slept on till a gleam of daylight found its way down to their narrow berth.

"Mangez, mangez, mes amis!" said a voice, which was recognised as that of their kind friend of the previous evening. He had come, it appeared, to summon them to breakfast, for the crew were employed below in discussing that meal. Once on their feet, the boys found themselves perfectly ready to join their French friends, and to do ample justice to the food placed before them.

"If it were not for the dignity of the thing we should not be so badly off, after all," said Harry; "but really I cannot quite get over the skipper not treating us as officers, as he should have done."

The Frenchmen greeted them with kind smiles, and soon again reconciled them to their wretched fate.

The gale now increased to a regular hurricane. The schooner ran before it under a close-reefed fore-topsail, but even then the seas followed so rapidly that there appeared great probability of their breaking on board. Both officers and men either remained below, or, when necessity compelled them to be on deck, kept close to the bulwarks, that they might have something to catch hold of should an accident occur. Under these circumstances no work was expected to be done; the boys were therefore allowed to do just as they pleased. They wisely kept forward among their friends the seamen. They had observed a boy about their own age eyeing them occasionally as he passed sometimes with a dish from the cook's caboose, or with various messages with which he seemed to be generally employed; yet he had not hitherto spoken to them.

"I like his looks," said David; "I can't help fancying that he wants to be friendly. Next time he passes us I will say something to him; or see, I've got a knife in my pocket; I'll present it to him, it will show our good-will."

"That will be very much like purchasing kindness," answered Harry.

In a few minutes after this the boy again came near.

"Here, garcon," said David, pulling out his knife as he spoke, "take this, you may find it very useful."

"Merci," said the boy, "thank you—much obliged."

"What! do you speak English?" asked David.

"Very little, but I know what you say."

"Oh, we're so glad of that," exclaimed the two boys in the same breath.

"What is your name?" asked David.

"Pierre Lamont," answered the French boy.

"We shall be friends," said David. "You don't hate the English, I hope, like the captain?"

"Oh no, no," answered Pierre, "I love the English; my poor mother was English, but she is dead, and so is my father, but he was French."

"Then have you no one to look after you?" exclaimed David, in a tone of commiseration.

"No, I am all alone in the world, no one to care for me," said Pierre.

"Are you happy here on board this ship?" asked Harry.

"Oh no, no. Sometimes I am pretty well off; but often our cruel men order me about, and beat me with the rope's-end if I do not do quickly what they command."

"You see, Harry," said David, "there's one on board this ship worse off than we are. We have some dear friends on shore, and though they don't know what has become of us, we hope that they are are safe, and that we shall get back to them some day."

"Do you know where we're going, Pierre?" asked Harry. "I wanted to look at the compass; but I'm afraid of going aft, lest I should meet the captain."

"You are right to keep away from him," answered Pierre. "If he knew even that I spoke English he would treat me worse than he does. But you ask where are we going. I believe that we're bound out to the West Indies to take as many English merchant-vessels as we can find."

"I thought we were going in that direction," answered David.

"But, Pierre, do you think if any of the English vessels are defended, that the captain will make us fight against our own countrymen?"

"Oh, you may depend on that," said Pierre. "That is, you will be employed in bringing up powder from below."

"What! shall we be turned into powder-monkeys?" exclaimed Harry, in a tone of indignation. "That will be too bad."

"Is that what you call the boys who bring up the powder?"

"Yes, but only the smallest among the ship's crew are employed in that work, and they should not treat officers in that way, even though we are their enemies," exclaimed Harry, indignantly.

"That is the very reason the captain will take delight in giving you such employment," said Pierre. "No one likes him on board. Even the officers fear him; but he is said to be a very good seaman and a daring character, so brave that he cares for nothing."

From this account of the captain the boys saw that they were not far wrong in the opinion they had formed of him from his countenance and his manner towards them. They resolved, therefore, to keep out of his way, and to avoid irritating him if they could. While the gale continued he had quite enough to do to look after the vessel without troubling himself about them. Indeed, as far as they could judge, he had forgotten that they were on board. Although the place below where they sat with the men was close and dark in consequence of being battened down, they spent much of their time there. Many of the men were employed in various works. Several were making models of vessels in a way few English seamen could have done. David proposed doing something of the sort, to show the Frenchmen that he did not wish to be idle, and that he felt himself at home among them. He asked Pierre to get him some corks, and to set to work to make a model of a village church. This, with the aid of some pins, he rapidly accomplished with a file which he borrowed from one of the men, and he drew down the warm commendations of his companions, who were especially well disposed to appreciate such efforts. He accordingly presented it to his stout friend, Jacques Rossillion, the good-natured seaman who had from the first taken an interest in him.

Thus several days passed away till the gale abated, the sea went down, and sail was once more made on the schooner. Harry had been perhaps unwisely anxious to put on his own uniform again, which was now thoroughly dry and fit to wear. Pierre advised him not to appear before the captain in it. "Still it's my proper dress," answered Harry, who, like many midshipmen, was very tenacious on that subject. The gale, which had been in their favour, had carried them a long way towards their destination, as they judged by the warmth of the atmosphere and the tropical appearance of the sea. The officers as usual paced the quarter-deck, and the men congregated together forward. A monkey, which had hitherto stowed himself away somewhere out of sight, was among the occupants of the deck. To an English crew a monkey is a great acquisition, but a French ship's company can scarcely get on without one. When they are inclined to play pranks he is always at their service, and woe betide the unhappy small boy of a ship's company on whose muster-roll a monkey is not to be found! as he has to endure what the four-handed animal would otherwise have to go through.

On looking over the side Harry observed a black fin gliding along at the same rate as the schooner. "Look there, David; did you ever see a regular shark before?" he said. "If anybody was to fall overboard that fellow would snap him in two in half a second. The best swimmer would have but a poor chance unless he was well prepared. I have heard of a sailor attacking a shark with a knife in his hand, and cutting him up; but a man only with iron nerves and great presence of mind and a good swimmer could ever make the attempt." While they were speaking the captain appeared on deck. "Here, you boys, come aft," he shouted. "What, do you think you are to pass away your time in idleness, and get fed and grow fat? You are very much mistaken if you think any such thing. Take each of you a tar-bucket, and go and black down the rigging from the fore-topmast head." Poor Harry looked at his uniform; it had endured the wetting, but it would be spoiled in a few minutes by the operation which he was ordered to perform. He saw that it would not do to disobey the captain's orders. If they had time to find Pierre they might borrow some frocks and canvas trousers.

"I say what I mean," shouted the captain; "and off with you at once—one taking the starboard, and one the larboard rigging. What, you don't like to spoil your clothes, I see. I was not allowed any clothes to spoil when I was in an English prison."

"Surely you will let us borrow some frocks, sir," answered David. "Though we are gentlemen, and unaccustomed to such work, we are willing to obey you, only we don't want to spoil our clothes."

"Aloft, I say, or overboard you go. There's a fellow alongside ready to breakfast off you, if you are anxious to feed him." The little Frenchman looked so fierce that the boys really believed he was in earnest.

"It can't be helped," said David. "You must tell me what to do, for I never blacked down rigging even on board the yacht."

"Just secure the bucket as you descend, and take care not to let the tar drop from the brush on deck. It's not the difficulty of the thing, but it is very derogatory."

Seeing that there was no use in further expostulation, the boys took each of them a bucket as they were ordered, and ascended, one on one side, and one on the other, of the fore-rigging, and having reached the masthead Harry secured his bucket, and showed David how to secure his. The operation, besides being a very dirty one, was tedious, as each rope had to be gone carefully round with the tar. Often they made melancholy faces at each other as they gradually descended, but neither the captain nor officers showed the slightest commiseration, only watching apparently to see that the work was effectually performed. While the captain remained on deck the crew took no notice of them. This was, however, evidently done in kindness. At length the work was over, and, seeing the captain on deck, they thought the best way was to go aft and report what they had done. "Very well," said the captain; "tomorrow you will black down the main-rigging; in the meantime I want to see a polish put upon those brass stanchions, and the swivel guns are not so bright as they should be. I shall have work for you in my cabin, too, by and by. You are young English gentlemen, I understand. You may consider it a privilege to have to serve a poor republican seaman, who has worked his way up from before the mast."

"We will do our best to obey you, sir," answered David, who wisely wished to conciliate the man, in spite of his surly manners. He remembered that "a soft answer turneth away wrath."



CHAPTER NINE.

THE PRISONERS HAVE TO WORK—THE CHASE—THE MERCHANT SHIP IS TAKEN—THE BOYS FIND THEIR FRIEND CAPTAIN RYMER AND MARY—THE HURRICANE.

Next morning, as soon as the boys appeared on deck, the captain again called them aft.

"Aloft with you, lads, and black down the main-rigging," he exclaimed as they approached him, looking more humble even than they felt. Knowing, however, that there was no use in refusing to do what they were ordered, Harry and David took up the buckets to which the captain pointed, and ascended as before.

"We must look out not to drop any tar on deck," said Harry, "he will make it an excuse to give us a rope's-ending if we do; I'm sure he means mischief."

The boys soon gained the masthead, and began their very disagreeable task. The sun was extremely hot; the ship rolled slowly from side to side as she glided on before the wind. Poor David felt very sick and wretched; more than once he thought he must give in, but Harry cheered him by exclaiming—

"Let us show that we are Englishmen, and at all events that we are not to be daunted by any work these Frenchmen can give us."

Thus encouraged, David, who really had as much spirit as Harry, determined to persevere. The work, however, progressed more slowly than on the previous day. Several times the captain came on deck and watched them; they continued their work as it they did not observe him. By the time it was completed, as may be supposed, their clothing was entirely spoiled. As they stepped on deck he grinned at them maliciously.

"Ah! now you look what you must in future expect to be," he remarked; "go forward and stow away those buckets, and then come aft to me."

"I wonder what he is going to make us do next?" said Harry, as they handed the buckets over to the boatswain. Poor David, overcome with the heat, scarcely answered. A cup of water which he had obtained from a cask on deck somewhat revived him.

"Well, we must go aft, and face it out as best we can," he answered; "come along, I'm ready."

The captain ordered them into his cabin.

"Now, lads, I want that furniture cleaned; the brass has not been burnished for some time." He put some leather into their hands. The difficulty of the work was not so great, but it was evidently given to insult them on account of its menial character. Harry especially felt this. Still they had no resource but to obey, and scrubbed away with might and main. At last the captain came below.

"Now, you young English midshipman, I've some special work for you to do. See that locker; there are several pairs of boots and shoes—you'll find a blacking-bottle and brushes. I want them cleaned." Harry's proud spirit rose within him. Should he defy the tyrannical captain, and declare that he would die sooner than so employ himself? The captain seemed to divine his thoughts.

"As you please, youngster," he observed; "no one disobeys me on board this vessel."

Harry remembered the shark, and the captain's threat on the previous day.

"Oh! I will help you," said David, looking at him.

"No, it is his work," said the captain.

Poor Harry saw there was no use in offering any resistance, and taking out the brushes began to clean the shoes. It was a work which a midshipman in those days often had to perform for himself; but then it was very different doing it for another, and that other a Frenchman. At length, however, the boys were dismissed, having performed all the tasks given to them. They hurried forward and dived below. The first person they met was Pierre, who looked with commiseration on their tarred dresses.

"I came on board with a nice clean suit, and had to spoil it just as you have had to spoil yours," he observed; "and now he abuses me when I go into his cabin, for not looking clean."

After this the boys were regularly sent aft to help wash down decks, and to keep the stanchions and other parts about the ship bright. This gave them abundant occupation. However, when they could manage to get below, they were treated even more kindly than before by the crew.

They had been for some weeks cruising up and down without even sighting a sail, when one morning, on Harry and David coming on deck, they found the captain and officers in a considerable state of excitement. The captain himself went aloft with his glass, and on his return ordered the ship's course to be altered, and all sail to be set.

"We are in chase of some vessel or other," observed Harry; "depend upon it the Frenchmen expect to make a prize of her."

All hands were called on deck. Now one sail and now another was added,—some rigged out so as just to skim the surface of the water, while with buckets and scoops the sails were wetted as high as they could be reached. Harry and David could see in the far distance a large ship, which from her narrow yards and the cut of her sails Harry said he thought was really a merchantman, which of course the Frenchman took her to be.

"But suppose she is not," said David.

"Then they will find out that they have caught a Tartar, and we shall get out of the power of this Monsieur Sourcrout," answered Harry; "however, we mustn't raise our hopes too high."

"The ship ahead has shown English colours," the boys heard from some of the crew, for they could not get a glass to look through. She, it seemed, did not like the appearance of the stranger, for she now set all sail and went off also directly before the wind. A stern chase is a long chase, but if the chaser is a faster vessel than the chased, she will come up with her at last. As the day drew on it was very evident that the schooner had gained very considerably on the chase. She was seen to be an old-fashioned merchant vessel, a regular West India trader, probably, which would afford a rich prize to the captors.

The excitement of the captain and officers was extreme. Already they anticipated the rich booty which would soon be theirs.

"Oh! do you think those people on board that vessel will give in without fighting?" asked David.

"I think very likely not," said Harry; "we shall soon know; in less than an hour we shall be alongside."

"What had we better do?" asked David.

"Stay on deck and see what takes place," said Harry.

"What, and run the chance of being shot?" said David; "I don't think that would be wise."

"Well, let us wait and see till the time comes," said Harry, who was evidently very unwilling to go below while any fighting was taking place.

In the meantime the Frenchmen were very active in preparing the ship for action. Arm-chests were thrown open, and arms were handed to each of the crew. The cutlasses were secured to their waists, and the pistols they stuck in their belts. The guns were cast loose and loaded, and the French ensign run up at the peak. The magazine was opened, and Harry and David were called aft by the captain, and told to go below.

"I knew that's what we should have to do," said Harry.

"Stand by, and hand up the powder as it is wanted," said the captain, in an authoritative tone, which there was no disobeying. Pierre and the other boys were employed in the same way.

"We shall have to carry the powder on deck in these tubs, and sit on it till it is wanted," said Harry.

"And run as great a risk of being shot as any of the crew?" asked David.

"There's no help for it," said Harry. "If we refuse, the French skipper is just as likely to shoot us through the head as not. He's been waiting for this opportunity to have his revenge on us."

As soon as the guns were loaded, a fresh supply of powder was called for, and Harry and the other boys were ordered to carry it up on deck. There they sat in a row on the tubs which contained the bags of powder, looking anything but contented with their lot. The schooner now rapidly came up with the merchant vessel,—for such there seemed no doubt was the character of the chase. Whether or not she would fight seemed a question. As they drew nearer, a considerable number of men were seen on deck, and she gave no signs of yielding. As soon as the Frenchman's bow-chaser could be brought to bear, a shot was fired, but no reply was given. Another and another followed in rapid succession. Neither of the shots took effect. At length the schooner got near enough to fire a whole broadside. As she was about to do so, the ship hauled up her courses, and, standing across the Frenchman's bows, gave her a raking broadside which struck down several of her crew, and caused some little damage to her masts and spars. Harry and David looked anxiously towards each other. Neither of them was hurt, nor was Pierre, in whom they took a warm interest. This opposition, however, seemed to excite the captain to the utmost pitch of fury. He stamped and swore, and ordered a broadside to be immediately poured into the English ship. The two vessels now ran on alongside each other. It was clear if the English vessel was to be taken, she would not be captured without a severe struggle. The Frenchman's guns were heavier and more numerous than hers, and the crew were better trained to their use. This soon began to tell. Several of her spars were soon shot away, and from the faintness of her fire it seemed too probable that many of her crew had been killed or wounded. As long as the Frenchman's spars remained standing, to escape was hopeless, and her guns were therefore directed rather to knock away the Frenchman's masts than to kill the crew. In this, however, she was not successful, and several of her own spars were shot away instead. At length the French captain, delivering another broadside, ranged up alongside with the intention of boarding. An attempt was made to avoid this, and boarding nettings were seen triced up above the bulwarks of the English ship. Again the Frenchman ran alongside.

"They shall not foil us a second time," exclaimed the French captain; "no quarter if they do not yield."

Harry and David trembled for the fate of their unfortunate countrymen on board the merchantman. Just then the English ensign was seen to descend from the peak. Those on board the English vessel thought that further resistance was hopeless. The Frenchmen swarmed up the sides, and were quickly in possession of the English ship.

"We'll follow, and see what takes place," said Harry; "we may perhaps help some of the poor people."

As there was no one to interfere with them, they were soon on the merchantman's deck. Some five or six of the crew lay dead, while three or four others, badly wounded, were being conveyed below. The French captain, by his gestures, seemed disappointed at not having his expected revenge, and he was abusing the English captain for having attempted to oppose him. A man stood by, receiving the swords of the captain and several other persons, who seemed to be gentlemen. Harry and David observed one whose face had been turned away from them at first.

"Harry," exclaimed David, "I'm sure that's Captain Rymer. If Mary is on board, how dreadful for her!"

"It's very like him," said Harry; "I'm afraid it must be him. But how could he have come on board the ship? We shall soon know, at all events—I will try and speak to him."

As may be supposed, even their dearest friends would not have known the two lads in their tarry clothes, and their faces begrimed with powder. As soon as the French captain and his followers went below to examine the cargo of the ship, Harry and David stole up to the gentleman whom they supposed to be Captain Rymer. He was indeed their friend.

"What, lads!" he exclaimed, looking at them, "are you really alive? I am thankful to find you so, even in this plight."

Harry rapidly explained how they came to be on board the French vessel.

"And is Mary with you?" asked Harry, eagerly.

"Yes, and there are several other ladies in the cabin below. They have shut themselves in, and I trust will receive no annoyance from the Frenchmen."

"I don't think we should be seen talking with you," said Harry, "because we may hope to be of some assistance, although we don't see clearly how that is to be just yet."

The Frenchmen seemed highly elated at finding they had captured an unusually rich prize, and were in a very good humour, in spite of the loss of a few of their number. The dead were soon thrown overboard, and the wounded placed in the doctor's hands out of sight, the decks washed down, and most of the traces of the combat done away with. A picked crew of the Frenchmen was sent on board the English merchantman, which it seemed the intention of the captain to carry into the nearest port in the West Indies belonging to France. Harry and David could not bear the thoughts of being separated from Captain Rymer, and resolved to stow themselves away on board the English vessel, hoping they might not be missed. Among the prize crew were, to their great satisfaction, their good-natured friends Jacques Rossillion and Pierre Lamont. The first lieutenant came to take the command. The Frenchmen more than doubled the remainder of the English crew, who, however, were expected to assist in working the ship. Scarcely had these arrangements been made when a strong breeze sprang up. The boats were hoisted in, and the two vessels separated. The wind increased very rapidly, and so heavy a sea got up that it would have been dangerous for a boat to pass from one vessel to the other. Before long, however, the schooner ranged up near the ship.

"You have got those two English boys on board; give them the rope's-end," shouted the French captain, who, apparently, had only just then discovered that Harry and David had escaped him.

The French lieutenant replied that he would see to it, and again the vessels separated. He, however, had never looked at them in the same surly way the other officers had done, and as they took good care to keep out of his sight, he seemed to forget the orders he had received. The wind went on increasing till it seemed likely to become a regular hurricane. The management of the ship completely occupied the French crew, so that they had but little time to look after their prisoners. The English captain and his officers were ordered to remain as prisoners in one of the cabins with a sentinel placed over them, but the rest of the crew were allowed to go about at liberty.

"Don't you think it would be possible to get back the ship?" said Harry to David. "Shall I propose to make the attempt to Captain Rymer?"

"If it was not for Mary and the other ladies," said David, "he might consent; but the risk to them would be too fearful were we to fail."

Hitherto they had not had the opportunity of seeing Mary. Finding, however, that the Frenchmen as well as the English crew were engaged in making the ship snug, they stole aft and found their way to the cabin door.

"May we come in?" said Harry.

"Yes, yes," answered a voice, which they thought was Mary's.

When, however, they opened the door and presented themselves, for a minute Mary could scarcely recognise them, so changed were they since the day they had parted from her after the picnic—Harry in his bright new uniform, and David in his trim yachtsman's attire. Now their hair was long, their cheeks were sunken, at least so far as could be seen through the powder which begrimed them, and their dresses were covered from head to foot with tar; still, the moment they spoke, she sprang forward and took them warmly by the hands.

"Oh, I am so thankful that you have not been lost, as we thought you were," she exclaimed, and the tears came into her eyes; "this is a very sad way of meeting, but still I hope God will protect us all, and I am thankful to see you both."

Most of the ladies, who were all passengers, were eager to hear of the boys' adventures. These they briefly gave. Some, however, were too frightened by the sound of the hurricane, and the tossing and rolling of the ship, to listen to them.

"Do you think there is any danger?" at last asked Mary of Harry.

"I hope not," said Harry, "but Captain Rymer knows more about it than I do."

Captain Rymer, who at this moment entered the cabin, looked somewhat anxious, though he endeavoured to speak in a cheerful voice, and began to express his satisfaction at the escape of his young friends from the numerous dangers to which they had been exposed. Night was now coming on, and it was evident that the ship was in the midst of a regular West Indian hurricane. The French officer was evidently a good seaman, and did all that could be done under the circumstances for the safety of the ship. The topgallant-masts were struck, and every sail was furled except a closely reefed fore-topsail, with which the ship ran before the gale. Night had now come on; the wind, as is generally the case during a hurricane, shifted so much that it was difficult to ascertain in what direction she was driving. Captain Rymer several times went on deck, but had a not very satisfactory report to give on his return.

"As long as the ship does not spring a leak we have nothing to fear, however," he observed.

Still the ship rolled and pitched so much that it seemed scarcely possible that a structure of wood and iron could hold together. The poor ladies had to sit on the deck of the cabin and hold on by the legs of the table, while the lamp swung backwards and forwards in a way that threatened every instant to cause its fracture. Harry and David, though they had seen enough of storms, agreed to go up on deck and see what was taking place. One glance satisfied them. The mountain seas, covered with white foam, were rolling up on either side of the ship, and threatened every instant to come down upon her deck. They gladly descended again.

"I don't at all like the look of things, I confess," said David. "As long, however, as Captain Rymer is satisfied that all is right, so should we be."



CHAPTER TEN.

ON A REEF—FATE OF THE FRENCH CREW—THE ISLAND—THE SHIPWRECKED PEOPLE— THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT L'HIRONDELLE.

It is scarcely necessary to relate that Captain Rymer was on his way, on board the Cerberus, West Indian merchantman, to take the command to which he had been appointed when he was captured by the privateer. He had been too much accustomed to the ups and downs of a sailor's life to be disheartened at what had occurred, though it was a great trial it must be owned. He had cause also to be grateful that he and his companions had not received that ill-usage to which passengers were too often subjected when their vessel was taken by a privateer. It might have been very different had the French captain himself remained on board. He had now, however, great cause for apprehension, in consequence of the increasing violence of the hurricane. The Cerberus, he knew, was a stout, strong-built ship, but many a stout ship had gone down in a West Indian hurricane; not long before, several line-of-battle ships with all their gallant crews had been lost. Things on deck looked as bad as they well could do. He was a Christian man, and put his trust in One who is all-able to save. Thus he could impart hope and confidence to his companions. Hitherto the ship had not sprung a leak, and, as far as he could judge, they were at some distance from any land. The French had, however, become alarmed. Some, like true men, stayed at their posts on deck, but the greater number had gone below and stowed themselves away in the berths. A few had endeavoured to break open the spirit-room, but the French officers, suspecting their intentions, had been in time to prevent them, and threatened to shoot the first man, whether Frenchman or Englishman, who would again make the attempt. Order was thus kept on board. No human power was longer of any avail in guiding the ship. The hatches were battened down in time to prevent the seas, which now began to break on board, from washing below. On she drove before the hurricane. The caboose and spars were first washed away; then two of the quarter-boats shared the same fate. The seas were making a clean sweep over the decks; still on she drove. Now part of the bulwarks were knocked to pieces, and it seemed that in a short time everything on deck would follow; still the masts stood and the ship floated. There was hope, but it grew fainter and fainter; even the stoutest hearts had cause to fear. Several fearful hours followed. The hurricane howled more loudly and fiercely around the ship, and the raging seas seemed to have gained her as their prey.

"Do you really think she will live through it?" asked David of Harry.

"Yes, I do think so; we've gone through so many dangers, that I can't fancy that we're to be lost at last," was Harry's reply.

Another and another hour passed away. "Surely the hurricane must come to an end at last," said David. "Did you ever know one last so long, Captain Rymer?" he inquired.

"They seldom last more than twelve or fifteen hours, and this gives me hope that we shall escape," answered their friend. "I see a gleam of daylight coming through a scuttle. Depend upon it, before long the wind will begin to fall."

While they were speaking loud cries arose from those on deck. "Breakers ahead!" shouted the English crew. Directly afterwards there was a fearful crash.

"We're cast upon a reef!" exclaimed Harry; "perhaps, after all, our last day is come."

Captain Rymer set an example of coolness to his companions. "Remain together," he said to Mary and the other ladies, "I will go on deck and ascertain the state of affairs, and return for you, if there is a prospect of your reaching the shore. We are in God's hands, and though we may be unable to help ourselves, let us feel that He will care for us."

While he was thus speaking, the ship seemed to be lifted by the seas, and then down she came again with another crash. Just as Captain Rymer reached the deck, followed by David and Harry, the masts were seen to go by the board; the ship had struck upon a reef, over which the sea was driving her, and inside of it the waters seemed comparatively calm.

"Why, men," shouted Captain Rymer to the crew, "I believe if we remain by the ship we shall all be able to gain the shore in safety." The Frenchmen, however, did not understand him, and were engaged in launching the remaining boats. He felt sure that in the raging seas which surrounded the ship no boats would live.

"Whatever happens, we will remain on board," he said to Harry and David. "The ship I know is strong, and will hold together till the storm is abated. Those who attempt to embark now will, I fear, lose their lives."

In vain he urged the Frenchmen to remain. The English captain alone, with one of his officers, agreed that he was right. The boats were lowered and the infatuated men leaped into them. Pierre Lamont had courageously remained on deck during the hurricane, but he now seemed inclined to follow his countrymen into the boats. Harry and David saw him, and shouted to him not to go. Hearing them he turned back, but one of the Frenchmen seized him by the arms, and before he could disengage himself, had dragged him into the boat. Scarcely, however, had the boats shoved off, crowded with human beings, than first one, then the other, was capsized, and all were thrown into the water. In vain the shrieking wretches attempted to regain the ship; some clung to the boats; a few who could swim struggled for some time amid the foaming waves. Captain Rymer had before this gone below, but Captain Williams and those who remained on deck, got ropes ready to throw to any who might be washed near the ship. None were so fortunate, and one by one they were carried far away, and disappeared amid the foaming breakers.

"Is there not one who can be saved?" exclaimed David, who had stood watching the scene with horror.

"Yes, yes, I see one clinging to the wreck of our masts," answered Harry; "I must go and try to rescue him. I do believe that it is Pierre!"

"Oh, let me go then," said David; "I can swim better than you, you know."

"This is a case for scrambling rather than for swimming," answered Harry; "I'll fasten a rope round my waist, and we'll have him quickly on board."

Harry, before David could offer another objection, did as he proposed. It was an undertaking, however, of the greatest danger, and the utmost activity and vigilance could alone have saved him from being struck by the broken spars which were dashed here and there by the seas.

At length Harry reached the object of his search. Pierre looked up at him eagerly. "Oh, save me, save me! I cannot hold on longer," he exclaimed.

Harry sprang forward and grasped the French boy by the collar just as his hands relaxed their hold. He dragged him up on the mast. To return with him was even more difficult than the first part of the undertaking. Undaunted, however, Harry persevered, and, though more than once almost losing his footing, succeeded at length in bringing young Pierre on board. "Brave garcon!" exclaimed Jacques, as he helped him up; "oh, I would die for you! I will be ever your friend."

Except the lieutenant in command, and honest Jacques Rossillion, no Frenchman remained on board, and the ship was once more, therefore, in possession of the English. Scarcely had this fearful catastrophe occurred than the weather gave evident signs of improving. Captain Williams, the English commander, accompanied by Captain Rymer, went round the ship below and brought back a satisfactory report that she appeared to have suffered very little damage by the blows she had received. The shore was, however, not particularly inviting; a few groups of cocoa-nut trees and other tropical plants were alone to be seen. It was an island scarcely more than two miles in circumference, one of those spots known as keys in the West Indies; still, should the ship break up, it would afford them shelter, and they could not help longing to be able to reach the beach. As the boats and all had been lost, this could not be done till a raft had been built. The gentlemen immediately set about constructing one. As the spars had all been washed away, it was necessary first to get those which floated alongside from the rigging. There were planks also below; these were got up, with all the empty casks which could be collected. By knocking away some of the bulwarks, and by bringing on deck a few of the seamen's chests, they soon had materials for constructing a raft large enough for carrying the whole party. All hands worked with a will. The French lieutenant was very active, and seemed in no way put out by having the tables so completely turned upon him. He was probably grateful, as he ought to have been, for having escaped with his life. By the time the raft was finished, the sea had so completely gone down that there was little difficulty in launching it. The bulwarks having been already completely washed away, all that was necessary was to let it slip quietly overboard. Its constructors gave a cheer as they saw it floating calmly alongside; they had still, however, to rig the mast and sail, as well as to fit some oars to guide it towards the shore.

When this was done, the captains invited all the passengers up on deck. It was agreed that it would be safer to convey only half at a time. Harry and David begged that they might accompany Captain Rymer and Mary. Captain Rymer agreed to let Captain Williams conduct the first party, saying that he should be content to remain on board till the return of the raft. Before the raft left the side, a supply of provisions were lowered down upon it; and, with the prayers of those who remained on board for its safe voyage, the raft shoved off from the side of the ship. Its progress was slow, for there was very little wind, and there seemed to be a current sweeping round the island which took it out of its direct course. At length, however, it reached the beach, and those on it leaped out and ran eagerly up on to the dry land. The men had, however, to return for the provisions, which were landed in safety. Then Captain Williams, and two seamen who accompanied him, had to return to the ship; they were a considerable time, and it seemed doubtful indeed, in consequence of the current which had to be encountered, whether they would regain her. They succeeded, however, at last.

Captain Rymer, with those who had remained on board, had employed their time in getting up provisions, and their first care was to load her with as large a supply as she could safely carry; this done, the remainder of those on board now made for the shore, which by some exertion they safely reached. The first care of the shipwrecked party on reaching the shore was to send out some of their number in search for water. Captain Rymer had brought some from the wreck, but this was only sufficient to last for a short time, and their lives might depend upon their obtaining a supply. Only those who have felt the want of water know how to appreciate its value. Others, in the meantime, employed themselves in getting up a tent for the ladies; for which purpose they had brought some spare sails and ropes. In a short time the party which had gone out in search of water returned with the report that none was to be found. This rendered it important to economise their slender store, and to procure a future supply from the ship as soon as possible.

All this time no one seemed to have thought of the French privateer. She had not been seen since the commencement of the hurricane, from which, if she had escaped, it was too probable she would come and look for her prize. This was a source of anxiety to Captain Rymer, for, though of course anxious to escape from their present position, he had no wish at all to fall again into the hands of the French.

The men of the party found ample occupation for the rest of the day, in putting up shelter for themselves, for hot as is the climate of the West Indies, it is dangerous to sleep exposed to the night dews.

Pierre seemed anxious to make himself useful, and begged that he might be allowed to attend on the ladies. Jacques offered to undertake the office of cook, the duties of which he was far better able to perform than any of the English. The French lieutenant seemed the most cast-down of any of the party. He sat by himself not speaking to any one, and with an air of discontent, put away the food which was brought to him.

"The poor lieutenant mourns and seems very unhappy," said David to Pierre.

"Yes," answered Pierre, "he is often thus morose when anything annoys him; the poor man has no religion."

"Is he not a Roman Catholic?" asked David.

"Oh, no; a large number of my countrymen threw off all religion at the Revolution, and many, like him, have not taken to any since. He, I am afraid, does not believe in God, or in any future state, but that when he dies he will become just like a dog or a pig; so, you see, he has no hope, and nothing to keep him up."

"But what are you, Pierre? are you not a Roman Catholic?" asked David.

"Oh, no, I am a Protestant," answered Pierre; "there are a great many Protestants in France, and though some few at the Revolution became infidels, by far the greater number remained firm to the true faith."

"I didn't know there were any Protestants in France," said Harry, who, like many boys at that time, fancied that the English were the only Protestant people in Europe.

"Oh, yes, there are a great number who are known as Huguenots, and who fought bravely for the Protestant faith," said Pierre. "My father was of a Huguenot family, and many of his ancestors lost their lives for the love they bore the Bible."