Rendered desperate, they at last determined to mutiny, and the first outbreak occurred on the 15th April in the Channel fleet, which was at the time anchored at Spithead. On Admiral Lord Bridport giving the signal to weigh anchor, the seamen of the flagship, instead of proceeding to their stations, ran up the rigging and gave three cheers, and the crews of the rest of the ships at once did the same. The officers attempted to induce the men to return to their duty, but in vain. The next day two delegates from each ship met on the Queen Charlotte, the flagship, to deliberate, and the day after all the men swore to stand by their leaders, and such officers as had rendered themselves obnoxious to the men were put on shore.

The delegates then drew up two petitions, one to Parliament the other to the Admiralty, asking that their wages should be increased—they had remained at the same point since Charles II was king,—that the pound should be reckoned at sixteen ounces instead of fourteen, and that the food should be of better quality. Further, that vegetables should be occasionally served out, that the sick should be better attended and their medical comforts not embezzled; and, finally, that on returning from sea the men should be allowed a short leave to visit their friends.

On the 18th a committee of the Board of Admiralty arrived at Portsmouth, and in answer to the petition agreed to ask the king to propose to Parliament an increase of wages, and also to grant them certain other privileges; but these terms the sailors would not accept, and expressed their determination not to weigh anchor till their full demands were granted.

The committee now sent, through Lord Bridport, a letter to the seamen granting still further concessions, and promising pardon to all concerned; but the sailors answered expressing their thanks for what had been granted, but reiterating their demands.

On the 21st Vice-admirals Sir Allen Gardner and Colpoys and Rear-admiral Pole went on board the Queen Charlotte to confer, but they were informed that until the reforms were sanctioned by the king and Parliament they would not be accepted as final. This so angered Admiral Gardner that he seized one of the delegates by the collar and swore he would hang the lot, and every fifth man in the fleet. The delegates at once returned to their ships, and the seamen of the fleet proceeded to load the guns. Watches were set as at sea, and the ships were put into a complete state of defence.

On the 22nd Lord Bridport, having received a letter from the mutineers explaining the cause of the steps they had taken, went on board, and after a short deliberation his offers were accepted, and the men returned to their duty.

The fleet was detained at St. Helens by a foul wind until the 7th of May, when news was received that the French were preparing to sail. Lord Bridport made the signal to weigh, but the crews again refused to obey orders, alleging that the silence that Parliament had observed respecting their grievances led them to suspect that the promised redress was to be withheld.

For four days matters continued in the same state, but on the 14th Admiral Lord Howe arrived from London with full powers to settle all disputes with an Act of Parliament which had been passed on the 9th, and a proclamation granting the king's pardon to all who should return at once to their duty.

After various discussions the men agreed to the terms, and on the 16th May, all matters having been amicably settled, Lord Bridport put to sea with his fleet of fifteen sail of the line.

Notwithstanding these concessions the sailors of the ships lying at the Nore broke into mutiny on the 20th of May, their ringleader being a seaman of the name of Richard Parker, one of a class of men denominated sea-lawyers. The delegates drew up a statement of demands containing eight articles, most of which were perfectly impossible, and the Admiralty replied by pointing out the concessions the Legislature had recently made, and refusing to accede to any more, but offering to pardon the men if they would at once return to their duty. The mutineers refused, and hoisted the red flag. They landed at Sheerness and marched through the streets, and in many ways went to greater lengths than their comrades at Spithead. They even flogged and otherwise ill-treated some of the officers.

This outbreak now assumed the most alarming proportions. Eleven ships belonging to the North Sea fleet, on the way to blockade the Texel, turned back and joined Parker, and the greatest alarm was felt in London, the Funds falling to an unheard-of price. The Government acted, however, with vigour; buoys were removed, and the forts were manned and the men ordered to open fire should the fleet sail up the river. Bills were rushed through Parliament in two days, authorizing the utmost penalties on the mutineers and on all who aided them.

This had the desired effect, and early in June the fleets at Portsmouth and Plymouth disavowed all complicity with Parker, and two ships—the Leopard and Repulse—hauled down the red flag and retreated up the Thames, being fired on by the rest of the fleet. The example was, however, contagious, and ship after ship deserted until, on the 14th, the crew of the Sandwich handed over Parker to the authorities.

He was tried, convicted, and hanged on board that ship on the 29th of June. Some of the other leaders were also hanged, some were flogged through the fleet, and some sent to prison.

The mutiny was not confined to the ships on the home stations, but it never became serious at any point, and a display of timely severity soon brought matters back to their usual condition of discipline and obedience to orders.

A mutiny of a different character, as it was caused by the tyranny of the captain, and had very different results, took place in the West Indies.

On the night of the 21st of September the thirty-two-gun frigate Hermione was cruising off Porto Rico. Its captain, Pigot, was known to be one of the most harsh and brutal officers in the navy. On the previous day, while the crew were reefing topsails, he had called out that he would flog the last man down. The poor fellows, knowing well that he would keep his word, hurried down; and two of them, in trying to jump over those below them, missed their footing and were killed. When this was reported to the captain he simply said: "Throw the lubbers overboard." All the other men were severely reprimanded. The result of this, the last of a succession of similar acts of tyranny, was that the crew broke into mutiny. The first lieutenant went to enquire into the disturbance, but he was killed and thrown overboard. The captain, hearing the tumult, ran on deck, but he suffered the same fate as his second in command. The mutineers then proceeded to murder eight other officers, two lieutenants, the purser, the surgeon, the captain's clerk, one midshipman, the boatswain, and the lieutenant of marines. The master, a midshipman, and the gunner were the only officers spared. They then carried the ship into the port of La Guayra, representing to the Spanish governor that they had turned their officers adrift. The real circumstances of the case were explained to the governor by the British admiral, but he insisted upon detaining the vessel and fitting her out as a Spanish frigate.

Many of the perpetrators of this horrible crime were afterwards captured and executed. Had they contented themselves with wreaking their vengeance on their captain, some excuse might have been offered for them when the catalogue of his brutalities was published, but nothing could be said in condonation of the cold-blooded murder of the other officers, including even a midshipman and the young captain's clerk, neither of whom could have in any way influenced their commander's conduct.

The Hermione, however, was of but little use to the Spaniards. Sir Hyde Parker, in October, 1799, hearing that she was about to sail from Porto Cabello, in Havana, detached the Surprise under Captain Hamilton, to attempt to obtain possession of her. On arriving off Porto Cabello he found the Hermione, which was manned by four hundred men, moored between two strong batteries at the entrance to the harbour, but, nothing daunted, Captain Hamilton resolved to cut her out. At eight o'clock in the evening he pushed off from the Surprise with all his boats, manned by one hundred officers and men.

Undeterred by a heavy fire, the boats made for the Hermione and were soon alongside. The main attack at the gangways was beaten off, but the captain, with his cutter's crew, made good his footing on the forecastle, and here he was joined by the crew of the gig and some of the men from the jolly-boat. He then fought his way to the quarter-deck, where he was soon reinforced by the crews of the boats that had at first been repulsed. In a very short time, after some desperate fighting, the Hermione was captured. The cables were now cut and the sails hoisted, and under a heavy fire from the batteries the frigate was brought off, though much damaged both in rigging and hull. A few days later she anchored in Port Royal.

This feat stands perhaps unparalleled in naval history for its audacity and success. The victors had only twelve wounded; the enemy lost one hundred and nineteen killed and ninety-seven wounded. Captain Hamilton was knighted for this achievement, the legislature of Jamaica presented him with a sword valued at three hundred guineas, and on his arrival in England after his exchange, for he was taken prisoner on his way home, the common council of London voted him the freedom of the city. He was, however, much injured in the attack, and was to the end of his life under medical treatment.

After the battle of St. Vincent the Jason required some repairs to her hull, but as her spars were uninjured she was ordered by Admiral Jervis to proceed to Portsmouth with despatches. Here, to Will's great joy, he was confirmed in his position as first lieutenant. He was unable to get leave, as it was found the repairs would take but a short time, and after ten days' stay in port the Jason sailed to join Lord Bridport's fleet. On doing so, she was at once despatched to reinforce the North Sea fleet under Admiral Duncan, then blockading the Texel.

It was while engaged in this monotonous work that the news came of Admiral Nelson's disastrous attack on Santa Cruz. The expedition was a complete failure, one hundred and forty-one being killed or drowned, and one hundred and five wounded or missing. Among the wounded was Admiral Nelson himself, who lost his arm.

The news of the mutinies taking place at Spithead and the Nore was a source of great anxiety to the officers, but the men were so attached to them that there was no real cause for uneasiness with regard to their own ship, and when the eleven ships of Duncan's fleet joined the mutineers at the Nore, the Jason was one of the few that remained with the admiral.

During the equinoctial gales many of the ships were so badly strained that Admiral Duncan returned to Yarmouth Roads to gather and repair his fleet, leaving the Jason and two other ships to watch the enemy. De Winter lost not a moment in taking advantage of his absence, and on the 7th of October sailed out with his whole fleet, chasing the watch vessels before him. On their way, however, they met a squadron under Captain Trollope, consisting of Duncan's ships which had been refitted. The Dutch fleet, on seeing them, thought that the whole British fleet was behind, and not at the time wishing to engage, went about and steered again for the Texel. On the 9th the Active came in sight off Yarmouth Roads with the signal flying that the enemy were at sea. At once a general chase was ordered, and by the time the Active joined them the whole fleet was under way. Her captain was hailed and ordered to guide the fleet to the precise spot where he had last seen the enemy.

Captain Trollope had, as soon as the Dutch fleet went about, started in chase of them, and kept them in sight until they approached the Texel, when he steered to meet Admiral Duncan. He was therefore able to give the exact position of the enemy, and at once the fleet sailed towards them. On the morning of the 11th October, 1797, the admiral came in sight of the enemy about nine miles from shore and nearly opposite the village of Camperdown. The fleet, however, was greatly scattered owing to the different speeds of the ships. De Winter, as soon as he saw the British coming, got up his anchors and made for shore, hoping that he might be able to get so close in among its shoals and sand-banks, which were much better known to him than to his antagonists, as to deter Duncan from pursuing him. He was, above all things, anxious to avoid action; not so much because his fleet was slightly inferior to the British, as because his instructions enjoined him to regard his junction with the French at Brest as his chief object.

The British admiral, seeing his arrangements and divining his object, pressed on, regardless of the scattered state of his fleet, and made the signal for each ship to attack as she came up. Another signal intimated that he should attempt to break the enemy's line, so as to get between it and the land. But this signal was not generally seen by the fleet. It was, however, seen and acted upon by the second in command, Admiral Onslow, in the Monarch, who soon after led the larboard division through the Dutch line, three ships from the rear, and then closely engaged the Jupiter. Duncan's own ship, the Venerable, the leading ship of the starboard division, marked out the Vryhide, De Winter's flagship, as his own antagonist.

The Dutch ship States-general, the flagship of their rear-admiral, seeing his design, pressed so close up to his chief that the British admiral was compelled to change his course and pass astern of her; but as he did so he poured so terrible a fire into her stern that she was glad to fall back and leave the Venerable free to attack the Vryhide. Others of our ships followed the example of their chief, breaking the Dutch line at several points. At one o'clock the battle became general, and was carried on with unsurpassed courage on both sides. The two biggest Dutch frigates, which carried as heavy guns as the British line-of-battle ships, crept forward into the fight and fought gallantly, the Mars raking the Venerable severely while she was engaged with no fewer than three Dutch line-of-battle ships.

The crew of the Venerable had been particularly anxious to fight, their ship having been for the past five months engaged in the dreary work of blockading the Texel; and when they had seen the Dutch with their topsails bent, as if intending to come out, they had offered to advance into the narrow entrance to the Texel, and in that position stop the way against the whole fleet, or at least fight their ship till she sank. Now they proved that their offer had been no empty boast, for, although fighting against overwhelming odds, they stuck to their guns with unexampled devotion.

More than once every flag they hoisted was shot away, and at last one of the sailors went aloft and nailed the admiral's colours to the stump of the main topgallant mast. The Vryhide also fought with desperate courage. Other British ships, however, came up, and the disparity in numbers turned the other way. The Ardent attacked her on the other side, and the Triumph and Director poured a raking fire along her decks. One after another her masts fell, and the wreck rendered half her guns unworkable. Her crew were swept away, until De Winter was left alone on her quarter-deck, while below there were hardly enough men left to man the pumps. Then the gallant admiral with his own hand hauled down his colours, having fought to the admiration of the whole British fleet. The States-general, almost disabled by the fruitless attempt to foul the Venerable, maintained a vigorous conflict for some time against a succession of adversaries, during which she lost above three hundred men killed and wounded, until at last her captain was compelled to strike. No one, however, attempted to take possession of her, and, gradually dropping astern until clear of both fleets, she rehoisted her colours and made off to the Texel.



Ship after ship struck, and of the whole Dutch fleet but six ships of the line and two frigates managed to reach the Texel, and this was only due to the fact that several of the Dutch vessels, knowing that the orders had been that they were not to fight, stood aloof and disregarded their admiral's signal to engage. The entire casualties among our men exceeded a thousand. Many of the ships were completely riddled by shot, and on some of them the men were employed day and night at the pumps to keep them afloat till they could cross the Channel to our own harbours. Two seventy-fours, five fifty-fours, two gun-ships, and two frigates remained in our hands, but all were so battered that not one of them could ever be made fit for service. The two fleets were nearly equal in strength, the British being about one-twelfth the stronger. Some of the Dutch ships took no share in the action, but the same is true of the British. Some of them arrived too late, the hazy weather having prevented the signals of the Venerable from being seen by them. For one of them, however, the Agincourt, no excuse could be found, so her captain was tried by court-martial and declared incapable of serving in the navy for the future.

The Jason had taken her share in the battle. She had at once placed herself alongside the Brutus, a battle-ship of the same size as herself. All the afternoon the duel was continued, and both ships lost some masts and spars and had their hulls completely shattered. It was not until the engagement had almost ceased elsewhere that the enemy hauled down her colours. The battle was a desperate one, and Will had felt the strain greatly; there was comparatively little for him to do, for both ships sailed along side by side, and there was no attempt at manoeuvring. He had, therefore, simply to move about, encouraging the sailors and directing their fire. So incessant was the cannonade that it was with difficulty he could make his orders heard, and, cool as he was, he was almost confused by the terrible din that went on around. It was found, after the Brutus surrendered, that her loss had been one hundred and twenty killed and wounded, while on board the Jason little over half that number had suffered.

As soon as the prize surrendered, parties were put on board to take possession, while the rest of the men were engaged in attending to their own and the Dutch wounded. The next day jury-masts were got up, and the Jason, with her prize in tow, sailed with the rest of the fleet for England. When they arrived at Sheerness the Jason was found to require a complete refit. The crew were therefore ordered to be paid off, and Will was promoted to the rank of captain, and at once appointed to the command of the frigate Ethalion, thirty-four guns, which had just been fitted ready for sea.

He had no difficulty in manning his ship, as a sufficient number of the Jason's old crew volunteered, and he was soon ready for service.

He was at once despatched to join Lord Bridport's fleet, and for nearly nine months was engaged in the incessant patrolling which at that time the British frigates maintained in the Channel.

Towards the end of July, 1798, the vigilance of the frigates, if possible, increased, for it became known that two French squadrons were being prepared with the intention of landing troops in Ireland. On the 6th of August a small squadron slipped out of Rochefort, and, eluding the British cruisers, succeeded, on the 22nd, in landing General Humbert and eleven hundred and fifty men at Killala Bay, and then at once returned to Rochefort.

The attempt ended in failure; the peasantry did not join as was expected, and on the 8th of September General Humbert surrendered at Ballinamuck to Lieutenant-general Lake.

Another fleet sailed from Brest on the 16th of September, 1798, consisting of one ship of the line, the Hoche, and eight frigates, under Commodore Bompart. It had on board three thousand troops, a large train of artillery, and a great quantity of military stores. It had set sail for Ireland before the news of the failure of Humbert's expedition had arrived, and it was certain that as soon as it reached its intended place of landing in Ireland it would endeavour to return without delay. Two or three days earlier the Ethalion and the eighteen-gun brig Sylph had joined the thirty-eight-gun frigate Boadicea, which was watching Brest. At daybreak a light breeze sprang up, and the French made sail. Leaving the Ethalion to watch the French fleet, the Boadicea sailed to carry the news of the start of the expedition to Lord Bridport.

At two o'clock on the 18th the Ethalion was joined by the Amelia, a thirty-eight-gun frigate, and at daylight the French directed their course as if for the West Indies. At eight o'clock they bore up, and five of their frigates chased the English ships. Presently, however, finding that they did not gain, they rejoined the squadron, which bore away to the south-west. On the 20th the two frigates were joined by the forty-four-gun frigate Anson. At noon the French were nearly becalmed. There was now no doubt that the destination of the squadron was Ireland, and the news was despatched by the Sylph to the commander-in-chief of the Irish station.

On the 26th the French ships turned on the frigates, but gave this up about noon, and proceeded on their way. The sea now became so rough that all the ships shortened sail. On the 29th the weather moderated, and the French squadron again started in chase. About nine o'clock the French battle-ship, the Hoche, sprung her main-topmast, and one of the French frigates carried away her top-sail yard. At this both the French and the British ships shortened sail. The French ships wore away to the north-west, and the British again followed them; but the Anson had sprung her topmast, and in the evening the Hoche lowered hers. The weather now became very bad, and the frigates hauled up and soon lost sight of the enemy. A week later the Amelia left them, but three days after, they fell in with the squadron that had been despatched from Cawsand Bay when the Boadicea arrived with news of the start of the French squadron from Brest. They were also joined by the frigates Melampus and Doris, which while at Lough Swilly had received news from the Sylph of the destination of the French squadron. The whole were under the command of Sir John Warren.

With the hope that he had now shaken off his pursuers, Admiral Bompart bore away for Killala Bay, but as he neared the land his leading frigate signalled the appearance of the British squadron. Sir John Warren immediately gave the signal for a general chase, but a heavy gale set in that evening, during which the Anson carried away her mizzen-mast main-yard and main-topsail-yard. The Hoche, however, was even more unfortunate, for she carried away her main-topmast, and this in its fall brought down the fore and mizzen-topgallant-masts. A few hours later the Resolue signalled that she had sprung a leak which she could not stop, and the admiral signalled orders to her captain to sail towards the coast, and by burning blue lights and sending up rockets to endeavour to lead the British squadron after him, and so allow the rest of the fleet to make off.

Admiral Bompart now changed his course, but at daybreak found himself almost surrounded by the British vessels. Both squadrons waited, but with very different feelings, the order to commence action. The Robust led the way, followed closely by the Magnanime, and was received with a fire from the stern-chasers and the quarter guns of the French frigates Embuscade and Coquille. A few minutes later the Robust returned the fire, and bore down to leeward for the purpose of engaging the Hoche, which, like herself, was a seventy-four-gun ship. In half an hour all the French frigates that could get away were making off. The Hoche by this time was a mere wreck, having suffered terribly from the fire of the Robust; her hull was riddled with shot, she had five feet of water in her hold, twenty-five of her guns were dismounted, and a great portion of her crew were killed and wounded. After the battle had raged for three hours she struck her colours. The Embuscade had also surrendered. The other British vessels set out in pursuit of the fugitives. The Coquille, after a brave resistance, was forced to haul down her colours, and the Ethalion pursued and captured the Bellone. Five French frigates attempted to escape, and in doing so sailed close to the Anson, which had been unable to take part in the action owing to the loss of her mizzen-mast, and as they passed ahead of her, poured in such destructive broadsides that she lost her fore and main masts, and had much other serious damage. Of the ships that had escaped, the Resolue was captured two or three days later. The Loire made a good fight; she was pursued by the Mermaid, and Kangaroo. The latter, which was an eighteen-gun brig, engaged her, but lost her fore-topmast. The Mermaid, a thirty-two-gun frigate, continued the pursuit.

At daybreak the Loire, seeing that her pursuer was alone, shortened sail. As the Loire was a forty-gun ship the fight was a desperate one, and both vessels were so badly injured that by mutual consent they ceased fire. The Mermaid lost her mizzen-mast, main topmast, and had her shrouds, spars, and boats cut to pieces. She was also making a great deal of water, and was therefore necessarily obliged to discontinue the fight. The Loire, however, was out of luck, for a day or two later she fell in with the Anson and Kangaroo, and in consequence of her battered condition she had to surrender without resistance. Similarly, the Immortalite, while making her way to Brest, fell in with the Fisgard, a vessel of just the same size. The Immortalite's fire was so well aimed that in a short time the Fisgard was quite unmanageable. Repairs, however, were executed with great promptness, and after a chase the action was recommenced. At the end of half an hour the Fisgard had received several shots between wind and water and she had six feet of water in her hold. Nevertheless she continued the fight, and at three o'clock the Immortalite, which was in a semi-sinking state, and had lost her captain and first lieutenant, hauled down her colours.

Thus seven out of the ten vessels under the command of Commodore Bompart were captured.

In the combat with the Bellone Will had been slightly wounded, and as he was most anxious to proceed with his investigation with regard to his relations, he applied for leave on his arrival at Portsmouth.

This was at once granted, and at the same time he received his promotion to post rank in consequence of his capture of the Bellone.



CHAPTER XIX

CONCLUSION

Will's first visit, after arriving in London, was to Dulwich. He had visited the house with Mr. Palethorpe when it was in progress of building, and had been favourably impressed with it, but now that it was complete he thought it was one of the prettiest houses that he had ever seen. The great conservatory was full of plants and shrubs, which he recognized as natives of Jamaica, and the garden was brilliant with bright flowers.

"I am delighted to see you again, Will," Mr. Palethorpe said, as he was shown in. "Alice is out at present, but she will be back before long. I must congratulate you on your promotion, which I saw in the Gazette this morning."

"Yes, sir, my good fortune sticks to me, except for this wound, and it is nothing serious and will soon be right again."

"Don't say good fortune, lad. You have won your way by conduct and courage, and you have a right to be proud of your position. I believe you are the youngest captain in the service, and that without a shadow of private interest to push you on. I am very glad to hear that your wound is so slight."

"You are not looking well, sir," Will said, after they had chatted for a time.

"No, I have had a shock which, I am ashamed to say, I have allowed to annoy me. I came home with L70,000. Of that I invested L40,000 in good securities, and allowed the rest to remain in my agent's hands until he came upon some good and safe security. Well, I was away with Alice in the country when he wrote to me to say that he strongly recommended me to buy a South Sea stock which everyone was running after, and which was rising rapidly. I must own that it seemed a good thing, so I told him to buy. Well, it went up like wildfire, and I could have sold out at four times the price at which I bought. At last I wrote to him to realize, and he replied that it had suddenly fallen a bit, and recommending me to wait till it went up again, which it was sure to do. I didn't see a London paper for some days, and when I did get one I found, to my horror, that the bubble had burst, and that the stock was virtually not worth the paper on which it was printed. The blow has affected me a good deal. I admit now that it was foolish, and feel it so; but when a man has been working all his life, it is hard to see nearly half of the fortune he has gained swept away at a blow."

"It is hard, sir, very hard. Still, it was fortunate that you had already invested L40,000 in good securities. After all, with this house and L40,000 you will really not so very much miss the sum you have lost."

"That is exactly what I tell myself, Will. Still, you know, a dog with two bones in his mouth will growl if he loses one of them. Nevertheless L40,000 is not to be despised by any means, and I shall have plenty to give my little Alice a good portion when she marries."

"That will be comfortable for her, sir, but I should say that the man would be lucky if he got her without a shilling."

"Well, well, we'll see, we'll see. I have no desire to part with her yet."

"That I can well understand, sir."

"Ah, here she is!"

A rosy colour spread over the girl's face when she saw who her father's visitor was.

"I expected you in a day or two," she said, "but not so soon as this. When we saw your name in the Gazette we made sure that it would not be long before you paid us a visit. I am glad to see that your wound has not pulled you down much."

"No indeed. I am all right; but it was certain that I should come here first of all."

"And what are your plans now?" Mr. Palethorpe asked.

"I am going to set to work at once to discover my family. I have not been to my lawyer yet, so I don't know how much he has done, but I certainly mean to go into the business in earnest."

"Well, it doesn't matter to you much now, Will, whether your family are dukes or beggars. You can stand on your own feet as a captain in the royal navy with a magnificent record of services."

"Yes, I see that, sir; but still I certainly do wish to be able to prove that I come of at least a respectable family. I have not the least desire to obtain any rank or anything of that kind, only to know that I have people of my own."

"I do not say that it is not a laudable ambition, but I don't believe that anyone would think one scrap better or worse of you were you to find that you were heir to a dukedom."

Will slept there that night, and the next morning drove into the city to his lawyer's office. "Well, Captain Gilmore?" said that gentleman as Will entered his private room. "I am glad to see you. I have been quietly at work making enquiries since you were last here. I sent a man down to Scarcombe some months ago. He learned as much as he could there, and since then has been going from village to village and has traced your father's journeyings for some months. Now that you are home I should suggest employing two or three men to continue the search and to find out if possible the point from which your father started his wanderings. Assuming, as I do, that he was the son of Sir Ralph Gilmore, I imagine that he must have quarrelled with his father at or about the time of his marriage. In that case he would probably come up to London. I have observed that most men who quarrel with their parents take that step first. There, perhaps, he endeavoured to obtain employment. The struggle would probably last two, or three, or four years. I take the last to be the most likely period, for by that time you would be about three years old. I say that because he could hardly have taken you with him had you been younger.

"It is evident that he had either no hope of being reconciled to his father or that he was himself too angry to make advances. I therefore propose to send men north from London to enquire upon all the principal roads. A man with a violin and a little child cannot have been altogether forgotten in the villages in which he stopped, and I hope to be able to trace his way up to Yorkshire. Again, I should employ one of the Bow Street runners to make enquiries in London for a man with his wife and child who lived here so many years ago, and whose name was Gilmore. I am supposing, you see, that that was his real name, and not one that he had assumed. I confess I have my doubts about it. A man who quits his home for ever after a desperate quarrel is as likely as not to change his name. That of course we must risk. While these enquiries are being made I should like you to go back to your old home; it is possible that other mementoes of his stay there may have escaped the memory of the old people with whom you lived. Anything of that kind would be of inestimable value."

"I will go down," Will said. "I am afraid there is little chance of my finding them both alive now. I fancy they were about fifty-five when I went to live with them, which would make them near eighty now. One or other of them, however, may be alive. I have not been to my agent yet, and therefore do not know whether he still sends them the allowance I made them."

After leaving the lawyer he went to his agent and found that the allowance was still paid, and regularly acknowledged by a receipt from the clergyman. He supposed, therefore, that certainly one, if not both, of the old people were still alive. He went back to Dulwich and said that he had taken a seat on the north coach for that day week. "I could not bring myself to leave before," he said, "and I knew you would keep me."

"Certainly, my boy. I don't think either Alice or myself would forgive you were you to run away the moment you returned."

When the time came Will started for the north, though he felt much reluctance to leave Alice. He acknowledged now to himself that he was deeply in love with her. Though from her father's manner he felt that when he asked for her hand he would not be refused, about Alice herself he felt far less confident. She was so perfectly open and natural with him that he feared lest she might regard him rather as a brother than as a lover, and yet the blush which he had noticed when he first met her on his return gave him considerable hope.

On arriving at Scarborough he stopped for the night at the house of his old friend Mrs. Archer. She and her husband listened with surprise and pleasure to his stories of his adventures in spite of his assurances that these were very ordinary matters, and that it was chiefly by luck that he had got on. He was a little surprised when, in reply to this, Mrs. Archer used the very words Mr. Palethorpe had uttered. "It is of no use your talking in that way, Will," she said. "No doubt you have had very good fortune, but your rapid promotion can only be due to your conduct and courage."

"I may have conducted myself well," he said warmly, "but not one bit better than other officers in the service. I really owe my success to the fortunate suggestion of mine as to the best method of attacking that pirate hold. As a reward for this the admiral gave me the command of L'Agile, and so, piece by piece, it has grown. But it was to my good fortune in making that suggestion, which really was not made in earnest, but only in reply to the challenge of another midshipman, that it has all come about. Above all, Mrs. Archer, I shall never forget that it was the kindness you showed me, and the pains you took in my education, that gave me my start in life."

The next day he drove over to Scarcombe, and to his pleasure, on entering the cottage, found John and his wife both sitting just where he had last seen them. They both rose to greet him.

"Thank God, Will," John said, "that we have been spared to see you alive again! I was afraid that our call might come before you returned."

"Why, father, I don't think you look a year older than you did when I last saw you. Both you and mother look good for another ten years yet."

"If we do, Will, it will be thanks to the good food you have provided for us. We live like lords; meat every day for dinner, and fish for breakfast and supper. I should not feel right if I didn't have a snack of fish every day. Then we have ale for dinner and supper. There is no one in the village who lives as we do. When we first began we both felt downright fat. Then we agreed that if we went on like that we never could live till you came back, so we did with a little less, and as you see we both fill out our clothes a long way better than we did when you were here last."

"Well you certainly do both look uncommonly well, father."

"And you ain't married yet, Will?"

"No, I've not done anything about that yet, though perhaps it won't be very long before I find a wife. I am not going to apply to go on service again for a time, so I'll have a chance to look round, though I really have one in my mind's eye."

"Tell us all about it, Will," the old woman said eagerly; "you know how interested we must be in anything that affects you."

"Well, mother, among the many adventures I have been through I must tell you the one connected with this young lady."

He then told her of his first meeting, of his stay at her father's house, and of the hurricane which they experienced together.

"Well, mother, I met her again unexpectedly more than two and a half years ago in London. Her father had come over here to live, and has a fine house at Dulwich. I have just been staying there for a week, and I have some hope that when I ask her she will consent to be my wife."

"Of course she will," the old woman said quite indignantly. "How could she do otherwise? Why, if you were to ask the king's daughter I am sure she would take you. Here you are, one of the king's captains, have done all sorts of wonderful things, and have beaten his enemies all over the world, and you are as straight and good-looking a young gentleman as anyone wants to see. No one, who was not out of her mind, could think of saying 'No' to you."

"Ah, mother, you are prejudiced! To you I am a sort of swan that has come out of a duck's egg."

They chatted for some time, and then Will said:

"Are you quite sure, John, that the bundle the clergyman handed over to me contained every single thing my father left behind him?"

"Well, now I think of it, Will, there is something else. I never remembered it at the time, but when my old woman was sweeping a cobweb off the rafters the other day she said: 'Why, here is Will's father's fiddle', and, sure enough, there it was. It had been up there from the day you came into the house, and if we noticed it none of us ever gave it a thought."

"I remember it now," Will exclaimed. "When I was a young boy I used to think I should like to learn to play on it, and I spoke to Miss Warden about it. But she said I had better stick to my lessons, and then as I grew up I could learn it if I still had a fancy to do so."

He got on to a chair, and took it from the rafter on which it had so long lain. Then he carefully wiped the dust off it.

"It looks a very old thing, but that makes no difference in its value to me. I don't see in the least how this can be any clue whatever to my father's identity. Still, I will take it away with me and show it to my lawyer, who is endeavouring to trace for me who my father was."

"And do you think that he will succeed, Will?"

"I rather believe he will. At any rate he has found a gentleman, a baronet, who has the same name and bears the same coat of arms as is on the seal which was in my father's bundle. We are trying now to trace how my father came down here, and where he lived before he started. You see I must get as clear a story as I can before I go to see this gentleman. Mind, I don't want anything from him. He may be as rich as a lord for anything I care, and may refuse to have anything to do with me, but I want to find out to what family I really belong."

"He must be a bad lot," John said, "to allow your father to tramp about the country with a fiddle."

"I would not say that," Will said; "there are always two sides to a story, and we know nothing of my father's reasons for leaving home. It may have been his fault more than his father's, so until I know the rights and wrongs of the case I will form no judgment whatever."

"That is right, my boy," the old woman said. "I have noticed that when a boy runs away from home and goes to sea it is as often his fault as his father's. Sometimes it is six of one and half a dozen of the other; sometimes the father is a brute, but more often the son is a scamp, a worthless fellow, who will settle down to nothing, and brings discredit on his family. So you are quite right, Will, not to form any hard judgment on your grandfather till you know how it all came about."

"I certainly don't mean to, mother. Of course I have so little recollection of my father that it would not worry me much if I found that it were his fault, though of course I would rather know that he was not to blame. Still, I should wish to like my grandfather if I could, and if I heard that my poor father was really entirely to blame I should not grieve much over it."

"I can't help thinking that he was to blame, Will. He was a curious-looking man, with a very bitter expression at times on his face, as if he didn't care for anyone in the world, except perhaps yourself, and he often left you alone in the village when he went and wandered about by himself on the moor."

"Well, well," Will said, "it matters very little to me which way it is. It is a very old story now, and I dare say that there were faults on both sides."

Will spent a long day with the old people and then returned to Scarborough, taking the violin with him. When he told how he had found it Mr. Archer took the instrument and examined it carefully.

"I think really," he said at last, "that this violin may prove a valuable clue, as valuable almost as that coat of arms. That might very well have been picked up or bought for a trifle at a pawnshop, or come into the hands of its possessor in some accidental way. But this is different; this, unless I am greatly mistaken, is a real Amati, and therefore worth at least a couple of hundred guineas. That could hardly have come accidentally into the hands of a wandering musician; it must be a relic of a time when he was in very different circumstances, and may well have been his before he left the home of his childhood."

"Thank you very much for the information, Mr. Archer! I see at once that it may very well be a strong link in the chain."

Two days later he returned to London. Mr. Palethorpe was greatly pleased to hear that he had found so valuable a clue.

"I don't care a rap for family," he said, "but at the same time I suppose every man would like his daughter—" Here he stopped abruptly. "I mean to say," he said, "would like to have for his son-in-law a man of good family. I grant that it is a very stupid prejudice, still I suppose it is a general one. You told me, I think, that your lawyer had found out that this Sir Ralph Gilmore had only two sons, and that one of them had died suddenly and unmarried."

"That is so, sir."

"Then in that case, you see, if you prove your identity you would certainly be heir to the baronetcy."

"I suppose so, sir. I have never given the matter any thought. It is not rank I want, but family. Still, I might not be heir to the baronetcy, for even supposing that my father was really the other son, he might have had children older than I am who remained with their grandfather."

"That is possible," Mr. Palethorpe said, "though unlikely. Why should he have left them behind him when he went out into the world?"

"He might not have wished to bother himself with them; he might have intended to claim them later. No one can say."

"Well, on the whole, I should say that your chance of coming into the baronetcy is distinctly good. It would look well, you know—Captain Sir William Gilmore, R.N."

"We mustn't count our chickens too soon, Mr. Palethorpe," Will laughed; "but nevertheless I do think that the prospects are favourable. Still, I must wait the result of the search that my lawyer has been carrying on."

"Well, you know my house is your home as long as you like to use it."

"Thank you, sir! but I don't like to intrude upon your kindness too much, and I think that I will take a lodging somewhere in the West End, so that I may be within easy reach of you here."

"Well, it must be as you like, lad. In some respects, perhaps, it will be best so. I may remind you, my boy, that it is not always wise for two young people to be constantly in each other's society." And he laughed.

Will made no answer; he had decided to defer putting the question until his claim was settled one way or the other.

In a few days he again called upon his lawyer.

"I have found out enough," the latter said, "to be certain that your father started from London with his violin and you, a child of three. I have considerable hopes that we shall, ere long, get a clue to the place where he lived while in London. The runner has met a woman who remembers distinctly such a man and a sick wife and child lodging in the house of a friend of hers. The friend has moved away and she has lost sight of her, but she knows some people with whom the woman was intimate, and through them we hope to find out where she lives."

"That is good news indeed," Will said. "I had hardly hoped that you would be so successful."

"It is a great piece of luck," the lawyer said. "I have written to my other agents to come home. It will be quite sufficient to prove that he journeyed as a wandering musician for at least fifty miles from London. Of course if further evidence is necessary they can resume their search."

"I have found a clue too, sir," Will said; and he then related the discovery of the Amati, the possession of which showed that the minstrel must at one time have been in wealthy circumstances.

"That is important indeed," the lawyer said, rubbing his hands. "Now, sir, if we can but find out where the man lived in London I think the chain will be complete, especially if he was in comparatively good circumstances when he went there. The woman will also, doubtless, be able to give a description of his wife as well of himself, and with these various proofs in your hand I think you may safely go down and see Sir Ralph Gilmore, whom I shall, of course, prepare by letter for your visit."

Four days afterwards Will received a letter by an office-boy from his lawyer asking him to call.

"My dear sir," he said as Will entered, "I congratulate you most heartily. I think we have the chain complete now. The day before yesterday the Bow Street runner came in to say that he had found the woman, and that she was now living out at Highgate. Yesterday I sent my clerk up to see her, and this is his report. I may tell you that nothing could possibly be more satisfactory."

The document was as follows:

"I called on Mrs. Giles. She is a respectable person who lets her house in lodgings. Twenty-five years ago she had a house in Westminster, and let the drawing-room floor to a gentleman of the name of Gilmore. He was rather tall and dark, and very variable in his temper. He had his wife with him, and two months afterwards a child was born. It was christened at St. Matthew's. I was its god-mother, as they seemed to have very few friends in the town. Mr. Gilmore was out a good deal looking for employment. He used to write of an evening, and I think made money by it. He was very fond of his violin. Sometimes it was soft music he played, but if he was in a bad temper he would make it shriek and cry out, and I used to think there was a devil shut up in it. It was awful! When he came to me he had plenty of money, but it was not long before it began to run short, and they lived very plain. He had all sorts of things, whips and books and dressing-cases. These gradually went, and a year after the child was born they moved upstairs, the rooms being cheaper for them. A year later they occupied one room. The wife fell ill, and the rent was often in arrears. He was getting very shabby in his dress too. The child was three years old when its mother died. He sold all he had left to bury her decently, and as he had no money to pay his arrears of rent, he gave me a silver-mounted looking-glass, which I understood his mother had given him, and he said: 'Don't you sell this, but keep it, and one day or other I will come back and redeem it.' "

"This is the glass, sir," the lawyer said. "My clerk redeemed it after telling her that her lodger had died long ago. He went round to St. Matthew's Church and obtained the certificate of the child's baptism. So I think now, Mr. Gilmore, that we have all the evidence that can be required. Mrs. Giles, on hearing that the child was alive, said she would be happy to come forward and repeat what she had said to my clerk. She seemed very interested in the affair, and is evidently a kindly good-hearted woman. I fancy the silver frame is of Italian workmanship, and will probably be recognized by your grandfather. At any rate, someone there is sure to know it. Now I think you are in a position to go down and see him, and if you wish I will write to him to-day. I shall not go into matters at all, and shall merely say that the son of his son, Mr. William Gilmore, is coming down to have an interview with him, and is provided with all necessary proofs of his birth."

The next morning Will took the coach and went down to Radstock, in Somersetshire. He put up at the inn on his arrival, and next morning hired a gig and drove to the house of Sir Ralph Gilmore. It was a very fine mansion standing in an extensive park.

"Not a bad place by any means," Will said to himself; "I should certainly be proud to bring Alice down here."

He alighted at the entrance and sent in his name, and was immediately shown into the library, where a tall old man was sitting.

"I understand, sir," he said stiffly, "that you claim to be the son of my son, William Gilmore?"

"I do, sir, and I think the proofs I shall give you will satisfy you. You will understand, sir, please, before I do so, that I have no desire whatever to make any claim upon you; I simply wished to be recognized as a member of your family."

The old man looked him up and down, and then motioned him to take a seat.

"And what has become of your father, supposing him to be your father?" he asked with an evident effort.

"He died, sir, nearly twenty years ago."

The old man was silent for some little time, and then he said: "And you, sir, what have you been doing since then? But first, in what circumstances did he die?"

"In the very poorest. For the last two years of his life he earned his living and mine as a wandering fiddler."

"And what became of you?"

"I was brought up, sir, by a fisherman in the village in Yorkshire in which my father died."

"Your manner of speech does not at all agree with that, sir," the old man said sharply.

"No, sir," Will said quietly. "I had the good fortune to attract the interest of the clergyman's daughter, and she was good enough to assist me in my education and urge me on to study."

"And what is your trade or profession, sir?"

"I have the honour, sir, to be post-captain in His Majesty's navy."

"You a post-captain in His Majesty's navy!" the old man said scornfully. "Do you think to take me in with such a tale as that? You might possibly be a very junior lieutenant."

"I am not surprised that you think so, sir. Nevertheless I am indeed what I say. My name appeared in the Gazette a month ago."

"I remember now," the baronet said, "there was a William Gilmore appointed to that rank. The name struck me as I glanced through the Gazette. I had noticed it before on several occasions, and I sighed as I thought to myself how different must have been his career from that of my unfortunate son. Now, sir, I beg that you will let me see your proofs."

"In the first place, sir, there is this seal with your armorial bearings, which was found upon him after his death. This is a looking-glass, one which I believe was given to him by his mother. This is the violin with which he earned his living."

The old man stretched his hand out for the violin, with tears in his eyes.

"I gave it to him," he said, "when he was eighteen. I thought it a great piece of extravagance at the time, but he had such a taste for music that I thought he deserved the best instrument I could get. The looking-glass I also recognize, and of course the seal. Is there anything more, sir?"

"This, sir, is the certificate of my baptism at St. Matthew's Church, Westminster. This is a statement of my lawyer's clerk, who interviewed the woman in whose house my father and mother lived, and my mother died."

The baronet took it and read it in silence.

"I can produce also," Will went on, as the old man laid it down with a sigh, "the evidence of the lady who educated me, and to whom I owe all the good fortune that has befallen me. The old fisherman and his wife who brought me up are still alive, though very old. I have means of obtaining abundant evidence from my shipmates in the various vessels in which I have sailed that I am the boy who left that village at the age of fifteen, and entered as a ship's boy in one of His Majesty's vessels."

"And you are now—?" the baronet asked.

"I am now twenty-three, sir."

"And a captain?"

"That is so, sir. I was made a midshipman before I had been three months on board, partly because I saved the first lieutenant's life, and partly because I understood enough mathematics to take an observation. Of course I served my time as a midshipman, and a year after passing I was made a second lieutenant. By the death of my first lieutenant at the battle of St. Vincent I succeeded to his post, and obtained the rank of captain for my share in the battle of Camperdown. I received post rank the other day when, in command of the Ethalion, I brought the Bellone, a frigate of Admiral Bompart's fleet, a prize to Portsmouth."

"Well, sir, your career has indeed been creditable and successful, and I am proud to acknowledge, as my grandson and heir to my title, a young gentleman who has so greatly distinguished himself. For I do acknowledge you. The proofs you have given me leave no doubt in my mind whatever that you are the son of my second son. You were, of course, too young to remember whether he ever spoke to you of me."

"Yes, sir. I was but five at the time of his death, and have but a very faint recollection of him."

"Of course, of course," the baronet said; "it was a sad affair. Perhaps I was to blame to some extent, though I have never thought so. Your father was, as doubtless you know, a second son. Although somewhat eccentric in disposition, and given to fits of passion, I had no serious occasion to complain of him until he went up to Oxford. There he got into a wild and dissipated set, and became the wildest and most dissipated among them. His great talent for music was his bane. He was continually asked out. After being two years up there, and costing me very large sums in paying his debts, he was sent down from the university. He would not turn his hands to anything, and went up to London with the idea of making his way somehow. He made nothing but debts, got into various scandalous affairs, and dragged our name through the dust. At last he came home one day and calmly informed me that he had married a woman in a rank of life beneath him. She was, I believe, the daughter of a horse-dealer of very doubtful character. He also said that he wanted L1200 to enable him to start fair. I lost my temper and said that he should not have another pound from me. We had a desperate quarrel, and he left the house, taking with him all his belongings. It was four years before I took any steps to bring him back. Then his elder brother died, and on that I took every means to find him out. That he would ever be a credit to me I did not even dare to hope, but at least he could not be allowed to live in poverty. I advertised widely and employed detectives for months, but all without result. I have long since given up any hopes of ever seeing him again. I am glad, indeed, to find that the title, at my death, will not go to a distant cousin, but to my grandson, a gentleman in every way worthy of it. You are not married, I hope?"

"I am not married, sir; but I think, if you had asked the question, I should have replied that I was engaged, or rather had hopes of being engaged soon."

"Who is she?" the baronet asked quickly.

"She is the only daughter of a successful West Indian planter, a man of the highest standing in the colony, who has now returned and settled here."

The baronet heaved a sigh of relief.

"That is well," he said; "and considering that you have been all your life at sea, and have had no opportunity of making the acquaintance of ladies of titled families, it is better than I could have expected. As I do not know the procedure in these matters I had better consult my lawyer as to the best way of using these relics and the proofs you have given me that you are my grandson. It may be that my recognition of you is sufficient, but it would be as well to make sure that at my death there will be no opposition to your succession. You will stop here for a day or two, I hope, before going up to town to arrange the little affair you spoke of, and I think if your chances were good before, they will be still better now that you are recognized as heir to a baronetcy and one of the finest estates in England."

"I have never thought of that, sir. I have my profession and nearly L40,000 of prize-money, which will enable us to live in great comfort; and indeed I anticipate that her father will wish us to reside with him, or, at any rate, that she shall do so while I am away on service."

"I hope you will not think of remaining at sea. It would be monstrous for a man heir to L10,000 a year, besides very large accumulations, to be knocking about the world and running the risk of having his head taken off with a round-shot every day. I earnestly entreat you not to dream of such a thing."

"I will think it over. I am fond of the sea, but shall certainly be fonder of my wife, and I feel that your wishes in the matter should weigh with me."

"Well, I hope you will at least spend a portion of your time here. It will be your future home, and it is well that you should acquaint yourself with your duties. Besides, remember the years that I have been a lonely man."

"I would rather not give a promise, but I shall certainly take your wishes into consideration."

"Well, I am content with that, my boy. You will stay here now a few days, I hope. I have so much to hear of your life, and of course I wish to become better acquainted with you."

Will remained a week, during which time he made a great advance in the baronet's affections, and the old man seemed to gain some years of life as he walked in the garden and drove through the country with his young heir, whom he was delighted to introduce to everyone.

When he returned to London he at once drove over to Dulwich.

"Well, Will, what is the result of it all?" Mr. Palethorpe asked, for Will had purposely abstained from going to their house after his last interview with his lawyer. "Alice has been imagining all sorts of things: that you had been run over, or had run away with some girl."

"Father! I never thought that for a moment," his daughter said indignantly, "though I have been very anxious, for it is nearly a fortnight since he was here."

"I have done a good deal in the time," Will said. "I did not write to you, because I wanted to tell you. I am acknowledged as the grandson and heir to the title and estates of Sir Ralph Gilmore."

Both gave an exclamation of pleasure.

"And now," he said, taking her hand, "I only need one thing to complete my happiness, and that is, that you will share my good fortune with me. May I hope that it will be so?"

"Certainly you may, Will. I think I have loved you ever since I was a little girl, and acknowledge that my principal reason for inducing father to come to live in England was that I believed I should have more chance of meeting you again here than in Jamaica."

"I am heartily glad, too, that it is all settled," Mr. Palethorpe said. "I have seen it coming on ever since you met us the first time in London, and I may say that I have seen it with pleasure, for there is no one to whom I would sooner trust her happiness than you. Now I will leave you to yourselves."

It need hardly be said that Alice was as anxious as Sir Ralph Gilmore that Will should quit the navy, and he consequently yielded to their entreaties. He wrote to his grandfather to tell him of his engagement, and the baronet wrote back by return of post to Mr. Palethorpe, begging him to come down with his daughter and Will for a time.

"I only half know him at present," he said, "and as I understand that just at present he will not want to leave the young lady of his choice, you will gladden an old man if you will all three come down to stay with me."

Three months later the marriage took place from the house at Dulwich. Sir Ralph Gilmore came up for the ceremony, and the change that the three months had effected in him was extraordinary. He was the gayest of the party.

Among those present at the ceremony were also Will's two devoted friends, Dimchurch and Tom Stevens. The baronet was greatly pleased with their affection and pride in Will, and offered both good posts on the estate. So none of the comrades went to sea again.

The baronet gave into Will's hands the entire management of the estate and house, so his death, seven years later, made practically no difference to Will's position. Will took to country pursuits, and became one of the most popular landlords in Somersetshire, while his wife was quite one of the most popular ladies in the county. Her father, up to the time of his death, spent most of his time down there, and they used the house at Dulwich as their abode when they stayed in London during the season. Mrs. Archer came more than once to stay with them, as their most honoured guest. Stevens and Dimchurch both married. The former became head-gamekeeper on the estate, a post in which he showed great talent. The latter took a small cottage with a bit of land just outside the park gates, for he was able to live very comfortably on the interest of his prize-money. He had no children of his own, and his great pleasure was to wander about with Will's, telling them of their father's adventures in the great war.

It was not till well on in the sixties that Sir William Gilmore, captain, R.N., departed this life, a few weeks after the death of his wife, leaving behind him a large family to carry on the old name.



THE END



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The heroes of this powerful story go to Peru to look for the treasure which the Incas hid when the Spaniards invaded the country. Their task is both arduous and dangerous, but though they are often disappointed, their courage and perseverance are at last amply rewarded.

"The interest never flags for one moment, and the story is told with vigour."—World.





With Roberts to Pretoria: A Tale of the South African War. With 12 Illustrations by WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I., and a Map. 6s.

The hero takes part in the series of battles that end in the disaster at Magersfontein, is captured and imprisoned in the race-course at Pretoria, but escapes in time to fight at Paardeberg and march with the victorious army to Bloemfontein. He rides with Colonel Mahon's column to the relief of Mafeking, and accomplishes the return journey with such despatch as to be able to join in the triumphant advance to Pretoria.

"In this story of the South African war Mr. Henty proves once more his incontestable pre-eminence as a writer for boys."—Standard.

—Both Sides the Border: A Tale of Hotspur and Glendower. With 12 page Illustrations by RALPH PEACOCK. 6s.

The hero casts in his lot with the Percys, and becomes esquire to Sir Henry, the gallant Hotspur. He is sent on several dangerous and important missions in which he acquits himself with great valour.

"With boys the story should rank among Mr. Henty's best."—Standard.

"A vivid picture of that strange past ... when England and Scotland ... were torn by faction and civil war."—Onward.

—Through Russian Snows: or, Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow. With 8 page Illustrations by W. H. OVEREND. 5s.

Julian Wyatt becomes, quite innocently, mixed up with smugglers, who carry him to France, and hand him over as a prisoner to the French. He subsequently regains his freedom by joining Napoleon's army in the campaign against Russia.

"The story of the campaign is very graphically told."—St. James's Gazette.

"One of Mr. Henty's best books, which will be hailed with joy by his many eager readers."—Journal of Education.

"Is full of life and action."—Journal of Education.

—Out with Garibaldi: A Story of the Liberation of Italy. With 8 page Illustrations by W. RAINEY, R.I., and two Maps. 5s.

Mr. Henty makes the liberation of Italy by Garibaldi the groundwork of an exciting tale of adventure. The hero is an English lad who joins the expedition and takes a prominent part in the extraordinary series of operations that ended in the fall of the Neapolitan kingdom.

"A first-rate story of stirring deeds."—Daily Chronicle.

"Full of hard fighting, gallant rescues, and narrow escapes."—Graphic.

At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War. With 12 Illustrations by WAL PAGET, and 2 Maps. 6s.

Harry Lindsay is carried off to the hills and brought up as a Mahratta. At the age of sixteen he becomes an officer in the service of the Mahratta prince at Poona, and afterwards receives a commission in the army of the East India Company. His courage and enterprise are rewarded by quick promotion, and at the end of the war he sails for England, where he succeeds in establishing his right to the family estates.

"A brisk, dashing narrative."—Bookman.

—Under Wellington's Command: A Tale of the Peninsular War. With 12 page Illustrations by WAL PAGET. 6s.

In this stirring romance Mr. Henty gives us the further adventures of Terence O'Connor, the hero of With Moore at Corunna. We are told how, in alliance with a small force of Spanish guerrillas, the gallant regiment of Portuguese levies commanded by Terence keeps the whole of the French army in check at a critical period of the war, rendering invaluable service to the Iron Duke and his handful of British troops.

"An admirable exposition of Mr. Henty's masterly method of combining instruction with amusement."—World.

—To Herat and Cabul: A Story of the first Afghan War. With 8 full-page Illustrations by C. M. SHELDON, and Map. 5s.

The hero takes a distinguished part in the defence of Herat, and subsequently obtains invaluable information for the British army during the first Afghan war. He is fortunately spared the horrors of the retreat from Cabul, and shares in the series of operations by which that most disastrous blunder was retrieved.

"We can heartily commend it to boys, old and young."—Spectator.

—With Cochrane the Dauntless: A Tale of his Exploits. With 12 page Illustrations by W. H. MARGETSON. 6s.

It would be hard to find, even in sensational fiction, a more daring leader than Lord Cochrane, or a career which supplies so many thrilling exploits. The manner in which, almost single-handed, he scattered the French fleet in the Basque Roads is one of the greatest feats in English naval history.

"As rousing and interesting a book as boys could wish for."—Saturday Review.

"This tale we specially recommend."—St. James's Gazette.

Redskin and Cow-Boy: A Tale Of the Western Plains. With 12 page Illustrations by ALFRED PEARSE. 6s.

Hugh Tunstall accompanies a frontiersman on a hunting expedition on the Plains, and then seeks employment as a cow-boy on a cattle ranch. His experiences during a "round up" present in picturesque form the toilsome, exciting, adventurous life of a cow-boy; while the perils of a frontier settlement are vividly set forth. Subsequently, the hero joins a wagon-team, and the interest is sustained in a fight with, and capture of, brigands.

"A strong interest of open-air life and movement pervades the whole book."—Scotsman.

—With Buller in Natal: or, A Born Leader. With 10 page Illustrations by W. RAINEY, R.I., and a Map. 6s.

The heroic story of the relief of Ladysmith forms the theme of one of the most powerful romances that have come from Mr. Henty's pen. When the war breaks out, the hero, Chris King, and his friends band themselves together under the title of the Maritzburg Scouts. From first to last the boy scouts are constantly engaged in perilous and exciting enterprises, from which they always emerge triumphant, thanks to their own skill and courage, and the dash and ingenuity of their leader.

"Just the sort of book to inspire an enterprising boy."—Army and Navy Gazette.

—By England's Aid: or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604). With 10 page Illustrations by ALFRED PEARSE, and 4 Maps. 6s. & 3s. 6d.

Two English lads go to Holland in the service of one of "the fighting Veres". After many adventures one of the lads finds himself on board a Spanish ship at the defeat of the Armada, and escapes from Spain only to fall into the hands of the Corsairs. He is successful, however, in getting back to Spain, and regains his native country after the capture of Cadiz.

"Boys know and love Mr. Henty's books of adventure, and will welcome his tale of the freeing of the Netherlands."—Athenaeum.

—Condemned as a Nihilist: A Story of Escape from Siberia. With 8 page Illustrations by WAL PAGET. 5s.

Godfrey Bullen, a young Englishman resident in St. Petersburg, becomes involved in various political plots, resulting in his seizure and exile to Siberia. After an unsuccessful attempt to escape, he gives himself up to the Russian authorities. Eventually he escapes, and reaches home, having safely accomplished a perilous journey which lasts nearly two years.

"The escape from Siberia is well told and the description of prison life is very graphic."—Academy.

The Lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venice, with 6 page Illustrations. Cloth elegant, 3s. 6d.

A story of Venice at a period when intrigue, crime, and bloodshed were rife. The hero, the son of an English trader, displays a fine manliness, and is successful in extricating his friends from imminent dangers. Finally he contributes to the victories of the Venetians at Porto d'Anzo and Chioggia.

"Every boy should read The Lion of St. Mark."—Saturday Review.

—The Dragon and the Raven: or, The Days of King Alfred. With 8 page Illustrations by C. J. STANILAND. 5s.

In this story the author gives an account of the desperate struggle between Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England. The hero, a young Saxon, takes part in all the battles fought by King Alfred, and the incidents in his career are unusually varied and exciting.

"We have nothing but praise for this story, which is excellently written, and will make the history of the period to which it relates a reality to its readers."—School Guardian.

—The Bravest of the Brave: or, with Peterborough in Spain. With 8 page Illustrations by H. M. PAGET. 5s.

There are few great leaders whose life and actions have so completely fallen into oblivion as those of the Earl of Peterborough. He showed a genius for warfare which has never been surpassed. Round the fortunes of Jack Stilwell, the hero, and of Peterborough, Mr. Henty has woven a brilliant narrative of the War of the Spanish Succession (1705-6).

"The adventures of the aide-de-camp, Jack, will probably be found to be no less interesting than the marvellous operations of the General himself, in which he takes a leading part."—Spectator.

—For Name and Fame: or, To Cabul with Roberts. With 8 page Illustrations. 5s.

After being wrecked and going through many stirring adventures among the Malays, the hero of this story finds his way to Calcutta, and enlists in a regiment proceeding to the Afghan Passes. He accompanies the force under General Roberts to the Peiwar Kotal, is wounded, taken prisoner, and carried to Cabul, whence he is transferred to Candahar, and takes part in the final defeat of the army of Ayoub Khan.

"The book teems with spirited scenes and stirring adventures, and the boy who reads it attentively will acquire a sound knowledge on subjects that are of vital importance to our Indian Empire."—School Guardian.

—Maori and Settler: A Story of the New Zealand War. With 8 page Illustrations by ALFRED PEARSE. 5s.

The Renshaws lose their property and emigrate to New Zealand. Wilfrid, a strong, self-reliant lad, is the mainstay of the household. The odds seem hopelessly against the party, but they succeed in establishing themselves happily in one of the pleasantest of the New Zealand valleys.

"A book which all young people, but especially boys, will read with avidity."—Athenaeum.

—Beric the Briton: A Story of the Roman Invasion of Britain. With 12 page Illustrations by W. PARKINSON. 6s.

Beric is a boy-chief of a British tribe which takes a prominent part in the insurrection under Boadicea: and after the defeat of that heroic queen he continues the struggle in the fen-country. Ultimately Beric is defeated and carried captive to Rome, where he succeeds in saving a Christian maid by slaying a lion in the arena, and is rewarded by being made the personal protector of Nero. Finally, he escapes and returns to Britain, where he becomes a wise ruler of his own people.

"He is a hero of the most attractive kind.... One of the most spirited and well-imagined stories Mr. Henty has written."—Saturday Review.

"His conflict with a lion in the arena is a thrilling chapter."—School Board Chronicle.

"Full of every form of heroism and pluck."—Christian World.

—The Dash for Khartoum: A Tale of the Nile Expedition. With 10 page Illustrations by JOHN SCHOeNBERG and J. NASH. 6s.

In the record of recent British history there is no more captivating page for boys than the story of the Nile campaign, and the attempt to rescue General Gordon. For, in the difficulties which the expedition encountered, and in the perils which it overpassed, are found all the excitement of romance, as well as the fascination which belongs to real events.

"The Dash for Khartoum is your ideal boys' book."—Tablet.

"It is literally true that the narrative never flags a moment."—Academy.

"The Dash for Khartoum will be appreciated even by those who don't ordinarily care a dash for anything."—Punch.

—With Wolfe in Canada: or, The Winning of a Continent. With 12 page Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE. 6s.

Mr. Henty tells the story of the struggle between Britain and France for supremacy on the North American continent. The fall of Quebec decided that the Anglo-Saxon race should predominate in the New World; that Britain, and not France, should take the lead among the nations.

"A moving tale of military exploit and thrilling adventure."—Daily News.

—Held Fast for England: A Tale of the Siege of Gibraltar. With 8 page Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE. 5s.

The story deals with one of the most memorable sieges in history. The hero, a young Englishman resident in Gibraltar, takes a brave and worthy part in the long defence, and we learn with what bravery, resourcefulness, and tenacity the Rock was held for England.

"There is no cessation of exciting incident throughout the story."—Athenaeum.

—In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain. With 12 page Illustrations by CHARLES M. SHELDON. 6s.

The hero is a young officer in the Irish Brigade, which for many years after the siege of Limerick formed the backbone of the French army. He goes through many stirring adventures, successfully carries out dangerous missions in Spain, saves a large portion of the French army at Oudenarde, and even has the audacity to kidnap the Prime Minister of England.

"A stirring book of military adventure."—Scotsman.

—At Agincourt: A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris. With 12 page Illustrations by WAL PAGET. 6s.

Sir Eustace de Villeroy, in journeying from Hampshire to his castle in France, made young Guy Aylmer one of his escort. Soon thereafter the castle was attacked, and the English youth displayed such valour that his liege-lord made him commander of a special mission to Paris. This he accomplished, returning in time to take part in the campaign against the French which ended in the glorious victory for England at Agincourt.

"Cannot fail to commend itself to boys of all ages."—Manchester Courier.

—A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. With 8 page Illustrations by W. B. WOLLEN. 5s.

The hero, a young Englishman, emigrates to Australia, where he gets employment as an officer in the mounted police. A few years of active work gain him promotion to a captaincy. In that post he greatly distinguishes himself, and finally leaves the service and settles down as a squatter.

"A stirring story capitally told."—Guardian.



"Young reader have no better friends than Blackie & Son."—Westminster Gazette.

Blackie & Son's Story Books for Boys

———————

G. MANVILLE FENN

Quicksilver! or, The Boy with no Skid to his Wheel. With 6 page Illustrations by F. DADD. 3s. 6d.

Dr. Grayson has a theory that any boy, if rightly trained, can be made into a gentleman. He chooses a boy from the workhouse, with a bad reputation but with excellent instincts, and adopts him, the story narrating the adventures of the mercurial lad. The restless boyish nature, with its inevitable tendency to get into scrapes, is sympathetically and humorously drawn.

"Quicksilver is little short of an inspiration. In it that prince of story-writers for boys—George Manville Fenn—has surpassed himself. It is an ideal book for a boy's library."—Practical Teacher.

"Not only a most engrossing story, but full of noble impulses and lessons."—Newcastle Journal.

—In the King's Name. Illustrated. 3s. 6d. New Edition.

A spirited story of the Jacobite times, concerning the adventures of Hilary Leigh, a young naval officer on board the Kestrel, in the preventive service off the coast of Sussex. Leigh is taken prisoner by the adherents of the Pretender, amongst whom is an early friend and patron, who desires to spare his life, but will not release him. The narrative is full of exciting and often humorous incident.

"Mr. Fenn has won a foremost place among writers for boys. This is, we think, the best of all his productions in this field."—Daily News.

—The Golden Magnet: A Tale of the Land of the Incas. With 12 page Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE. 3s.

The tale is of a romantic youth, who leaves home to seek his fortune in South America. He is accompanied by a faithful companion, who, in the capacity both of comrade and henchman, does true service, and shows the dogged courage of an English lad during their strange adventures.

"There could be no more welcome present for a boy. There is not a dull page, and many will be read with breathless interest."—Journal of Education.

Capt. F. S. BRERETON, R.A.M.C.

Foes of the Red Cockade: A Story of the French Revolution. Illustrated by WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I. 6s.

Two English lads, wrecked at St. Malo, are persecuted as Aristocrats. They see the Reign of Terror in all its horror, but fortunately escape to the chateau of an uncle in La Vendee. A quarrel with a cousin ensues, and fighting occurs at the same time with the Republicans. As a scout the elder does gallant service till captured and taken to Paris, where he confronts Robespierre and falls into his cousin's hands. Again, however, he escapes, and after many exciting experiences finally reaches safety and friends.

"Cannot fail to give great enjoyment to many boys and girls, and not a little profit."—Literary World.

—In the Grip of the Mullah: A Tale of Adventure in Somaliland. Illustrated by CHARLES M. SHELDON. With a Map. 5s.

The hero organizes a search-party and advances into Somaliland to rescue his father, who has fallen into the hands of the Mullah. The little force is opposed from the outset, but undaunted they push forward, and in spite of many difficulties and dangers succeed in accomplishing their object. The interest increases as the story advances, and becomes intense when the hero penetrates alone into the heart of the Mullah's camp.

"A fresher, more exciting, and more spirited tale could not be wished for."—British Weekly.

—One of the Fighting Scouts: A Tale of Guerilla Warfare in South Africa. Illustrated by STANLEY L. WOOD. With a Map. 5s.

This story deals with the guerrilla aspect of the Boer War, and shows how George Ransome is compelled to leave his father's farm and take service with the British. He is given the command of a band of scouts as a reward for gallantry, and with these he punishes certain rebels for a piece of rascality, and successfully attacks Botha's commando. Thanks to his knowledge of the veldt he is of signal service to his country, and even outwits the redoubtable De Wet.

"Altogether an unusually good story."—Yorkshire Post.

—Under the Spangled Banner: A Tale of the Spanish-American War. With 8 Illustrations by PAUL HARDY. 5s.

Hal Marchant is in Cuba before the commencement of hostilities. A Spaniard who has been frustrated in an attempt to rob Hal's employer attacks the hacienda and is defeated, but turns the tables by denouncing Hal as a spy. The hero makes good his escape from Santiago, and afterwards fights for America both on land and at sea. The story gives a vivid and at the same time accurate account of this memorable struggle.

"Just the kind of book that a boy would delight in."—Schoolmaster.

HERBERT STRANG

Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest. Illustrated by CHARLES M. SHELDON. With 3 Plans. 5s.

Field-Marshal Lord Wolseley writes:—"It is just the sort of book I would give to any school-boy, for I know he would enjoy every page of it."

The Rev. Dr. Wood, Head-master of Harrow, writes:—"I have read it through with interest. It is an excellent book for boys, full of vigour and romance."

"The fierce struggles between the Bahima and the Arabs, with their Manyema allies, are told with a vigour and enthusiasm that will stir the heart of any boy.... When we add that Mr. Strang gives us a really graphic and thrilling impression of travel in the forests of Africa, and an almost living acquaintance with Arab and Negro, it is scarcely necessary to recommend it to boys as a delightful story of African adventure."—Spectator.

Dr. GORDON STABLES, R.N.

In the Great White Land: A Tale of the Antarctic Ocean. With 6 Illustrations by J. A. WALTON. 3s. 6d.

This is a most fascinating story from beginning to end. It is a true picture of what daring healthful British men and boys can do, written by an author whose name is a household word wherever the English language is spoken. All is described with a master's hand, and the plot is just such as boys love.

"The narrative goes with a swing and a dash from start to finish."—Public Opinion.

ERNEST GLANVILLE

In search of the Okapi: A Story of Adventure in Central Africa. Illustrated by WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I. 6s.

Two school chums join an expedition into the unexplored reaches of the vast central forest which the Okapi inhabits. The search for the strange animal, however, serves merely as an excuse for the journey, and once the little party is afloat on the Congo they go whither fortune leads them, and many and exciting are their adventures in the unknown wilds.

"A story to make a boy's heart throb with eager interest."—Birmingham Gazette.

The Diamond Seekers: A Story of Adventure in South Africa. With 8 Illustrations by WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I. 6s.

The discovery of the plan of the diamond mine, the dangers incurred in reaching the wild, remote spot in an armoured wagon, and the many incidents of farm and veldt life, are vividly described by an author who knows the country well.

"We have seldom seen a better story for boys."—Guardian.

FREDERICK HARRISON

The Boys of Wynport College. With 6 Illustrations by HAROLD COPPING. 3s. New Edition.

The hero and his chums differ as widely in character as in personal appearance. We have Patrick O'Flahertie, the good-natured Irish boy; Jack Brookes, the irrepressible humorist; Davie Jackson, the true-hearted little lad, on whose haps and mishaps the plot to a great extent turns; and the hero himself, who finds in his experiences at Wynport College a wholesome corrective of a somewhat lax home training.