"There are many of the principal merchants and others at Kingston even now who would, young gentlemen, if you were to ask them, vouch for the truth of the circumstance. Just ask them, and hear what they'll say. The curious part of it was, that though so tame with me, he would attack anybody else, and not a seaman from any of the ships dared to attempt swimming on shore as they had frequently before done. In fact he did swallow one or two; and I believe that he was voted a perfect nuisance, so that everyone was glad when we and our pet left the harbour to prosecute our voyage. Of course he followed us; and I used every morning to heave him a piece of pork for his breakfast, a few casks of which I bought cheap of a Jew on purpose. It was measly, but he didn't mind that. And now I'm coming to the melancholy part of the history connected with my pet shark. But I have talked a good deal, and in this warm weather it's an exertion even to use one's jaws; so, young gentlemen, you must excuse me from continuing my veracious narrative for the present."

"Oh, do go on, Mr Johnson—do go on," we all exclaimed; but the boatswain was inexorable, and, as it happened, it was some time before we heard the sequel to his history of the shark.

The next day, Grey, and I, and Spellman were ordered to join the schooner with twenty hands. Perigal still kept command, and at the last moment McAllister came on board to act as his first-lieutenant, with the assistant-surgeon Macquoid, and a clerk, Bobus, as purser. Of course the schooner did not require so many officers and men to navigate her, but we hoped to take many prizes, and hands of course would be wanted to bring them home. We invited the old colonel to accompany us. With a most amusing grimace, and an inimitable shake of the head and shrugs of the shoulders, he answered,—"Ah, mes jeunes gentlemens, I do love vous va-a mosh; but de mer—de terrible mer. I do vish de verld ver von big earth and no vater." So we had to leave the colonel and our French lessons behind; but we assured him that we would study hard during our absence. Good as were our intentions, it was not very likely that we could adhere to them, and, by the expression of his countenance, the colonel showed that he was strongly of that opinion.

We sailed at daybreak, and had the land breeze to take us out of the harbour. Our course was to the southward, towards the well-known Spanish Main. Our schooner was the Espoir. She sailed well, and carried two eighteen-pounders and six long eights, so that we had every reason to hope that we should pick up some prizes, if we did not get taken ourselves. That last contingency did not occur to us. Though it was hot, and we were rather crowded in the cabin, we had a very pleasant time on board. We naturally messed together, and had secured all the good things from the shore, in the shape of fruits and vegetables, and poultry and liquor, which we could collect. It is very well for poets and authors to make their heroes contented with hard fare. I can only say that midshipmen are not, if they know that better is to be got; and I have observed, whenever I have been in the society of poets and other authors, that, practically, they have enjoyed a good dinner as much as any class of people could do, and been very much inclined to grumble if they did not get it, too. We were out some days without sighting a single sail, but we were not the less merry, living upon hope, and the good fare our caterer, Macquoid, had collected. At length a sail was seen, and chase made. It was some time before we could make out whether the stranger was a man-of-war or merchantman, a friend or foe. She was a brig we soon discovered, and when we saw her up helm and run off before the wind, we had no doubt as to her pacific character. Still she might be English, and, if so, we should have had our chase for nothing. She was a slow sailer, for we came up with her rapidly. We had showed no colours, and had got her within range of our long guns, when up went the French ensign. A cheer burst from our throats. It would have been more hearty if we had thought she had been armed. We showed our colours in return. On we stood, firing a shot wide of her as a signal for her to heave-to. She obeyed, and we heaving-to near her, McAllister, with Spellman and a boat's crew, was sent to take possession. The boat was sent back with several of the French crew. The prize was not a rich one, but she was too valuable to be destroyed, so Perigal directed Spellman to take her to Jamaica, allowing him four hands. Miss Susan did not at all like having his cruise cut so short, but we congratulated him on the honour of having a separate command, being ourselves very well contented to continue on board the Espoir. For two days more we stood south, when, at daybreak, another sail was descried from the mast-head. She was a schooner, and from the squareness of her yards, her taut masts, and her white canvas, we suspected that, should she be an enemy, she would prove a very different sort of customer to the slow-sailing brig we had just before captured. That she was not afraid of us was very evident, for, throwing her head sails aback, she awaited our coming. In a short time we made out the French ensign flying at her peak, and we concluded that she was a privateer, probably with a large crew, and well armed. Perigal, on this, called all hands aft. "Now, my lads," said he, "that craft is an enemy; very likely twice as many men dance on her decks as on ours; but they are Frenchmen, and I want to show that we are English, every one, to the backbone, and see how quickly we can take her. I have nothing more to say, except to tell you not to throw your shot away, and, if it comes to boarding, when you strike, strike home." Three hearty cheers was the response to this address. The old mate was not much given to oratory, but, when he spoke, he never failed to speak to the purpose. Arms were served out, and pistols were stuck in belts, and cutlasses buckled on; muskets were loaded, and arranged in readiness for use; powder and round-shot were brought on deck, and the men, stripped to the waist, with handkerchiefs bound round their heads, stood ready for action. They looked as grim and determined a set as a commanding officer would wish to see; but still, jokes were bandied about, one from the other, and it did not seem to occur to any of them that, before another hour of time had slipped by, in all probability several might be numbered with the dead. Ned Bambrick was at the helm, with his eye cast ever and anon at the canvas, and then at the Frenchman, as we glided on rapidly towards him, just as cool and unconcerned as if he was standing up to speak to a friend. We had the weather-gauge, and Perigal resolved to keep it. Supposing the enemy superior to us in strength, it would give us an important and necessary advantage. To a sailor's eye it was a pretty sight to see the two schooners approaching. The Espoir was a handsome craft, and so was her antagonist. We did not at first show our colours. No sooner, however, did we hoist them than the Frenchman filled his sails and tacked, in the hope of weathering on us, firing at the same time a gun of defiance. We suspected that he had not till then known exactly what to make of us, and possibly had taken us for a friend. However, the Frenchmen were now in for it, and, like brave men, were resolved to fight it out. We were now near enough for our long eights to tell, and the very first shot, flying high, knocked away the jaws of the enemy's main gaff, wounding at the same time the head of the mainmast. At seeing this, a hearty cheer rose from all on board. It was a prognostic of success.

"If we'd tried to do that same we could not have succeeded," observed McAllister. "I say, Perigal, you must let me take that craft to Jamaica."

"With all my heart, my boy, when she's ours; but it's ill-luck to give away what doesn't belong to us," answered our skipper.

"Never mind; but she will be before many minutes are over," persisted McAllister. "Now, lads, just follow suit to that shot, and we'll do for the mounseers in a very short time."

By this fortunate shot we had the enemy almost in our power. She ran off before the wind, and we soon came up with her, and hung on her quarter, so that she could rarely bring more than one gun at a time to bear on us. She had fired several shots without effect, but at last, to make amends, one came flying diagonally across our deck, taking off the head of one of our men, and knocking over a second, who survived but a few moments. A few more such fatal shots would sadly have thinned our numbers. The enemy had a good number of men on deck, but not so many as we expected. Some were sent aloft to try and repair the damage to the gaff, and this, as we had got within musket range, we did our best to prevent by keeping up a fire of small-arms at them. I had seized a musket, and with others was blazing away, not very effectually, for the men continued their work, and no one appeared to be hurt, when, just as I had fired, I saw a man drop stone dead upon the deck. It was my shot had done the deed. A sickening sensation came over me. I felt as if I had committed a murder. It would have been different had I hit one of the men at the guns, but the poor fellow was performing, so it seemed, but an ordinary piece of a seaman's duty; my blood was cool, I did not feel that he was an enemy. Perhaps the idea was foolish; it did not last long. The rest of the men aloft were soon driven on deck, and shooting ahead, we ranged up alongside, and poured in the whole of our broadside. The enemy returned our fire, but our men worked their guns almost twice as quickly as the Frenchmen did, aiming much better, and the effect was soon apparent in their shattered bulwarks, decks strewed with slain, and torn sails.

"Blaze away, lads," shouted McAllister, as he went from gun to gun, pointing one, lending a hand to run out another, or to load a third.

Still the gallant Frenchmen fought on. They were very unlike old Pinchard and his men; but there was this difference, they were sailors, whereas the others were soldiers, and it was the mal de mer in that instance deserved the credit of the victory more than we did. This close firing soon got our blood up, and I now felt anxious to run the enemy aboard, that we might be at them with our cutlasses. I have not often found Frenchmen foolhardy: they know when they are beaten. Englishmen don't, and so sometimes stumble against all rule into victory. Just as Perigal had ordered Bambrick to put the helm to starboard, to run the enemy aboard, the French captain hauled down his flag, and, coming to the gangway, made us a profound bow, as an additional sign that he had struck. We immediately ceased firing, and as our boats had escaped damage, one was lowered, and McAllister and I went on board to take possession. We had certainly contrived in a short hour considerably to spoil the beauty of the French schooner, and dreadfully to diminish the number of her crew. Her brave captain and most of his officers were wounded, and six men were killed and ten wounded. Her captain received us on the quarter-deck, where he stood ready to deliver his sword with the greatest politeness, as if it was really a pleasant act he was performing, and assured us that it was the fortune de la guerre, and that he had learnt to yield to fortune without a murmur.

"He really is one of the pleasantest Frenchmen I have ever met," observed McAllister. "We must treat him with all consideration."

Curiously enough, this remark of my messmate kept continually running in my head, and I could not help repeating it. We had plenty to do to bury the dead, wash the decks, repair the masts, and spars, and bulwarks, and to splice the rigging, and bend fresh sails. McAllister was directed to go as prize-master, and I with Bambrick, Foley and four other hands accompanied him; some of the French crew were removed on board the Espoir, but the captain, two officers, and eight men remained with us as prisoners.

Perigal had, in fact, already, more prisoners than his own crew now mustered. Our new prize was the Audacieuse, a larger vessel and better armed than the Espoir. By nightfall we had made great progress in getting the prize to rights, and as our own vessel had suffered but little, we were able to bestow all our strength upon her. Both Perigal and McAllister were very anxious to continue the cruise together. The objection to this was the number of our prisoners. Still, as McAllister argued, the commander of the prize, Lieutenant Preville was a very quiet sort of fellow, and the men left on board were orderly and well-behaved, so that he should have no difficulty in keeping them under.

"But, remember, McAllister, that crews have sometimes risen against their captors, and retaken their vessels. It will be necessary to be very careful," observed Perigal.

"Oh, never fear, my old fellow; I should think that we seven Englishmen could keep a dozen or more Frenchmen in order," answered McAllister, with a somewhat scornful laugh. "If we go into action, we will clap them under hatches, and they will be quiet enough, depend on that."

At length Perigal yielded, and the Audacieuse's mast-head having been fished, and all other damages made good, we continued our cruise together. Lieutenant Preville was a gentleman, and really a very pleasant fellow; and, to show our appreciation of his good qualities, we invited him to live in his own cabin and to partake of the delicacies which he had laid in for his own especial use, which was generous on our part; and which conduct he did not fail to acknowledge by doing ample justice to the viands. He frequently, too, would tuck up his sleeves, and, going into the galley, would cook dishes, which I doubt that any Parisian chef could have surpassed.

"Ah, ma foi," he observed in French, when we complimented him on his success, "in my opinion a man has no right to claim the character of a civilised being, much less of a chef, unless he can produce a complete dinner from an old tom-cat and a bundle of nettle-tops. He should depend on the fire and the sources managed by his own skill. The rest of the materials are nothing. The fire brings everything to the same condition." Certainly Lieutenant Preville managed to give us an infinite variety of dishes, to all appearance, the foundation of which, to the best of my belief, was salt pork, and beef of a very tough and dry nature. Of course, such a man would soon win his way into the good graces of far more stoical beings than English midshipmen are apt to be at present, or were in those good old days.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"Well, Marmaduke, my boy, we are having a jolly cruise of it," observed McAllister one afternoon, as we walked the deck together, having just partaken of an especially good dinner, dressed by our most polite and obsequious prisoner, Lieutenant Preville. "If we could but fall in with two or three more fat prizes we should be able to set up as independent gentlemen when we get back home again, and I should be able to regain the lands of the McAllisters from the southern churl who has dared to take possession of them."

"They are not very extensive, then, I conclude," I observed. "A midshipman's share of prize-money, even for the richest galleon of old Spain, would not go far to purchase much of an estate."

"Extensive! my boy; I wish you could just come north and have a look at them," exclaimed McAllister. "You can't see from one end to the other, and there is the finest of fine old towers, which would be perfectly habitable, if it were not for the want of windows, and floors, and doors, and other woodwork; and as to the lands, to be sure there is a somewhat considerable preponderance of bog and moor, but oats and potatoes grow finely on the hillsides. Ah, my boy, I know well enough what's what—the value of rich pastures and corn-fields—but there's nothing like the home of one's ancestors—the heathery hills of old Scotland—for all that."

My shipmate spoke with deep feeling, though he had begun in a half-joking vein. Our prisoner joined us, and put a stop to the conversation. He offered to go down for his guitar, and, returning with it on deck, he touched the strings, and sang a light French song with much taste and with a fair voice. We complimented him on his performance.

"Ah, you like singing; I will sing to you night and day, ma foi," he observed. "It is a satisfaction to a man of sentiment to give pleasure to his friends, and I look upon you as my friends in spite of our relative positions. They arise from the circumstances of war. We are friends—true friends—why should we be otherwise?" Then he resumed his guitar and sang again as gaily as before.

We and our consort kept close together, and as the sailing powers of the two vessels were pretty equal, there was little danger of our being separated. Two days after this it fell a dead calm. There we lay, not quite steady, but rolling gently from side to side, moved by the scarcely perceptible and glassy undulations which rose under our keels. The sails went flap-flap against the masts in the most senseless manner, till McAllister ordered them to be furled to prevent the wear and tear they were undergoing. As to the heat, I had never before felt anything like it in the tropics. We could have baked a leg of mutton almost, much more fried a beefsteak, on the capstan-head, while below a dish of apples might easily have been stewed. I remembered Mr Johnson's account of the heat in the West Indies, and began to fear that he had not exaggerated it. It went on growing hotter and hotter, or we felt the heat more and more. The smoke from the chimney of the galley went right up in a thin column, and hung in wreaths over our heads, while that from our cigars, being of a lighter character, ascended above our noses, and finally disappeared in the blue, quivering air. The Espoir lay within hail of a speaking-trumpet, and as we had nothing else to do, we carried on an animated conversation with each other, not very dignified, but highly amusing to all concerned. We had better have held our tongues, I suspect. Any departure from discipline is bad. The Frenchmen who were on deck soon began to imitate our example, and, as they mostly spoke in a patois or jargon which we, of course, could not understand, we did not know what they were saying. I thought I saw a peculiar expression on the faces of some of them, especially when now and then they glanced round and looked at our men. At last, I told McAllister that I fancied the Frenchmen were plotting treason, and that it would be wise to make them hold their tongues. He laughed at the notion, and asked if I supposed a set of frog-eating, grinning Frenchmen would dare to lift a finger against such a crew of bull-dog Englishmen as were our men.

"I cannot say they wouldn't," I answered; "they fought pretty toughly before they gave in."

"Very true, but they had a chance of victory then. Now the chances would be all against them, and they might expect to be pitched overboard if they failed," he replied, turning away as if he did not like the suggestion. He, however, soon after hailed Perigal, to say that he thought we had had enough of that, and then, turning to the French prisoners, told them to hold their tongues. After a time a mist seemed to be rising over the water, but the heat in no way decreased.

"There is something coming," I observed to McAllister. "What do you think?"

"Christmas, or perhaps a breeze," he answered, jokingly; "both to all appearances equally far off. I see one thing, though, which would make me rather unwilling to jump overboard." He pointed to a black triangular object, below which was a long shadowy form that was moving slowly round the ship. "What's that?"

"The boatswain's pet shark, I suppose," said I, laughing. "I should almost expect to see the Doris coming up with a breeze from the nor'ard."

"Just jump on his back, Merry, and see if he doesn't carry you off up to the frigate. It would astonish them not a little to see you coming," said McAllister.

"Thank you, I leave such wonderful performances to wonderful people like Mr Johnson," said I.

Just then the monster, turning up the white of his undersides, made a dart at a black bottle and a wisp of hay which had been thrown overboard in the morning. Down they went into his capacious maw.

"Unpleasant sort of pill. I wonder if the glass will cut him," observed McAllister.

I shuddered, for I could not help thinking what would have been the fate of any human being who might have happened to be overboard. The seamen had found out their enemy, and were talking about him, and watching his proceedings with suspicious glances. They have an idea that when a shark follows a vessel some one is about to die on board, and that he is waiting for the corpse. Sharks have been known to follow vessels for days together, but undoubtedly it is simply that they may feed on the offal thrown overboard. Of course if any seaman happens to die during the time, unless he is lashed up in a hammock with a shot at his feet, they are likely to be the gainers. I have, however, very often seen them following a ship when nobody has died. One example in support of a superstitious idea does more to confirm it in the minds of the ignorant than a hundred examples on the opposite side do to weaken the belief in it.

Not long after this, Perigal hailed McAllister, and, pointing round to the sky, told him that he did not like the look of things. He then signed to us to strike our topmasts, and make everything snug aloft. At the same moment the crew of the Espoir were seen swarming aloft to shorten sail. We had our sails lowered. Hands were now sent aloft to furl them carefully, and to strike upper yards and topmasts. While the hands were thus engaged, as I was standing by the compass to ascertain the direction of the schooner's head, I saw Perigal point to the westward, and make a sign to the men aloft to hurry with their work. I did the same, though we, having less to do, were ahead in our proceedings of our consort. I saw enough to convince me that there was no time to be lost. The blackest of black clouds had gathered with a rapidity scarcely credible, and were rushing on towards us with headlong speed. It was not as is often the case when a storm is brewing; a few light clouds come first like the skirmishers in advance of an army; but the whole body came on in one dense mass, the sea below it foaming, and hissing, and curling with a noise which we could hear even before the wind reached us. A hurricane was coming, and one of no ordinary violence.

"Lie down! lie down, off the yards, all of you," shouted McAllister. The men required no second command. A glance at the quickly changing sky and water told them what was approaching. They slid down the rigging, and in silence awaited the bursting of the tornado. The Frenchmen who were on the deck looked pale and anxious, as if they dreaded the consequences of the hurricane. Bambrick and another good hand went to the helm. A part of the fore-staysail was hoisted, just to pay the vessel's head off. We were not kept long in suspense. With a loud hiss and roar like thunder the hurricane struck us. The schooner heeled over to the gale; I thought she was going over altogether. Many fancied so likewise, and cries of terror escaped from several of the Frenchmen. Lieutenant Preville uttered an expression of annoyance at the pusillanimity of his countrymen.

"They are brave garcons, though," he exclaimed, "and fight like heroes with mortal foes of flesh and blood; but they are not like you bull-dog English, who fear neither mortals nor spirits, and would do battle with the prince of darkness himself, if you met him in the open seas on board any craft he might be able to charter."

What more the lieutenant might have said I do not know, for the howling of the tempest drowned his voice. The foaming seas began to rush up the schooner's deck, and dense masses of spray flew over her. I thought, indeed, that she was gone; but, recovering from the effects of the first blast, she rose a little when her staysail felt the force of the wind. Round went her head: another blast stronger than the first blew the canvas from the bolt-ropes, but the desired effect had been produced, and away she flew under bare poles through the ocean of seething foam; the wind howling and shrieking, and the waters hissing and roaring as we passed over them.

Till that moment, all my attention having been concentrated on our own craft, I had not thought of our consort. I now looked out for her. She was not to be found in the direction where I expected to see her. I cast my eyes round anxiously on every side. The atmosphere was now so dense with spray torn up from the surface of the ocean that the extent of our horizon was much limited. Yet I fancied that we must still be close to our consort. In vain I looked round. I called out to McAllister and told him my fears. Certain it was that the Espoir was nowhere to be seen. I felt very sad. I could not help dreading that the Espoir had been struck as we were, and being less prepared, had capsized and gone over. I thought what had become of poor Grey, my constant firm friend, and honest Perigal, and I pictured to myself how his young wife would mourn his loss, and whether, if I ever got home, I should have to go and tell her how it had happened. I remembered that huge monster of a shark, which had been swimming round the vessels, and I bethought me that he had come for them if not for us. I was not singular, for when the Espoir was missed by others, as was soon the case when they began to lose fear for themselves, I heard Bambrick observe to his companion at the helm, "I thought so; I know'd that brute hadn't come for nothing; they always knows better nor we or the port-admiral himself what's in the wind. He was as sartain sure as cheese is cheese that this here Harry-cane was a coming, long before we'd even a notion that it was a brewing."

The other seaman shook his head with a grave look, as he answered, "I wonder how many of them poor fellows he's got down his hungry maw by this time!"

Such was the style of conversation among our men. What the Frenchmen were saying I do not know. They very soon recovered their spirits and courage, and began laughing and chattering, and dancing about the deck in higher spirits than ever. Perhaps they did not always intend to move, but the now fast rising seas gave the lively little vessel sudden and unexpected jerks, which sent them jumping forward or aft, or from side to side, whenever they happened not to be holding on to anything. Still I did not feel that we were altogether free from danger. The hurricane blew fiercer and fiercer, the sea also got up rapidly, and threw the vessel about in a way which made it very difficult to steer before it. Fortunately our topmasts were housed, or they would have been jerked overboard. I asked McAllister what he proposed doing.

"Doing! Why, of course, scud on till the hurricane has blown itself out," he answered.

"But doesn't the wind sometimes shift in a hurricane, and blow more furiously from another quarter?" I asked.

"Of course it does, and perhaps it will, and we shall be blown back again as far as we have come," he said, taking a look at the compass.

"But suppose it was to blow us back farther than we have come," I observed.

"Merry, just go and bring the chart to the companion stair," was his answer. "It will be blown away if we have it on deck, and I cannot go below just now."

I brought the chart, at which he took a rapid glance. Eastward, as we were now driving, we had plenty of sea-room, and in a wholesome craft like ours, there was nothing to fear; but westward there was the coast of Central America, fringed by rocks and sandbanks, on which many a noble ship has been stranded since Columbus discovered the western world.

"It is to be hoped that the wind will not shift," he answered. "It does not always. Don't let us anticipate evil."

Lieutenant Preville inquired what we were talking about. We told him. He shrugged his shoulders. "Patience; the fortune of war; we seamen must always be subject to such reverses," he remarked.

"The Frenchman takes things easily," observed McAllister. "I wish that I could do so."

I had never before pictured to myself what a West India hurricane really was. At times I thought that the schooner would be blown fairly out of the water. How her masts remained in her was a puzzle, from the way she jerked and rolled, and plunged madly onward, struggling away from the seas which seemed every moment as if they would catch and overwhelm her. Even though thus flying before the gale, we felt as if we should be blown down, had we not kept a good grip of the bulwarks, and those forward had hard work to make their way aft. Suddenly there was a lull. The effect was curious; I can liken it to nothing but when, by shutting a thick door, some loud hubbub of angry voices is no longer heard. The schooner tumbled about just as much as before, or even more, but, instead of being driven onward, she was thrown madly from wave to wave, backwards and forwards; it seemed as if they were playing a game of ball with her. McAllister ordered me to hurry forward and to get some head sail on the schooner. Some of the lower parts of the fore-staysail remained. There was no time to bend a new one. There had been a little wind before; it now fell a dead calm; the smoke of a cigar would have ascended as it had done a few hours before. It proved but treacherous: I positively jumped from the suddenness with which the hurricane again struck the vessel, and, as we had apprehended, from the eastward. Happily the sail this time produced the desired effect, turning her head from the wind, and then away the canvas flew from the bolt-ropes far off upon the gale. Onward we drove as before, still more tossed and tumbled. Had our friend, Colonel Pinchard, been with us, he would have had some reason to complain of the mal de mer. The Audacieuse was a strong, tight vessel, or she would have sprung a dozen leaks, and gone down with all the knocking about she got. She, however, remained as dry as a bottle. Still, as we rushed on, every instant approaching nearer and nearer the rocks and sandbanks of the coast of Central America, our anxiety increased. It was vain to hope that we could heave-to, or in any way stop our mad career. We had done all that could be done, and had now only calmly to await our fate, whatever Providence had designed that should be. It is under such circumstances as this, that the courage and resignation of men are most severely tried. All action has of necessity ceased, the body is at rest, the mind has now full time for thought. Numberless acts of the past life rise up to the recollection, many a deed, and thought, and word, which must bring either pain or fear; principles undergo a test which the wrong and baseless cannot bear. Death looks terribly near. What can stand a man in good stead on an occasion like this? One thing, and one thing alone—sound Bible religion; a firm faith in Him who took our nature upon Him, and died for our sins, and rose again, that He might present us, rising with Him, faultless before the throne of Grace. I say that is the only thing that can make a man feel perfectly happy under such circumstances. I have seen many men stand boldly up to meet expected death, who have no such hope, no such confidence; but their cheeks have been pale, their lips have quivered, and oh, the agony depicted in their eyes. The soul was speaking through them, and told of its secret dread. Let no one be deceived by the outward show, the gallant bearing of a man. Too often, all within is terror, horror unspeakable of the near-approaching unknown future. We had still a long way to drive before we could reach the neighbourhood of the dreaded shoals and reefs. Most of the men probably were ignorant of the risks we were about to encounter. Happily, perhaps, for seamen, they seldom realise danger till it presents itself palpably before them. The Frenchmen, after a time gaining confidence, began to laugh and joke as before. Our men stood calm and grave at their posts. Not that they saw danger or felt fear, but that they were engaged in their duty, and knew that much depended on their steadiness and courage. Night came on; it was far more trying than the day. I felt very tired, but as to turning in, that was out of the question. Hours after hours we flew on, plunging headlong through the darkness, and often, to my excited imagination, strange shrieks and cries seemed to come out of the obscurity. Once as we flew on, as I stood watching black masses of water rising on our quarter and rolling on abeam of us, I fancied that I saw a large ship, her hull with her lofty masts towering up to the skies, close to us. It appeared as if another send of the sea would have driven us aboard her. I thought that I could distinguish people leaning over the bulwarks watching us with longing eyes. There was a gush of waters from her scuppers. I could hear the clang of the pumps; she was already deep in the water, rolling heavily; cries arose from her decks; lower and lower she sank. I watched her with straining eyes. A dark sea rose up between her and the schooner. She was no longer where she had been; the tracery of her masts and rigging appeared for an instant above the water, and then sank for ever. I uttered a cry of regret. McAllister shouted to me, and asked me why I had gone to sleep. I declared that I had been wide awake, and told him what I had seen.

"You've sharper eyes than any one else," he answered. "You must have been asleep; we passed no ship, depend on that."

I insisted on it that we had, and that he had not been looking out as I had; and from that day to this day I am uncertain which was right. I must, however, own that none of the men had seen the sinking ship; but then I hold that neither were they looking out, and it was but a few moments that she was in sight.

"Had all on board seen her we could have rendered her hapless crew no assistance," I thought to myself, "so it does not signify."

On we drove. I never spent a more trying night at sea. I thought the morning never would come or the gale end. The morning, however, did come, as it always does for those who wait for it. We were still driving on furiously, and as the cold grey light of the early dawn broke on the world of waters, the tossing ocean seemed more foam-covered and agitated than even on the previous day. I could see no signs of the cessation of the hurricane, nor did McAllister. Bambrick, however, observed that he thought there was less wind, and that it blew with more steadiness than before. The Frenchmen gave no opinion; indeed, most of them were below asleep. I worked my way forward to look out ahead. I stood by the side of the man stationed there for some minutes.

"The sea is terribly broken away on the starboard bow there," I said.

"Yes, sir, I don't like the looks of it," was the answer, as we continued gazing. We did not speak again for some minutes. It was as I feared though.

"Breakers! breakers ahead!" we both simultaneously shouted. "Breakers! breakers on the starboard bow!"

"Starboard the helm," cried McAllister, in a deep tone, without the slightest sign of agitation. It was doubtful if the vessel would feel the effect of the helm sufficiently to prevent her drifting bodily to leeward. On we drove. Another moment might see the vessel and all on board hurled to destruction. The stoutest vessel ever built could not hold together for two minutes should she strike on rock or sandbank with the awful sea then running dashing over her. I drew my breath short and clenched my teeth as we approached the broken water. The spray flew over our mastheads. Still we did not strike; the dreaded breakers appeared abeam. We had passed the head of a bank or reef. I saw some rocks and sand with a few trees in the distance, probably part of an island, easily discerned under ordinary circumstances above water. The danger for the moment was past, but there was no doubt that we had reached that portion of the Caribbean Sea most studded with dangers. Any moment we might again be among reefs. All we could do was to look out ahead, and pray and hope that we might escape them, as we had done the first. Half an hour or twenty minutes passed; some tall palm trees amid the misty atmosphere appeared bending to the storm on the larboard bow. It was doubtful whether reefs might not run out to the northward, and if so we could scarcely escape striking on them. The helm was, however, put to port, that we might pass as far as we could from the island. McAllister hurried forward, and, taking a steady look, declared his conviction that there was a reef to the northward of the island, and that if we could get a little sail on the schooner, we might run under its lee and ride in safety till the tempest was over. The very thought of the possibility of this renewed our spirits. The wind had certainly lessened. Rousing up the Frenchmen to lend a hand, we got a main-trysail and fore-staysail hoisted. The little craft heeled over, as once more putting the helm to starboard we brought her closer to the wind, in a way which made it seem probable that she would never recover herself; but she did, though; and now we flew on, plunging through the seas which broke on our larboard quarter, towards the island. We drove, of course, to leeward very fast, but still we had hopes that we might round its northern end before we drove past it altogether. Everybody on board stood clustered on deck, watching the island, and ever and anon casting anxious glances at the canvas. It stood now, though an hour before it would not have done so. We approached the island.

"Breakers! breakers on the starboard bow! breakers on the larboard bow!" shouted the men forward. I caught sight of some less broken water ahead. We steered towards it. In another moment our fate would be decided. We flew on; the sea broke terrifically on either hand, but the schooner did not strike. The water became calmer—the island grew more and more abeam. We flattened in the canvas, and, standing towards the land, in another ten minutes found ourselves in a sheltered bay, where, though our mastheads still felt the force of the gale, the wind scarcely reached us on deck. Our anchor was dropped and we rode in safety. I could have fallen on my knees and thanked Heaven for our merciful preservation from so many dangers, but such an act was not in accordance with our usual habits, and I was kept back from fear of what my companions would say. How miserable and contemptible is such a feeling! We are not afraid of displeasing our all-beneficent Creator, or appearing ungrateful for His mercies, and we are afraid of the ridicule of our fellow-men, or even of a sneer from the lips of those we despise the most. I dare say, if the truth were known, that McAllister, Bambrick, and others felt exactly as I did, and yet we were positively afraid of showing our feelings to each other. What a contrast did our present position exhibit to the wild tossing to and fro, and the strife of elements we had just passed through. Here (for the wind dropped rapidly) all was calm and quiet; the mist dissipated, the sun shone forth, and the blue waters of the bay sparkled as they rippled gently on the light yellow sand, strewed with numberless beautifully coloured shells; while numerous tall palm trees and shrubs of lower growth formed a bright fringe of green round the shores of the bay.

As we wanted water, and all agreed that some fresh cocoa-nuts would be very pleasant, I took a boat with four hands, two Englishmen and two Frenchmen, and, accompanied by Lieutenant Preville, pulled on shore. I also took a fowling-piece, in the hopes of getting a shot at some birds. There was no lack of cocoa-nuts, which the hurricane had blown off, on the ground, many of the trees themselves being laid prostrate. We had to hunt about some time before we found a spring. At length we came on one overshadowed by trees, where, by clearing away the ground with our spades, we could fill our casks. I with the two Englishmen was still at the spring, when the French lieutenant and his two countrymen were rolling down a cask to the boat. I followed, and when yet at some distance, I saw the Frenchmen step into the boat and begin shoving off. I ran on, and, having some bullets in my waistcoat pocket, I dropped one down the barrel of my fowling-piece, which I presented at the lieutenant's head, ordering him to come back. He did not at first pay any attention to my threats; I hailed again, and told him that I had loaded with a bullet, and that I did not approve of the joke he was playing. I, at the same time, saw some of the Frenchmen on board the schooner making signs to him. Suddenly he turned round, as if he had only just seen me, and the boat pulled back to the shore.

"I demand a thousand pardons, monsieur," he exclaimed, with the blandest of smiles. "I was only joking, but I am afraid from your countenance, that my vivacity carried me too far." He went on for a considerable time in this style, till my two men came down with their cask, and then, shoving off, we returned on board. I asked McAllister if he had observed anything peculiar in the behaviour of the prisoners while I was on shore.

"I was below for a short time, and when I came on deck I found them clustering on the rigging forward," he answered, carelessly. "I called them down, as it is against orders, and they immediately obeyed."

I told him of the odd conduct of Lieutenant Preville, but he observed that he thought it was only the Frenchman's joke, though it might be wise to keep a stricter look-out on the prisoners than we had lately done. We had little time however, for, pretty well worn out with the fatigues we had endured for the last four-and-twenty hours, we were glad to take the opportunity of being in a snug harbour to turn in and go to sleep. Before doing so, however, I told Bambrick, who had charge of the deck, to direct the sentry placed over the prisoners to keep his weather eye open, lest they should play us any trick. Tops are said to sleep soundly; I know from experience that midshipmen do. From the moment I put my head on the pillow it seemed but a moment that I was roused up to keep the morning watch. I found a light breeze blowing from the southward. It would not do to lose this opportunity of getting clear out to sea again; so I sent down to McAllister, who soon joined me, and agreed that I was right. The anchor was weighed, and under easy sail we ran out through the passage by which we had entered this harbour of refuge. As I looked on the rocks on either side, now showing their dark heads above water, it seemed wonderful how, with so terrific a hurricane blowing, we had safely entered. How often thus through life are we steered safely by a merciful Providence, amidst hosts of dangers which we do not at the time see, and for protection against which we are but too often most miserably unthankful. We were soon clear of the island, but it was necessary to keep a very bright look-out to avoid running on the reefs which we had before escaped. Several times we saw rocks on either hand, and breakers still dashing wildly up, showing that reefs or banks were there, and more and more astonished were we that we had passed between them in safety. Lieutenant Preville shrugged his shoulders.

"It would need a good pilot to carry a vessel in safety between those reefs as we came yesterday," he observed. "But, after all, the best pilot is the Goddess Chance, who guided us."

"Chance, monsieur! Chance!" exclaimed McAllister, with a vehemence in which he seldom indulged. "I do not believe that there is such a thing as chance, much less a goddess. I am not going to discuss the subject, only don't talk to me of chance."

The Frenchman again shrugged his shoulders, hoped that he had not given offence, and walked away, humming a tune. He continued, however, as polite and obliging as at first. He declared that we wanted a good dinner after our labours, and insisted on cooking it. He outshone himself, and with some shell-fish we had picked up, and two birds I had shot, produced some wonderfully delicious dishes. The wind held fair, but it was light, and it required us constantly to be on the look-out to thread our way among the dangers which surrounded us. Our anxiety, too, was very great for the fate of our consort. She was nowhere to be seen, and our fears were increased that she had gone down when first struck by the hurricane. We did not breathe freely till we were well out at sea, clear of all reefs and shoals. Lieutenant Preville especially complimented us on the seamanship we had displayed, and assured us that it was a great satisfaction to him to have been our shipmate through so trying an event. McAllister and I now agreed that if we did not fall in with the Espoir it was undoubtedly our duty to return to Jamaica. We accordingly cruised about for two days, and then shaped a course for that island. The next night it was my middle watch on deck. It had struck seven bells, and I was contemplating the satisfaction I should feel in turning in and going to sleep, when I suddenly found the French lieutenant walking by my side. This was against rule, as none of the prisoners were allowed to come on deck at night without the permission of the officer of the watch. He apologised, saying that he was oppressed with the heat, and knew that I would allow him to come. In a little time he professed to see a light ahead, and induced me to walk forward to look at it. Just as I was abreast of the foremast I found my arms seized, a gag thrust into my mouth, and a handkerchief bound over my eyes, so that I could neither struggle, cry out, nor see what was going forward. The horrible conviction came on me that the Frenchmen were attempting to recapture the vessel. I hoped that McAllister might be awake, as he was so soon to relieve me. The suspense, however, was terrible. I found myself secured to the bulwarks, and left to my cogitations. I augured the worst, because there was no cry; no shots were fired. There I sat, it seemed an age, listening for some sounds. I was almost sure that the Frenchmen had mastered all our people on deck, even Ned Bambrick. At length I heard one of the French seamen speaking; he was making a report to Lieutenant Preville. A loud cheer was the response, "Vive l'Empereur! vive la France!" I knew full well by this, that they were in entire possession of the vessel. My heart sank within me. It was bad enough to lose our prize; it would be worse to be thrown overboard, or to have our throats cut. I did not, however, think that the Frenchmen would do that. They would take very good care, though, that we did not regain the vessel. Such being the case, I really felt almost indifferent as to what became of us. After all the civility we had shown Lieutenant Preville, I thought that he might as well have released me from my uncomfortable position, with my arms lashed tightly behind me, and a gag in my mouth. I heard some orders issued in French, and the blocks rattling, and yards creaking as if the sails were being trimmed, and the schooner's course altered. Hour after hour passed by; at last I fell asleep with a crick in my neck, and the sound of a Frenchman's voice in my ear.

"Oh, pauvre miserable!" said the voice; "why we forgot him."

Such was the fact, not very complimentary to my importance. I had been overlooked. The speaker took the handkerchief off my eyes. It was daylight, and the schooner was running under all sail before a fair breeze. Lieutenant Preville soon appeared, and, telling the men to cast me loose, invited me, in a tone of irony, I fancied, to join my brother officer at breakfast with him.

Poor McAllister looked dreadfully cast down. We took our seats in silence. Our host, who had yesterday been our guest, was in high spirits.

"It is the fortune of war, you well know, Monsieur Merry," he observed with a provoking smile. "Brave garcons like you know how to bear such reverses with equanimity. I can feel for you, though, believe me. Monsieur McAllister, I drink to your health, though I fear that you will not be a lieutenant as soon as you expected. Here, take some of this claret; it will revive your spirits."

My messmate seized the decanter of wine, which it is the custom of the French to have on the table at breakfast, and drank off a large tumbler. He drew a long breath after he had done so.

"You have the advantage of us this time undoubtedly, Monsieur Preville," he exclaimed bitterly; "but a day will come when we shall meet together on equal terms, and then, I hope, as brave men we shall fight it out to the death."

"With pleasure, assuredly," answered the Frenchman, with the politest of bows and smiles. "But in the mean time you must endeavour to restrain your impetuosity. At present it would be impossible to give you the satisfaction you require."

Poor McAllister ground his teeth; the words were taunting, but the expression of the Frenchman's countenance was more so. He would have sprung up and fought him then and there, with carving knives or any weapons at hand; but he restrained himself for a good reason. The lieutenant had a brace of loaded pistols by his side on the table, and two seamen stood on either side of us with loaded muskets, ready to blow out our brains, had we exhibited any signs of insubordination. McAllister went on eating his breakfast in silence.

The lieutenant pointed to the men and to his pistols.

"These are to do you honour," he observed. "They are the greatest compliment we can pay to your bravery. Unless you were handcuffed, I should not think myself safe a moment."

"We did not treat you so," I remarked.

"No, my friend," he said, smiling; "but you are prisoners, and I have regained command of my schooner."

I had not a word to say, but I resolved to profit by the lesson in my future career.

We were not allowed to communicate with any of our men, who were kept under strict watch forward, and only permitted to come on deck one at a time, in charge of a sentry. McAllister and I even had no opportunity of communicating with each other. When we got on deck, an armed man walked up and down by our side, and when we approached the compass, we were ordered away, so that we could not tell what course we were steering, except by guessing from the position of the sun.

Of course, with all the care the Frenchmen took, we had very little hopes of being able to retake the schooner. Neither could we tell what was to be done with us, nor did Lieutenant Preville think fit to inform us. After all our anticipations of prize-money and pleasure on shore, to have the inside of a French prison alone in view was very galling to our feelings. McAllister could do nothing but mourn his hard fate, and mutter threatenings against France and Frenchmen should he ever regain his liberty. Our only hope was that one of our own cruisers might fall in with the Audacieuse, and that we might thus be set at liberty. Consequently, whenever we were on deck we scanned the horizon anxiously, resolved, if we caught sight of a sail, not to give the Frenchmen too early a notice of the fact. At last one day we lay becalmed, while a thick mist had settled down over the ocean. I began to fear that we were going to have another hurricane. The Frenchmen did not think so, but took things very easily. The look-out came down from aloft, and, except the man who was placed as sentry over us, all hands employed themselves in mending their clothes and in other similar occupations. The man at the helm stood leaning on the tiller, lazily watching his companions. Suddenly to the westward I saw the mist lift, and, directly under the canopy thus formed, I distinctly saw a large ship standing down under all sail towards us. I was afraid by word or sign to point her out to McAllister, and dreaded lest the expression of my countenance might draw the attention of any of the crew towards her. She could not fail to pass close to us if she continued on the course she was steering. I only hoped that the mist would lift again, in time to show the Audacieuse to those on board her. The mist seemed, much to my satisfaction, to be settling down again, when at that instant Lieutenant Preville came on deck. His quick eye instantly detected the stranger. Having uttered some forcible expletives as to his opinion of his crew's conduct in not keeping a better look-out, he ordered the sails to be trimmed, and every stitch of canvas the schooner could carry to be set in readiness for the coming breeze, McAllister's and my eagerness may be easily conceived. We both had an idea that the ship was English, and that she would bring up the breeze. What was our disappointment, then, when we saw the schooner's sails rilling out. Away she glided before the breeze. The mist soon afterwards entirely cleared away, and exhibited the stranger about two miles off. By her build and the cut of her sails she was English. When she saw us, all sail was made on board her; but the Audacieuse had a fast pair of heels, and it was soon evident that she was leaving her pursuer far astern. Our hopes sank and sank, and by nightfall we had run her out of sight. When morning returned the stranger was nowhere to be seen.

Four days thus passed by. They were far from agreeable ones. Early on the sixth we found a substantial breakfast on the table, and after we had partaken of it with a suspicion that it was to be our last on board, we were ordered on deck. Here we found the schooner hove-to, and all our people assembled, while alongside lay one of the schooner's boats, with oars and masts and sails, a water cask, and some hampers and cases of provisions. There was a tarpaulin, and the boat was fitted in other respects, as far as she could be, to perform a long voyage.

"There, my friends," observed the lieutenant; "I wish to part with you on friendly terms. I do not desire to keep you as prisoners, as I am bound on a long cruise, and I hope that you may regain your own ship in safety. I will give you your course for Jamaica, which you may reach in a week; farewell."

We had not a word to say against this arrangement, so, thanking the Frenchman for his courtesy, we followed our men, who had before been ordered into the boat. Even McAllister could not help putting out his hand and exclaiming, "You are brave, as are most Frenchmen, but you are honest and kind-hearted, and that is more than I, for one, will say of some of your countrymen."

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders and laughed as he shook our hands. He was in high good spirits, as well he might be. We stepped into the boat, and he waved his hand; we shoved off, and, bowing as politely as we could force ourselves to do, we hoisted our sails and shaped a course for Jamaica. The Audacieuse filled, and then, hauling her wind, stood away to the eastward.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

It was satisfactory to be once more at liberty, but a voyage in an open boat across the Caribbean Sea, when it was possible that we might have to encounter another hurricane, was not altogether an exploit we should have undertaken if we had had our choice. However, as we had plenty of provisions and enough water, we had no reason to complain. We found, indeed, on looking over our stores to select some food for our dinner, that there were a dozen of claret and six bottles of brandy.

"Really, that fellow Preville is a trump," I exclaimed, as I poured out a glass of the former, and handed it to McAllister. "We'll drink his health, for he deserves it. Come, rouse up, my boy. It's good liquor; you'll not deny that."

"I'll drink his health and long life to him, that we may have a better chance of meeting together in mortal combat," answered my messmate, gloomily. "To have our hard-won prize stolen out of our hands in this way—it's more than I can bear. And to have to make our appearance on board the frigate without our vessel, and to report the loss of poor Perigal and the others, is even worse."

I did my best to rouse up McAllister, and to make him see matters in a more cheerful light, but it was no easy matter. He was ever dwelling on the fact that the prize had been placed under his charge, and that he had lost her. I was sometimes almost afraid that, if not watched at night, he would be jumping overboard, so gloomy did he become. Bambrick entertained the same idea also, I suspected, and I was glad to see that he watched him narrowly. We also did our best to amuse him, and I got the men to sing songs and spin yarns from morning till night. Only one story told by Ned Bambrick seemed to afford him much amusement.

"You must know, sir, when I was paid off during the last peace, I joined a South Sea whaler. You've heard tell of Botany Bay. Well, that's nowhere, or that's to say, it is not the place where they send prisoners. But there's a fine harbour near it, which they call Port Jackson, and up it there's a town which they call the Camp, but which has now got the name of Sydney. It's what they call a colony, that's to say, a good number of people of all sorts, besides convicts, goes out there, and they've a governor set over them, who rules the land just like any king. He's a right, real sort of a governor, to my mind, for he makes the laws and sees that they are obeyed, too. He won't stand no nonsense, and though he doesn't wear a wig and gown, like the judges at home, he sits in a court, and tries all them who doesn't do what they ought. He hears both parties, and, when they've done, he sings out, 'Haul in the slack of your jaw-tackle, and belay all that,' and then he goes for to say what each party must do, and he won't hear a word more from either of them. Well, as I was a saying, I joined a South Sea whaler. I can't say as how I had a pleasant time aboard, but it was better than others had. Our captain was one of them chaps as always does what they choose, and he pretty often chose to do what was very bad. He had a quarrel with the doctor of the ship, who was a very decent, well-behaved young man, and not wanting in spirit. Their disputes went on from bad to worse, so what does he do one day, but call four or five hands aft, fellows always ready to do any dirty work for a glass of grog, and getting hold of the poor doctor, clap him into one of the hen-coops. 'Now,' says he, 'you'll stay there till you beg my pardon.' 'I'll never beg your pardon,' says the doctor. 'I'll see if I can't make you,' says the captain. Well, would you believe it? the captain kept the poor doctor in there, day after day, and always took his meals to him himself, cut up into little bits so that he could eat them with a spoon. When he put in the plate, he always used to sing out, 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' just as he would have done if he was feeding the fowls. It aggravated the poor doctor, but he couldn't help himself. No one dared to speak to the captain, who always walked about with a brace of pistols in his belt, and swore he'd shoot any one who interfered with him. You may be sure I and others felt for the doctor when the savage used to go to him, with a grin on his face, and sing out, 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' The doctor would have been starved if he hadn't taken the food when the captain brought it him, with his 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!'

"At last one day, the doctor wouldn't stand it any longer; so says he, 'If you don't let me out of this, I'll make you sing out "Coopity! coopity!" from the other side of your mouth; so look out.' The captain laughed at him, and went on as before. However, we had to put into Port Jackson to refit, and it came to the ears of the governor that our skipper had a man shut up in a hen-coop; so he sent some soldiers aboard, and had the doctor taken out and brought ashore. Then there was a regular trial, and the governor heard what the doctor had to say, and the skipper and we had to say, and then he says, 'I decide that you, Captain Crowfoot, shall pay Dr McGrath two hundred golden guineas before you leave this court.' The captain, with many wry faces, began to make all sorts of excuses, but the governor wouldn't listen to one of them, and Captain Crowfoot had to get a merchant to hand him out two bags of guineas. 'Count them, captain, count them,' says the governor; and as the skipper counted them out on the table, the doctor stood by with another bag, and, as he swept them in with his hand, he kept singing out 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' Really it was pleasant to hear the doctor go on with his 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' Everybody in the court laughed, and, I believe you, the skipper was glad enough to get away when he had counted out all his money, and there was a regular cheer of 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' as he rushed out of the court." I had not seen McAllister laugh since we had lost the prize. He now gave way to a hearty peal, exclaiming, "Ha! ha! ha! I'll make the French lieutenant sing out 'Coopity! coopity! coopity!' before the world is many years older."

I need not describe all that occurred in the boat. We made fair way while the wind continued fair, and the weather favourable, but Jamaica still seemed a long distance off. It is a large island however, so that there was not much chance of our missing it. Four days had passed since we left the Audacieuse, when about midnight the wind suddenly shifted to the northward, and, what was worse, it came on to blow very hard. We closely reefed our sail, and hove-to, but the seas constantly broke over us, and we were obliged to keep two hands baling, or we should have been swamped. It was bad enough as it was, but it might come on worse, and then, would the boat swim? That was a question. That was a dreary night. The rain came down too—as it knows well how to do in the tropics. We had no want of water, but we unwisely neglected to fill our casks. Expecting to make a quick run, we had not stinted ourselves in the use of water. Of course the boat all this time was drifting to leeward, and we were losing all the distance we had made good during the last day or so; if the gale continued we should lose still more. At last daylight came, but the wind blew as hard as ever—half a gale at all events. Two whole days more it blew. At last it ceased, but it left us a hundred miles nearly further from our destination than when it commenced. This was bad enough, but though there was little of it remaining, that little was in our teeth. We however hauled our wind, and tried to beat up. When the sea went down we got the oars out, and, lowering the sails, pulled head to wind. It was greatly trying to the men, to know that after toiling away for hours, the entire distance gained might be lost in a quarter of the time. Still, as British seamen always do, they persevered. McAllister and I took our turn at the oars with the rest. For several days we laboured thus. The prospect of a quick run to Jamaica was over. Our provisions were running short—our water was almost expended. Hunger and thirst began to stare us in the face—things apt not only to stare people out of countenance, but out of their good looks. We at once went on short allowance, which grew shorter and shorter. As we gazed on each other's faces, we saw how haggard our shipmates had become, each person scarcely aware of his own emaciated appearance. At last we had not a drop of water remaining. Jamaica might still be a week's sail off, under favourable circumstances. The thirst we now endured was far worse than hunger, in that climate, with a hot sun burning down on our heads all day. Our throats got hotter and more parched every hour; we drew in our belts, and that silenced the cravings of hunger for a time, and we had some few bits of biscuit, and ham, and chocolate, but nothing we could do could allay our thirst. We dipped our faces in water, and kept applying our wet handkerchiefs to our mouths and eyes. We got most relief from breathing through our wet handkerchiefs; but it was only transient; the fever within burned as fiercely as ever. We had to work at the oars, when we could not keep our handkerchiefs wet. McAllister, like a brave fellow as he was, aroused himself, and endeavoured to encourage us to persevere. He especially warned the men against drinking salt water, telling them that it would be downright suicide, and that they might as well jump overboard and be drowned at once. We were certainly making way, and every hour lessening our distance to Jamaica. Again our hopes were raised. We had a few scraps of food to support life for two days more; but it was the water we wanted. I felt that I could not hold out another twenty-four hours. I must have water or die. The wind, however, came fair; we made sail, and ran merrily over the water—at least the boat did. Our feelings were heavy enough. Still I must say that we did our best to keep up each other's courage. Again the wind fell. It shifted. We might be driven back, and lose all the way we had gained. Dark clouds gathered—the feeling of the air changed. "Get the sail spread out flat, and the buckets, and cask, and mugs ready, boys," cried McAllister, "Open your mouths."

Scarcely had he spoken, when down came the rain. Oh, how delicious were the cool streams which flowed down our parched throats, and washed the salt from our faces. As the sail caught it, we let it run off into the receptacles we had prepared. Mugful after mugful we drained. We filled our cask and buckets. The rain ceased just as we had done so, and then it fell a dead calm. But we all felt refreshed and invigorated. New life seemed put into us, and the dry morsels of biscuit and ham, which we before could not swallow, were eaten with a relish. This deliverance from immediate death gave us hope; but still we might have again to encounter all the difficulties we had before gone through, before reaching land. Could we possibly survive them? I had often read of similar adventures and sufferings, and had been so much interested and amused, that I had felt considerably obliged to those who had gone through them, and really felt that I should like to have been with them; but I found the reality very different indeed. The terrible reality was presented to me with the gilding off—the romance vanished. My great wish was to escape from my present position. I have no doubt that all my companions felt with me.

The oars were again got out, and slowly we pulled to the northward. It was soon evident, however, that our strength was totally unequal to the task. One after the other the oars dropped from the men's feeble grasp. It was terrible to see strong men thus reduced to weakness. The calm continued. Even I began to despair. A dizziness came over me. I was nearly sinking to the bottom of the boat, but I resisted the impulse by a strong effort. "I'll not give in while life and sense remain." I fancied that I felt a puff of air on my cheek. I wetted my finger, and held it up. There was no doubt about it. A breeze was coming from the southward. I stood up as well as I was able, and looked astern for the expected blue line in the horizon. My heart leaped within me when my eye fell on the white sails of a vessel coming fast up with us. I shouted out the joyous news. My companions lifted up their heads, some scarcely understanding what I said. McAllister, who had been asleep, started up, and, with his hand over his eyes, gazed anxiously at the stranger. Bambrick, with a strength which surprised me, leaped up on the thwart, holding on by the mast, and, after looking for some time, he exclaimed, "She's the Espoir, as sure as my name is Ned Bambrick."

"The Espoir went down in the hurricane, and this craft is only some phantom come to delude and mock us," muttered McAllister, gloomily.

"Nonsense! you don't believe in such stuff," I exclaimed. "If yonder craft is the Espoir, it's plain the Espoir did not go down in the hurricane; and if the Espoir did go down in the hurricane, it is equally plain that the vessel in sight is not she."

"No, no, yonder craft is but a mocking phantom. I'm destined never to see my bonnie home and fair Scotland again," he answered, in a low voice, speaking more to himself than to me.

There was no use in then contradicting him. Half an hour or less would, I hoped, show that the stranger astern was a real palpable vessel, with human beings on board who would relieve our distress, and no phantom craft. Poor McAllister sank down in the stern-sheets again through weakness, but continued to gaze at the stranger, as we all did, with our eyeballs almost starting, in our eagerness, from their sockets.

The stranger proved to be a schooner; and, as she approached, she appeared to be more and more like the Espoir. There was at length no doubt about it, but McAllister still shook his head, muttering "A phantom—a phantom—but very like the craft—there's na doubt about that." I do not know what he might have thought when the schooner shortened sail, and glided up slowly alongside our boat. There were Perigal, and Grey, and Macquoid, and Bobus, and others, looking at us over the bulwarks. They must have known us by our uniforms to be English, but they had no idea we were their own shipmates. I guessed this by hearing Macquoid say to Bobus—

"Who can they be? Some poor fellows whose vessel must have gone down in the hurricane."

"Hand them up carefully, now," said Perigal to the men who descended into the boat.

We were all soon lifted on deck, for we were utterly unable to help ourselves, and we had positively to say who we were before we were recognised.

The foremost to rush forward and welcome me was Toby Bluff; and, forgetful of all the proprieties of the quarter-deck, he was very nearly throwing his arms round me and giving me a hearty hug, so overcome was he with joy at having the young squire restored to him.

"Oh! Measter Merry, they will be main glad at the Hall when they learns that after all you didn't go down in that mighty terrible hurricane we had t'other day," he exclaimed. "I'd never have gone back to see them— that I wouldn't—I could have never faced them without the young measter!"

Warm and sincere, indeed, were the congratulations of all our friends. Macquoid at once took charge of us—ordered us all into our hammocks, and would not allow us to swallow more than the most moderate quantity of food, nor to listen nor talk. Owing to his judicious management, we all speedily got round, with the exception of McAllister, who had been the last to give in. His spirit and moral courage had supported him, till at length his physical powers yielded to his sufferings.

We carried on the breeze till we sighted Jamaica. Of course Perigal was very much vexed at hearing of the loss of the prize, but he did not blame McAllister, though, as he observed, it would have been wiser had we not placed so much confidence in our agreeable and plausible prisoner. The Espoir had lost sight of us in the hurricane from the first, and apprehensions for our safety had till now been entertained, and so our friends looked upon us as happily restored to them from the dead, and were not inclined to find undue fault with us. We found that they had been placed in even greater danger than we had, and had suffered more damage, but finally they were enabled to take shelter under an island more to the south than the one we gained. Here they remained for some time to refit, and thus were brought to our rescue just in time to preserve us from destruction. We were all tolerably recovered and presentable by the time we entered Port Royal harbour. Here we found the frigate almost ready for sea, and, to our satisfaction, Spellman with our first prize had arrived safely. Among those who most cordially welcomed me was Mr Johnson, the boatswain.

"We felt that hurricane even here, Mr Merry; and, thinking you might feel it too, I was anything but happy about you," he observed, shaking me by the hand. "I was once out in just such another—only it blew a precious deal harder. Some of our hands had their pigtails carried away, and two or three fellows who kept their mouths open had their teeth blown down their throats. It was the gale when the Thunderer and so many others of His Majesty's ships went down. You've heard of it, I dare say?"

I told him that I had read about it in a naval history we had on board, but that the account of the pigtails and teeth was not given.

"No, I dare say not; historians seldom enter as they ought into particulars," he answered, laughing.

Grey received an equally friendly welcome from Mr Johnson, with whom he was as great a favourite as I was. He made us give him an account of all our adventures, and amused himself with quizzing me, without ceasing, at having been so tricked by the French lieutenant. I believed, and do to this day, that Preville was civil and light-hearted from nature, and that it was only when he found us off guard that the idea of seizing the vessel occurred to him.

McAllister did not get off as easily as I did. Wherever he went he was quizzed for having been tricked by the Frenchman and losing his prize. He unfortunately could not stand quizzing, and, taking what was said too seriously, he became at times quite sulky and morose.

As the Doris had no hands to spare, the tender was laid up, and once more the frigate put to sea in search of the enemies of our country. We knew that several of their frigates were at sea, and we hoped to fall in with one of them. If we missed them, we were not likely to object to pick up a few rich merchantmen.

Soon after I rejoined, I was invited to the gun-room to give an account of my adventures on board the Audacieuse. Thinking he was going to be quizzed McAllister would not say a word on the subject. I was not so particular, and amused the officers very much with an account of the way in which the polite lieutenant used to dress our dinners for us, and used to sing and play for our amusement. Mr Fitzgerald seemed highly entertained.

"He must be a broth of a boy, indeed! If we ever catch him, we'll make him dress our dinners," he exclaimed, laughing.

He was himself stranger than ever, and, with his curious performances, I used to wonder how he managed not to get into more scrapes than he did. Our captain was much of the same opinion, for I heard him remark that he really was glad to get to sea, for fear Mr Fitzgerald should do something to bring himself into difficulty on shore. The words were reported to Mr Fitzgerald, who remarked—

"Och! where there's a will there's a way. We'll see what we can do, even out here on the big salt sea!"

Not long after this, during a light breeze, we chased a vessel to the southward. We came up with her hand over hand. When, however, we were about five miles off, it fell a dead calm. What she was we could not ascertain, though she did not look like an armed vessel. It was necessary to overhaul her, so Mr Fitzgerald volunteered to take the gig and six hands to board her, and Grey and I got leave to accompany him. We had a hot pull, the sun coming down full on our heads, and as we had come away without any water, the men were anxious to get on board the stranger, that they might quench their thirst. She was rigged as a barque, and she proved as we guessed; she was a Yankee, and a neutral. Though undoubtedly laden with stores for our enemies, we could not touch her. Her skipper was very civil, and invited us into the cabin, where a fine display of decanters and tumblers gave promise of good cheer, in which we were not disappointed. Mr Fitzgerald was soon deep in the mysteries of cocktail and similar mixtures. He seemed to enjoy them amazingly, for he quaffed tumbler after tumbler, till I began to fear that he was getting rather too deep into the subject. Grey and I took our share, but we both of us were from inclination very temperate. Independent of other considerations, I have always held that a splitting headache, and the risk of getting into trouble, was a high price to pay for the pleasure of tickling one's palate, or artificially raising one's spirits for a short time. The men were hospitably entertained forward, one or two of them finding old messmates; indeed American vessels at that period were manned principally with English seamen. We remained on board altogether much longer than we ought to have done, but at last Mr Fitzgerald, looking at his watch, jumped up, exclaiming that he must be off. We thanked the skipper for his civility, and, not without difficulty, getting the men into the boat, away we pulled towards the frigate. The men were all high in praise of the Yankees, and I have no doubt that they were all put up to run from the ship at the first American port at which they might touch.

The calm still continued, and from the lazy way in which the men pulled, it was clear that they were in no hurry to get on board. Grey and I, of course, were not; indeed Mr Fitzgerald, who was in great spirits, kept us highly amused by his stories, so full of racy humour. Our movements were, however, considerably expedited by the report of a gun from the frigate, as a signal for us immediately to return. The men now bent to their oars, and gave way in earnest. We had not pulled far, however, when another puff of smoke was seen to burst forth from the frigate's side, followed by the report of the gun, which came booming over the smooth ocean.

"Och! the skipper's in a mighty hurry," muttered the lieutenant to himself. "We are making all the haste flesh and blood is capable of, with the sun boiling up our marrow at this rate."

"Give way, lads, give way," he shouted aloud. "The captain is in a hurry, for there's something in the wind, depend on that."

We were, I suspect, so completely in a position under the sun, as observed from the frigate, that we could not be seen. Presently the report of another gun struck our ears. On this Mr Fitzgerald seemed to lose all patience.

"Hand me an oar and a boat-hook," he exclaimed, "and some rope-yarn."

What was our surprise to see him strip off his trousers, and make the waistband fast to the boat-hook, which he secured for a yard across the blade of an oar stepped upright as a mast. Having secured some pieces of rope-yarn to the legs of his unmentionables, he stood up and began blowing away with might and main into the upper portions, stopping every now and then to gain breath, and to shout, "Give way, lads, with a will—give way like troopers—give way, ye hardy sons of Neptune, or of sea-cooks, if you prefer the appellation. Give way like Tritons. We are doing all that men can do. Who dare say we can do more? But we must not stop to talk." Then, once more filling out his cheeks, he began to blow and puff with might and main as before.

Grey and I, though not a little shocked, were convulsed with laughter; so of course were the men, whose countenances, as they bent to their oars, were wreathed in the broadest of broad grins, while shouts of scarce suppressed laughter burst ever and anon from their throats.

"Faith, the captain can't say it's my fault if we don't get aboard in time. I've done all that any officer in His Majesty's service could do to expedite matters, at all events," he observed at length, stopping to draw breath.

"And more than most officers would dream of doing, Mr Fitzgerald," I answered, quietly, really fearing that he had gone mad.

"Och, yes, I was always celebrated for my zeal," he answered. "There's nothing like zeal, Mr Merry. When my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty think fit to promote one of their own nephews over the heads of any lot of us poor fellows who don't happen to have any interest in high quarters, it's always on account of zeal—they are such very zealous and promising young men. They don't say what they promise. I could never learn that. I once posed the First Lord by simply asking the question. I went up just to ask for my promotion—for there's nothing like asking, you know, youngsters. The First Lord received me with wonderful civility. He took me for another Fitzgerald, and I was fool enough to tell him which I really was, or I believe he would have handed me out my commission and appointment to a fine brig I had in my eye, there and then. I saw by his change of countenance that I had made a mistake, and, as I was in for it, I determined not to be abashed. With the blandest of smiles he remarked, 'Undoubtedly, Mr Fitzgerald, I will keep you in sight, but I have on my list so many zealous and promising young officers, that I fear you will have some time to wait.' His cold eye told me he'd do nothing for me, so says I, 'My lord, I should just like to have an example of this zeal, that I may learn to imitate it; but as to promises, faith, my lord, I should like to see any man who can beat me at making them.' I put on a face as I spoke, and he couldn't help laughing, but he told me, when I made my bow, that I might be sure he wouldn't forget me. Whether he has or has not, I can't say; but here am I, a descendant of Brian Boroo, and I don't know how many kings and queens of ould Ireland besides, nothing but a humble lieutenant, standing with my breeches off, and endeavouring to fill this epitome of a boat's sail with all the wind in my mortal body. I must stop talking, though, youngsters; it's setting you a bad example," and he began to puff away again.

We were now drawing so near the frigate that I felt sure, if any glasses were turned towards us, his extraordinary condition could be seen. I was anxious to prevent his getting into disgrace, so I asked—

"Wouldn't it be better, sir, if you were to put on your breeches, and let the men pull up alongside in proper style?"

"What, youngster, and lose this magnificent opportunity of exhibiting my zeal?" he exclaimed, indignantly. "I shall request the captain to write an official letter to the Admiralty, that a proper record may be made of it."

"But Grey and I will bear witness to the truth of your statement, if you think fit, to-morrow, to make a report of the proceeding," I observed. "You must allow, sir, that officers do not generally come alongside a ship with their breeches off, though of course it is very laudable to make use of them as a boat's sail, or in any other way, for the good of the service; but, if you have any enemies, a wrong construction may be put on the matter."

He did not appear to be listening to what I was saying, but continued puffing out his cheeks and blowing as before. As I was steering, I told Grey to look through the telescope we had with us at the ship.

"I see several glasses turned this way," he answered, "and there are numbers of men in the rigging."

I made no remark, but Mr Fitzgerald soon afterwards lowered the oar, and, without saying anything, quietly put on his breeches. We were soon alongside; the boat was hoisted in, and a light breeze having sprung up, which had long been seen coming, all sail was made in chase of a vessel to the eastward.

Mr Fitzgerald then made his report.

"You seemed to be carrying some sail," observed the captain. "You had but little wind, though, to make it of use."

"There was all the wind I could make," blurted out the lieutenant, who had now got sober, and was as much ashamed of himself as it was in his nature to be. "However, Captain Collyer, you know my zeal for the service, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for its good."

"Even to make use of your breeches as a sail, and compelling your mouth to do duty as Molus," said the captain, gravely. "However, Mr Fitzgerald, though I never like making mountains of molehills, don't let your zeal, or your love of a joke, carry you so far again. Discipline would quickly vanish if the officers were to forget their dignity, as you did just now. No officer should ever appear in public without his breeches."

"I'll make a note of that, Captain Collyer, and take care that it never again occurs," answered Mr Fitzgerald, with inimitable gravity, but with an expression on his comical features which made our good-natured skipper almost burst into a fit of laughter.

Two or three nights after this, while it was Mr Fitzgerald's watch, in which I was placed, it being very dark, the frigate, without any warning, was struck by a heavy squall, which threw her in an instant on her beam ends. I thought that she was going down. There was a loud crash—the fore-topmast had gone over the side. Lightning flashed from the sky; the thunder roared. A loud clap was heard overhead—the main-topsail had split, and, rent in fragments, was carried out of the bolt-ropes, lashing itself in fury round the yard. All seemed confusion. Everybody on the first crash had rushed on deck, mostly in very scanty costume. The captain had slipped on his coat, which, with his shirt and slippers, formed his costume. There he stood, his shirt tails fluttering in the breeze, while with his deep-toned voice he was bringing order out of seeming chaos. When the main-topsail went the frigate righted. We had work enough to do to clear the wreck of the fore-topmast and all its hamper, and it was broad daylight before the captain could leave the deck. When the ship was put a little to rights, and those officers who had appeared in limited costume had gone below to don the usual amount of dress, Mr Fitzgerald walked up to Mr Bryan, the first-lieutenant, and said—

"I wish, Bryan, that you would ascertain what are and what are not the regulations of this ship. Two days ago the captain told me that it was against his express orders that any officers should appear on the quarter-deck without their breeches, and now he appears himself without his, and so do Haisleden and the master, and some other fellows besides."

"There are some occasions when it does not do to stick at trifles," answered Mr Bryan, who found it very necessary to humour his eccentric brother officer.

"Well, at all events, the captain cannot find fault with me after that," said the second lieutenant; "I am always saying the same—I never stick at trifles."

"No, indeed you do not; but sometimes it is just as well to look at them, and ascertain if they are trifles," observed Mr Bryan.

It was found that the frigate had received so much damage that it was necessary to put back to Port Royal. It was a matter of very little consequence to us midshipmen. We were chiefly interested because we knew that we should get a supply of fresh meat and vegetables, which we preferred to the salt pork and weevilly biscuits served out to the navy in those days, and for very many days later; indeed, where is the naval officer, under the rank of a commander, or I may say a lieutenant, who does not tap every bit of biscuit on the table before he puts it into his mouth? He taps mechanically now, but he learned the habit when it was necessary to knock out the weevils.

We soon had the ship as much to rights as circumstances would allow. In the evening Grey and I went below, and found the boatswain seated on a stool in his cabin, with his legs stretched out at full length before him.

"Ah, young gentlemen, I know what you've come for," he exclaimed when he saw us. "You're curious to hear some more of my yarns. It's natural, and I'll not baulk you. There's one thing you may depend on, it will be a long time before I shall spin them all out. You needn't tell me where I left off. I was telling you about my pet shark and the dreadful event connected with it. It's a warning to people not to have pet sharks, as you'll say when you hear more. But come in, young gentlemen, and make yourselves comfortable. Ah, Mr Gogles, I'm glad to see you here; you've not heard any of my veracious narrative, but now you shall hear something to astonish you, I guess."

Gogles was a young midshipman, the son of a planter at Jamaica, who had joined us when we were last there. His countenance exhibited a large capacity for imbibing the wonderful and improbable, a fact which had not escaped Mr Johnson's acute observation.

By the time Toby Bluff had brought the boatswain his usual evening glass of grog, and he had cleared his throat, and, as he remarked, brought up his thoughts from the store-lockers of memory, a large audience was collected in and outside the cabin.

"Listen then, and let no one doubt me," continued Mr Johnson. "I told you the Lady Stiggins was bound round Cape Horn. We were running down the coast of America, when somewhere to the southward of the latitude of Demerara it came on to blow very hard from the north and west. The clouds came rushing along the sky like a mass of people all hurrying to see the king open parliament, or a clown throw a summersault at a fair, or anything of that sort, while the wind howled and screeched in the rigging as I have heard wild beasts in the woods in Africa, and the sea got up and tumbled and rolled as if the waves were dancing for their very lives. You need not believe it, but the foam flew from them so thick that it actually lifted the ship at times out of the water. We had sent down our topgallant yards, and had just furled the courses, and were in the act of lowering our main-topsail to reef it close, when a squall, more heavy than before, came right down upon us. I was at the helm at the time, and heard it roaring up astern. The main-topsail yard had just reached the cap, and the fore-topsail was the only sail showing to the breeze. The blast struck us; a clap, as if of thunder, was heard, and away flew our fore-topsail clean out of the bolt-ropes, and clear of everything. Off it flew, right away to leeward, down upon the breeze. I kept my eye on it, and observed that instead of sinking, from the strength and buoyant power of the wind, it retained precisely the same elevation above the sea that it had done when spread to the yard. I did not mention the circumstance to anyone, but took care not to lose sight of the sail. This was a hint to us not to set more canvas, so the main-topsail was furled, and away we scudded, under bare poles, right in the wake of the fore-topsail. Instead of abating, the wind increased till it blew a perfect hurricane. I, however, kept at the helm, and explaining to the captain the occurrence I had observed, begged to be allowed to remain there. At first he would scarcely believe me, and declared that it was a white cloud ahead of us, but I was so positive, that at last he let me have my way. Well, we steered straight on all that day, and when night approached I took the bearings of the sail that we might follow it as before. The wind did not vary, and in the morning there it was, exactly in its former position, only I think we had gained a little on it. On, on we ran, tearing rather over than through the foaming ocean, but still we did not come up with the fail. At last I was obliged, from very weariness, to let a careful hand relieve me at the helm, and, desiring to be called if we neared the sail, I turned in and went to sleep. Now you will want to know, young gentlemen, why I was so anxious to come up with the sail? The fact is that I had taken a notion into my head, which I will tell you presently. Well, I was so weary that I slept for five-and-twenty hours without turning, and I could scarcely believe that I had been in my hammock more than an hour, for when I came on deck everything was exactly as I had left it. Feeling much refreshed, and having swallowed two dozen of biscuits, a leg of pork, and a gallon of rum and water, I took the helm, resolved to carry out my intentions. It wasn't, however, till the next morning, when the sun broke out from behind the clouds, that it shone directly on our fore-topsail, now not the eighth of a mile ahead of us. For some reason or other, which I have never been able satisfactorily to explain, we were coming rapidly up with it. I now saw that the moment was approaching for carrying my plan into execution. Accordingly I sent the people on to the fore-yard, and also on the fore-topsail yard, which was hoisted right up, some with palm needles and others with earings and lashings. It was a moment of intense interest. I kept the brig's head directly for the sail. We approached it rapidly; it was over the bowsprit end. My eye did not fail me, and, to my inexpressible satisfaction, we shot directly up to the sail. The men on the yards instantly secured it, and in five minutes it was again spread aloft as if it had never left its place. There, young gentlemen, if you ever see anything done like that, you may open your eyes with astonishment. I gained some credit for my performance, though there are people, I own, who do not believe in the fact, which is not surprising, as it isn't every day in the week that a ship recovers a topsail which has been blown away in a gale of wind."

There was a considerable amount of cachinnations along the deck outside, while a gruff voice grunted out, "Well, bo'sun, that is a jolly crammer;" at which Mr Johnson looked highly indignant, and we were afraid that he would not continue his narrative, but a glance at Gogles's deliciously credulous and yet astonished countenance, as he sat with his eyes and mouth wide open, staring with all his might, seemed fully to pacify him. I never met a man who enjoyed his own jokes, though certainly they were of the broadest kind, more thoroughly than did Mr Johnson.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

On the evening of which I was speaking in my last chapter, Mr Johnson was evidently in the vein for narrating his veracious history. I saw this by the twinkle of his eye, by the peculiar curls round his mouth— which poets speak of when describing Euphrosyne, or any charming young lady of mortal mould, as "wreathed smiles," but which, in the boatswain's case, could not possibly be so called—by the gusto with which he smacked his lips, after each sip of grog, and the quiet cachinnations in which he indulged, that there was no fear of his breaking off for some time, unless compelled by his duties to do so. I was right. After stretching out his legs, folding his arms, and bending down his head, as if to meditate for a few minutes, he looked up with his usual humorous expression, and taking a fresh sip of grog, recommenced—

"Some of you young gentlemen have been in a gale of wind, and a pretty stiff one too, but except the little blow we had the other day, you, Mr Gogles, have no practical experience of what a real downright hurricane is," he continued. "Why, I once was in a ship where, after we had carried away our masts, we were obliged to run under a marlinespike stuck up in the bows, but even that was too much for her, and we were obliged to send the carpenter forward with a sledge-hammer to take a reef in it by driving it further into the deck. It must blow hard, you'll allow, when it becomes necessary to take a reef in a marlinespike. In the same gale, the man at the helm had all his hair blown clean off his head; the cook, as he looked out of his caboose, had his teeth driven down his throat, and one of the boys, who was sent on deck to see how the wind was (for we were obliged to batten down and get below), had his eyelids blown so far back that it took all the ship's company to haul them down again. You don't know what a gale of wind is till you have seen it."

Some loud shouts of laughter were heard outside the berth, but Mr Johnson, without heeding them, continued:

"But, by the bye, I was describing my voyage round the Horn in the Lady Stiggins, and now I am coming to the melancholy part of my history. No sooner had we recovered our topsail than the gale abated, and nothing of moment occurred till we hauled up to the westward to round the Horn. For some days we had light winds and fine weather, but those who have doubled that Cape know well that it blows there pretty hard at times, and we soon had to learn this to our cost. Soon after noonday it came on to blow, and such a sea got up as I had never seen before. That was a sea. Sometimes we were at the top of one wave, while my pet shark, who had faithfully followed us, would be in the trough below, looking no larger than a minnow in a millstream, and sometimes when we were at the bottom we could see him looking lovingly down upon us, high above our topgallant-mast-head. At last we were driven back right in upon the coast of Patagonia, and had we not found a harbour in which to take shelter, we should have lost the ship and our lives.

"The land of Patagonia is bleak and barren, and, as you all know, the few scattered inhabitants make up for the scarcity of their numbers by their personal stature, for they are, without exception, the tallest people I have ever met. I felt quite a pigmy alongside them. They have large rolling eyes, long shaggy hair, and thick snub noses: indeed, they are as ugly a race as I ever set eyes on. Perhaps, for certain reasons, I might have been prejudiced, but of that you shall judge.

"We anchored the brig in a snug cove, where she lay completely sheltered from the tempest which raged without, and we were thus enabled to go ashore to procure wood and water, of which we stood much in need. For two days we saw no signs of inhabitants, and thus we incautiously strolled about without arms in our hands to stretch our legs. I was always of an inquisitive turn, fond of exploring strange countries; so one day, having parted from my companions, I walked on into the interior. I was thinking of turning back, for the day was far advanced, when my attention was attracted by a column of smoke ascending from among a grove of trees in a valley at no great distance from me, and being curious to ascertain the cause of it, I proceeded in that direction.