Mr Culpepper was hoisted up out of the coal-hole; Master Tommy having jumped upon his face, he looked a very miserable object, as he was well blackened, as well as much bruised from the soles of Tommy's shoes, and his nose had bled profusely. He was very incoherent for some time; but the doctor gave him an opiate, and put him to bed.

The next morning the whole affair was explained on the quarterdeck, Master Tommy well reprimanded, and desired to return to his duty. The captain was very much amused at the winding up of this affair, as it was a capital story to tell at the governor's. Tommy never had an idea that I had blown upon him, nor did Mr Culpepper imagine that their meeting was premeditated.

I had now completed the usual course of navigation under the master, and had no longer any cause for remaining in the cabin; I therefore returned to my berth; but as I had taken a liking to navigation, I now was employed daily in working sights and rating the chronometer.

We remained three weeks longer in Port Royal, and then were ordered out on a cruise, on the South American coast. There we continued for nearly six months without anything occurring worth relating, except our having captured four good prizes. We were returning to Jamaica, when we fell in with a schooner, which gave us the intelligence of the capture of the island of Curacao by four English frigates.

As we were near to the island and short of water, Captain Delmar resolved to touch at it, and remained two or three days.

The reader will perhaps recollect that the old Dutch gentleman, whose life I had saved in the pirate vessel, had stated that his name was Vanderwelt, and that he lived at Curacao. The next evening we entered the harbour, and it was astonishing to every one how so strong a place could have been taken by so small a force. The commodore, who had plenty of work on hand, requested, or rather ordered, our captain to remain with him for ten days or a fortnight, to assist him.

On the third day after our arrival I obtained leave to go on shore, as I wished to find out the old Dutch gentleman. As I was again in the captain's gig, I had very often landed, but had not had an opportunity of making inquiries, as I could not leave my boat and boat's crew.

This afternoon I landed in the gig, and went up through the gate into the town, but I could not find anyone who spoke English. At last, by asking for the house of Mynheer Vanderwelt, it was pointed out to me, and I went up to the door; it was a very large house, with a verandah all round it, painted bright green and while alternately. There were several slaves sitting down at the entrance, and I asked for Mynheer Vanderwelt; they stared at me, and wondered what I wanted, but as I was in midshipman's uniform, they were of course very civil, and one of them beckoned me to follow him, which I did, and was introduced to the old gentleman, who was sitting in a cane arm-chair with his pipe in his mouth, and fanned by two slave girls, about twelve years old.

As he had spoken to me in English on board of the pirate, I immediately went up to him, and said, "How do you do, sir?"

"I am very well, sir," replied he, taking the pipe out of his mouth. "What do you want? do you come from the English commodore? What is his pleasure?"

"No, sir," replied I; "I do not come from the commodore; but I came up to see you."

"Oh, that is all," replied the old gentleman, putting his pipe in his mouth again, and resuming his smoking. I felt rather nettled at his treatment, and then said—

"Don't you know me, sir?"

"No, sir," replied he, "I have not that honour. I have never seen you in my life before, and I do not know you."

My blood was up at this cool declaration.

"Then I wish you a good morning, sir," replied I; and turning on my heel, I was strutting out with all the dignity of an offended midshipman, when I was met face to face by the little girl, his daughter. She stared at me very much, and I passed her in sovereign contempt; she followed me timidly, and looked into my face, then panting for breath, seized me by the arm. I turned to her at being stopped in this manner, and was about to shake her off with anything but politeness, when she screamed out, and in a moment had sprung up, and was hanging with both arms round my neck.

"Fader, fader," she cried out as I struggled to disengage myself.

The old gentleman came out at the summons.

"Stop him! fader; don't let him go away," cried she in Dutch; "it is he! it is he!"

"Who, my child?" asked the old gentleman.

"The pirate-boy," replied the little girl, bursting into a paroxysm of tears, on my shoulders.

"Mein Gott! it cannot be; he was black, my child; yet," continued the old gentleman, looking at me, "he is like him. Tell me, sir, are you our preserver?"

"Yes," replied I, "I was; but that is of little consequence now. Will you oblige me by removing this young lady?" continued I, for I was highly offended.

"Sir, I ask your pardon," replied the old gentleman; "but I am not to blame. How could I recognise you in a white person when you were so dark-coloured at our meeting on board of that vessel? I am not to blame; indeed I am not, my dear young friend. I would have given ten thousand rix dollars to have met you, that I might prove my gratitude for your noble defence of us, and our preservation at such a risk. Come, sir, you must forgive the mistake of an old man, who was certainly not inclined to be civil to an officer who belonged to the squadron, who had within these few days so humiliated us by their astonishing bravery and success. Let my little girl, whose life you saved, persuade you, if I cannot."

In the mean time the little girl had dropped from my shoulder, and was on the floor, embracing my knees, and still sobbing. I felt convinced that what the old gentleman said was true, and that he had not recognised me. I had forgotten that I had been stained dark at the time that I had met them on board of the Stella.

I therefore held out my hand to the old gentleman, and raising the little girl, we all three went in together to where we had found the old gentleman on my first introduction to him.

"If you knew how delighted I am to see you, and be able to express my thanks," said Mynheer Vanderwelt, "and poor Minnie too. How often have we talked over that dreadful day, and wondered if ever we should see you again. I assure you, on my honour, that now I no longer regret the capture of the island."

Minnie stood by me during the time her father was speaking, her large blue eyes beaming through the tears with which they brimmed; and as I turned to her, our eyes met, and she smiled. I drew her towards me. She appeared as if she only required some encouragement, for she immediately kissed me several times on the cheek nearest to her, every now and then saying a word or two in Dutch to her father, which I could not understand.

I hardly need say, that after this, intimacy was soon brought about. If I thought that at first I had been treated with ingratitude, ample amends was made afterwards.

The old gentleman said during the evening, "Good heaven! if my daughter's eyes had not been sharper than mine; if you had gone away, thinking that I did not choose to recognise you—had I found it out afterwards, it would have broken my heart, and poor Minnie's too. Oh! I am grateful—very grateful to God that it was not so."

That I passed a very pleasant evening the reader may imagine. The household who had been told who I was, appeared to almost worship me. The old gentleman asked me a hundred questions as to my parentage, etcetera, about Captain Delmar and the service, and begged of me to remain with him altogether while the frigate was in port. I told him that was impossible, but that I would come as often as I could obtain leave. At nine o'clock I bade them good night, and was escorted to the boat by six of the slaves carrying lanterns.

Captain Delmar, as well as all the other captains of the frigates, had taken up his quarters on shore for the harbour was so narrow and landlocked, that the heat on board was excessive. I found that the next day old Mr Vanderwelt had paid his respects to Captain Delmar, giving him an account of what had occurred on board of the pirate much more flattering to me than what I had stated myself. The steward was present at the time, and he had told Bob Cross, who communicated it to me. Mynheer Vanderwelt had also begged as a favour that I might be permitted to stay on shore with him during the time that the frigate was in harbour, but to this Captain Delmar had not consented, promising, however, that I should have occasional leave when the service would permit of it.

The reader may recollect that the island of Curacao had been surrendered to the English in 1800, and restored to the Dutch in 1802. During that interval several English merchants had settled there and remained after the restoration, and now at the second capture we found them still on the island. From these we received the information that Mr Vanderwelt was the richest man on the island, and that the Dutch government was indebted to him in very large sums; that he had long retired from business, although he had large property in the Havannah, which he received with his wife, who had been a Spanish lady, and that it was his intention to have gone back to Holland by the first man-of-war which should have arrived.

We remained three weeks at Curacao, during which time the first lieutenant gave me leave to go on shore almost every evening after the captain had dismissed his gig, and to remain at Mr Vanderwelt's till half-past eight the following morning, when I joined my boat, and attended on the captain. By this plan my duty was not interfered with, and I had many pleasant meetings with my new friends, and became, as may be imagined, very intimate with little Minnie.

I may as well describe her. She was about ten years old, tall for her age; she was very fair, with deep blue eyes, and very dark hair; her countenance was very animated and expressive, and she promised to be a very handsome woman. Her father doted upon her, for he had no other child; he had married late in life, and his wife had died a few days after Minnie was born. She was very affectionate in disposition, and very sweet-tempered; up to the present she had received but little education, and that was one principal reason for Mr Vanderwelt's wishing to return to Holland. I soon became as one of the family, and certainly was treated as such.

Minnie was very curious to know what it was that I carried about my neck in the seal-skin pouch, but I never could tell either her or her father what it really was. Mr Vanderwelt very often asked me if I liked being at sea, and I invariably replied in the affirmative.

At last the frigate was to sail, and I had but one more evening to pass with them. Mr Vanderwelt appeared very grave, and little Minnie would every now and then during the evening burst into tears at the idea of our separation.

At last the hour of parting arrived—it was very painful. I promised to write to them, and Mr Vanderwelt told me that his house was always ready to receive me, and begged that if I wanted anything I would let him know.

I cried, myself, when I left the house—the first time that I ever cried, I believe, on such an occasion. The next morning we were again under weigh, to rejoin the admiral at Jamaica.

Bob Cross had told me that he wished to have a little talk with me in the first watch, and I met him on the gangway, our usual rendezvous.

"Master Keene, I have some news for you, which I gained from the steward last night. I will say, that his ears are always open; not that I think he is generally what is called an eavesdropper but he likes you, and when you are concerned, he does care to find out what is going on. Now you see, sir, that Dutch gentleman whom you saved from the nigger pirate came to call on Captain Delmar yesterday morning, and, after some palaver, he told the captain that he wished you to remain with him altogether, and leave his majesty's service; and he begged the captain to allow you to be discharged, and then he would be a father to you, as you had no father. There was a great deal more which the steward could not make out, but it was all to that effect. Well, the captain said that it was very true that you had lost your father but that he considered you as his own son, and could not part with you on any account; and he stated that you were so promising an officer, that it be very wrong that you should leave the service, and that it must not be thought of. The old gentleman said a great deal, and tried very hard to persuade the captain, but it was of no use. The captain said he would never let you go till you were a post-captain and commanded a fine frigate, and then you would of course be your own master, and act as you please."

"I am very glad to hear all this, Bob, I can assure you."

"Yes, sir, it is very good news: but, Master Keene, I only hope, knowing Captain Delmar as you do, that you will act towards him as if you had never heard it."

"I will, depend upon it, Cross. As for leaving the service, that I would not have done even if Captain Delmar had agreed to it. I'm an Englishman, and I don't want to be under Dutch protection."

"That's right, sir—that's right—just as I wished you to feel. How time flies away. Why, Master Keene, you have been afloat nearly three years."

"Within a month, Bob."

"And you're growing such a tall fellow, they won't keep you much longer in the captain's gig, I expect: I shall be sorry for that. So Master Tommy Dott is in another scrape."

"How?—I heard nothing of it."

"No, because it's only within this half-hour that he's got in it."

"Tell me."

"Why, sir, Mr Culpepper had fallen fast asleep on the gunroom table, under the skylight, which, as you know, is always open, and his head had fallen back, and his mouth was wide open: there was no other officer in the gun-room except Mr Culpepper: and Tommy Dott, who perceived him, asked Timothy Jenkins, the maintop-man, to give him a quid of tobacco; well, Jenkins takes it out of his cheek, red-hot, as you may suppose, and hands it to Master Tommy, who takes his perpendicular very accurately, and drops the quid into the purser's open mouth.

"Mr Culpepper was almost choked, but after a terrible coughing, the quid comes up again; notwithstanding, he turns as sick as a dog, and is obliged to run to the basin in his cabin. Well, sir, as soon as he comes out again, he goes up under the half deck, and inquires of the sentry who it was that did it; and the sentry, who is that sulky fellow, Martin, instead of knowing nothing about it, says directly, it was Master Tommy; and now there's a formal complaint made by Mr Culpepper on the quarter-deck, and Master Tommy will get it as sure as a gun."

"He don't know how to play a trick," replied I; "he is always found out and punished: the great point is, not to be discovered—that's the real pleasure in playing a trick."

"Well, you certainly do manage well, Master Keene; but I think it's almost time you left them off now, you're getting an oldster. Why, you must be seventeen, sir?"

"Yes, Bob, not very far from it."

"Well, I suppose I must say Mister Keene for the future."

"You may call be what you like, Bob; you have been a good friend to me."

"Well, sir, I only hope that Captain Delmar will make you a post-captain, as he says, and that you'll get a fine frigate, and I'll be your coxswain; but that's a long way to look to, and we shan't have any more councils of war on the gangway then."

"No; but we may in the cabin, Cross."

"A large sail on the starboard bow," cried the look-out man forward.

"A large sail on the starboard bow," reported the mate of the watch.

My glass was on the capstern, and I ran for it, and went forward to examine the vessel, although my duty as signal midshipman was ended at sunset.

"What do you make of it, Mr Keene?" said the officer of the watch.

"I think she is a man-of-war; but it is so dark, that I cannot make her out very clearly."

"Is she standing this way?"

"Yes, sir, under top-sails and top-gallant-sails, I think."

The officer of the watch went down to report to the captain, who had not yet turned into his cot. Captain Delmar had been informed that a Dutch frigate was expected at the island, but not until the following month; still we had no reason to suppose that there were any of our frigates down in these latitudes, except those lying in the harbour at Curacao. The wind was light, about a three knot breeze, and there being no moon till after twelve o'clock, it was very difficult to make out what she was. Some said she was a two-decked vessel. The captain went down to look at his private signals for the night, and before he came up I was all ready with the lanterns.

"Two lights over one in a triangle; be quick, Mr Keene."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied I.

The lights were soon hoisted at the peak, but as they could not well be seen by the other vessel, as we were standing towards her, we went about and hove to across her hawse. For a quarter of an hour she continued to stand towards us without noticing the signals; at last the captain said, "They must be all asleep on board of the vessel."

"No, Captain Delmar," replied I, keeping my telescope on the vessel, "they are not all asleep, for I saw lights on the main-deck through the bow-ports. I see them again now."

"So do I," said the first lieutenant.

"Then we'll beat to quarters, Mr Hippesley," rejoined the captain.

The men were summoned to quarters, and hammocks piped up and stowed in a very short time, the guns cast loose, and every man at his post (but the ports not opened), waiting the coming down of the stranger, now about a mile distant, when suddenly she rounded to the wind on the same tack that we were, and set her royals and flying-jib.

"She does not answer our signals," observed the captain: "I suspect by that and her present manoeuvre she must be an enemy."

"I have no doubt of it, sir," observed the first lieutenant; "an English frigate would not behave in that way."

"Open the ports and get up the fighting lanterns, then," said the captain; for, up to the present, we had been careful not to show any lights.

It was now plain to see that her men were at their quarters and that she was prepared for action. When everything was ready on deck, the royals and flying-jib were set, and we gave chase. The strange vessel was about three-quarters of a mile on our weather-beam; in half an hour we had gained upon her considerably, and our sailing was so superior that we were satisfied, should she prove an enemy, that in an hour more we should be engaged.

Of course, we might have engaged her at the distance we were from her, but you cannot be too careful in a night action, and ought never to engage without first hailing the vessel to make sure that she is an enemy, as circumstances may, and have occurred by which an English vessel may not be able to answer the private signal, and, of course, a vessel belonging to a neutral power would be in the same position.

The incertitude which existed as to whether the strange vessel was an enemy or not created great excitement. My duty, as signal midshipman, placed me abaft on the quarter-deck, and Bob Cross, who was really a quarter-master, although doing duty as captain's coxswain, was at the wheel.

At last we had brought the chase well on our weather quarter, and when we tacked we found that we lay well up, she being about a point on our lee bow. Another half-hour brought us within two cables' length of her, when we kept away, so as to pass her to leeward, close enough to have thrown a biscuit on board. The stranger still remaining on the opposite tack, Captain Delmar then hailed from the gangway—

"Ship, a-hoy!"

There was a death-like silence on board of both vessels, and his voice pierced sonorously through the night wind.

"Ah! yaw!" was the reply.

"What ship is that?" continued Captain Delmar.

During this time every man was at his gun; the captains, with the lanyards of the locks in their hands, ready to pour in a broadside.

The reply from the other vessel was—"Vat chip is dat?"

"His Britannic Majesty's ship Calliope," replied Captain Delmar; and then he repeated—"What ship is that? Let every man lie down at his quarters," said Captain Delmar. The order was hardly obeyed, when the stranger frigate poured in her broadside, and as we were then very close, with great execution to our hull and rigging: but as the men had been lying down, very few of them were hurt.

As soon as the crash was over, Captain Delmar cried out—"Up, men, and fire, as I round to under her stern."

In a few seconds we had passed through the volumes of smoke, and luffed up under her stern: we poured in our whole broadside.

"Let her go off again—flatten in there forward. Reedy about," was the next order given.

We ran away from her about three cables' length, until we had sufficient way to tack, and then we went about and stood towards her, steering for her weather quarter, as if we were going to engage her to windward.

"Over to the larboard guns, my lads. Hands by, after bracings and howlings, Mr Hippesley."

"Aye, aye, sir, all ready."

As soon as we were near enough, the after-yards were shivered, the jib sheet to windward, and the helm put up. The Calliope worked beautifully; she paid sharp off, and we again passed under her stern, and gave another raking broadside; very unexpected on the part of the Dutchman, who presumed that we were going to engage him to windward, and had his men all ready at his larboard guns in consequence.

The Dutch captain was evidently much annoyed: he stood at the taffrail, and, much to our amusement, cried out, in bad English, "You coward—not fight fair."

As we shot ahead of her, to leeward, she gave us a portion of her starboard broadside: but the men, having been over at the guns on the other side, were not quick enough, and they did us no injury; whereas, her mizzen-mast fell over the side a few minutes after we passed her.

She then raid off, and so did we, so that she might not rake us, and broadsides were exchanged on equal terms; but before we had exchanged these broadsides, both ships running with the wind on the quarter, we found that our superiority in sailing free was so great, that we shot ahead of him out of his fire, and we were enabled to luff up and rake him again.

The last raking broadside brought down his main-topmast and then she was all our own, as Bob Cross said; as she could not round to with no after sail, and we could from our superiority in sailing, take our position as we pleased, which we did, constantly keeping ahead of him, and raking him, broadside after broadside, and receiving but one broadside in return, until his foremast went by the board, and he had nothing but his main-mast standing.

This bettered his condition on the whole; as, although hardly manageable with so little wind, he had more power over his vessel, as far as rounding to the wind, which he did, and the action continued; but our fighting under sail gave us great advantage, and although an occasional shot would come in, and we had to carry some men into the cockpit, for one shot we received, we certainly returned ten. The action had continued about an hour, when, by the continual cannonading, the light wind was beaten down, and it fell dead calm. This put us again upon a more equal footing, as the Calliope had not steerage way.

We were then about a quarter of a mile apart, lying head and stern; but both ships had fallen off during the calm, so that only the quarter guns of each could be brought to bear. The major portion of the ship's company being, therefore, not able to use their guns, were employed in repairing the damages we had received, which were very considerable, especially in the sails and rigging.

I was standing by Bob Cross, who was looking out for cats' paws, as we call slight breaths of wind, when he said in a low voice:—

"Master Keene, I never had an idea that the captain could handle his ship so well: he really knows what he's about as well as any man in the service."

"I thought so, too," replied I. "Whew! there's a nasty shot," cried I, as one came in and upset half a dozen of the marines, who were hauling upon the mizzen-topsail sheet, which had just been spliced.

"Yes, sir, that chap is made of good stuff, depend upon it—all the Dutchmen are: if they could only keep their hands out of their breeches pockets, they would be rummer customers than they are now; as it is, they are not to be played with; and, depend upon it, we're a long way off having him yet: we must pray for wind to come up and he must pray for the calm to continue."

"Where's Mr Keene?" said the captain, who was on the other side of the deck.

"Here, sir," said I, running up and touching my hat.

"Mr Keene, go down quietly and ascertain how many men we have hurt: the doctor will be able to tell you pretty nearly."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied I, and I dived down below; just as I did so, a shot came in and cut away the lower rail of the copper stanchions which were round the hatchway, about a foot beyond my hat: had I not gone down so quickly, it would have taken my head off.

I went down into the gun-room, for the doctor preferred being there to the cockpit, as there was so much more room to operate, and I gave him the captain's message.

He was very busy taking off a poor fellow's leg. It was a horrible sight and made me sick and faint. As soon us the bone had been sawed off, he said—

"You will find all the wounded I have dressed in the steerage; those they have brought me down dead are in the cockpit. There have been five amputations already the master is badly wounded, and Mr Williams the mate, is killed: those whom I have not been able to attend to yet, are here in the gun-room. You must ascertain what the captain wishes to know yourself, Mr Keene. I cannot, leave a leg with the arteries not taken up, to count heads. Mr Rivers, the tenaculum—ease the tourniquet, now."

As I felt what the doctor said to be true, I got a lantern and commenced my examinations. I found fourteen wounded men waiting the doctor's care in the gun-room, which was almost a pool of blood. In the steerage there were nine who had been dressed, and four in their hammocks, who had undergone amputation of the arm or leg. I then went down into the cockpit, where I counted eleven of our best men lying dead. Having obtained the information required, I was proceeding up the cockpit ladder, when I turned towards the purser's steward's room, and saw Mr Culpepper, the purser, on his knees before a lantern; he looked very pale—he turned round and saw me.

"What's the matter?" cried he.

"Nothing, sir; only the captain wishes to know how many men are killed and wounded."

"Tell him I do not know: surely he does not want me on deck?"

"He wants to know how many men are hurt, sir," replied I, for I perceived that he thought that the message was sent to him.

"Mercy on me! Stop a minute, Mr Keene, and I'll send up word by you."

"I can't stop, sir," replied I, going up the ladder.

Mr Culpepper would have called me back, but I preferred leaving him in his error, as I wished to see which he most dreaded, the captain's displeasure or the shot of the enemy.

I returned on deck and made my report. The captain looked very grave, but made no reply.

I found that the two frigates were now lying stern to stern, and firing occasional guns, which raked fore and aft. Except the men who worked the guns aft, our people were lying down at their quarters, by the order of the captain.

"If we only had but a capful of wind," said the captain to the first lieutenant, "but I see no appearance of it."

I touched my hat and said, "The moon will rise in about ten minutes, sir, and she often brings the wind up with her."

"That's true, Mr Keene, but it's not always the case. I only hope she will; if not, I fear we shall lose more of our men."

The firing continued, and our main-mast had received so many shots, that we were obliged to hold it for its support. While so employed, the moon rose, and the two vessels had now a good view of each other. I directed my glass to the horizon under the moon, and was delighted to perceive a black line, which promised wind; I reported it to the master, and the promise was kept good, for in a quarter of an hour our sails flapped, and then gradually filled.

"She has steerage way, sir," reported Bob Cross.

"Thank Heaven for that," replied Captain Delmar. "Jump up, men. Brace round the yards, Mr Hippesley."

"The enemy's main yard is cut in two in the slings, sir," reported I, after I had my glass upon her.

"Then her last hope is gone," replied Mr Hippesley. "Haul over the starboard jib-sheet forward—let her come to, quartermaster. Larboard guns, my lads."

"Now, my men," cried Captain Delmar, "make short work of her."

This injunction was obeyed. We had now a good sight of the enemy, and brought our whole broadside to bear upon her stern; and after a quarter of an hour more firing I perceived that her ensign was no longer on the staff, where it had been hoisted after the fall of the mizenmast; neither had she for the last five minutes given us a gun in return.

"She has struck, sir, I think," said I to Captain Delmar; "her ensign is down."

"Pass the word 'Cease firing,' Mr Hippesley; but let the guns be all reloaded in case of accidents. Have we a boat that can swim? Examine the cutters, Mr Keene."

I found the cutter on the larboard quarter, with her bottom out: she could not swim, that was clear. The starboard one was in better condition.

"The starboard cutter will float, sir; her gunwale is all torn away, but there are rollocks enough to pull."

"Let her be cleared away and lowered down, Mr Hippesley. Send for the second lieutenant."

"I believe he's not on deck sir," replied the first lieutenant.

"Not much hurt, I hope?"

"A splinter, I was told, sir."

"Where's Mr Weymss, the third lieutenant? Mr Weymss, jump into the boat, and take possession of the prize: take as many men as you can; and, Mr Keene, with Mr Weymss, and as soon as you have gained the necessary information, come back with the boat and two hands."

I followed the third lieutenant info the boat, and we pulled on board of our antagonist. A junior officer received us on the deck, and presented his sword. His left arm was bound up, and he was very pale from loss of blood. He spoke pretty good English; and we found that we had captured the Dort, Dutch frigate, of thirty-eight guns, bound to Curacao, with a detachment of troops for the garrison, and a considerable quantity of ammunition and specie on board for the use of the colony.

We inquired whether the captain was much hurt, as he did not appear on deck.

"He is dead, gentlemen," replied the young officer: "he was my father. Our loss has been very great. I am only a cadet, yet I am commanding officer."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he said that the captain was his father, and I felt for him. Shortly afterwards he staggered to a carronade slide, and dropped down on it, and very soon was in a state of insensibility.

The carnage had been dreadful, and the bulwarks of the vessel had been shattered to pieces. The scene was almost as had as the Stella's decks before she was blown up by the negro captain. Several of the guns were dismounted and two of them had burst. I had only time to go round the gun-deck, and then I ordered two hands into the boat, that I might make my report to Captain Delmar.

I asked the third lieutenant to allow me to take on board the young officer, who still remained lifeless on the carronade slide, and, as it was proper for me to bring back with me the commanding officer, he consented. We lowered him with a rope into the boat, and then I returned on board of the Calliope, and went up to the captain to make my report, and present him with the sword of the officer commanding the prize.

Just as I was commencing my story, Mr Culpepper came up without his wig, and in a state of great disorder, with a piece of dirty paper in his hand. He trembled very much from the effects of his alarm, but made a very profound bow, and said to Captain Delmar—

"Here is the state of killed and wounded, Captain Delmar, as far as I have been able to collect them. I could not possibly get them ascertained before, although I have been an hour or two employed—ever since Mr Keene came down."

The captain, who did not like the interruption, replied very haughtily, "Mr Culpepper, it's the duty of the surgeon to send in the report of killed and wounded. You had better go down below, get your dress in a little better order. Now, Mr Keene."

Old Culpepper slunk away as I proceeded to give the information, and the captain now asked the carpenter if the pinnace was sufficiently repaired.

"In a few minutes, sir," was the reply.

"Mr Hippesley, you must, then, send forty hands on board the prize to repair her damages, as far as we can. Mr Weymss must remain on board."

In the meantime the young officer had been taken down below to the surgeon, who had now some leisure to attend to him. He was soon restored, and the surgeon expressed his opinion that it would be possible to save his arm. I went down to see him, and I gave him my hammock to sleep in for the present, and as soon as he was comfortably arranged under the half-deck I returned to the quarter-deck, and made myself as useful as I could, for we had plenty to do on board of our own frigate, knotting and splicing, having only made temporary repairs.

It was now dawn of day, and very soon afterwards broad daylight. The men were ordered aft with the buckets, and the decks, which were smeared and black with powder and the blood of the wounded, were washed down. That we were all very tired I hardly need say, but it was not yet time for repose; the magazines had been secured and the fires lighted.

Another boat, with the carpenter and assistant-surgeon, had been sent on board the prize to remedy any serious damage and to assist in dressing the wounded. I was sent with the boat. Mr Weymss, the third lieutenant, had not been idle: jury-masts were in preparation, the decks had been cleared, the dead thrown overboard, and the wounded taken below.

On mustering the remainder of the Dort's ship's company, and calling over the muster-roll of the troops on board, we found that she had lost the captain, 2 lieutenants and 10 officers, 73 seamen and 61 soldiers, killed; and the first-lieutenant, 13 officers, and 137 wounded—147 killed and 151 wounded: total 298. She had received several shot between wind and water, and had a good deal of water in the hold: this was, however, soon remedied by the carpenter and his crew, and the frigate pumped out by the prisoners.

I returned on board of the Calliope with this intelligence to the captain, and found that the surgeon had just sent in the report of our own loss, which was, 1 officer and 17 men killed—master, 2 lieutenants, 2 midshipmen, and 47 wounded.

"Do you know who are the midshipmen wounded?" said the captain to me.

"I heard that Mr James was killed, sir, but not the names of those who are wounded; but I think one of them must be Mr Dott, or we certainly should have seen him about."

"I should not be surprised," replied the captain. "Sentry, ask who are the young gentlemen wounded."

The sentry replied, "Mr Castles and Mr Dott."

"Well," replied the captain, "he'll be in no more mischief for some time; I heard of his trick to the purser."

As the captain was saying this, I perceived the piece of paper which the purser had brought up as his report of killed and wounded lying on the table with the other reports. It had, apparently, not been examined by the captain, but my eye caught it, and I observed, written in a shaking hand, "Pieces of beef, 10; ditto pork, 19; raisins, 17; marines, 10." I could not help smiling.

"What are you amused with, Mr Keene, may I ask?" said the captain, rather gravely.

"I beg your pardon, sir, for venturing so in your presence," replied I; "but it is Mr Culpepper's report of killed and wounded;" which I then took up, and handed to the captain.

This proof of Mr Culpepper's state of mind during the conflict was too much for even Captain Delmar, who laughed outright.

"The old fool," muttered he.

"You may go now, Mr Keene. If breakfast is ready, tell Mr Hippesley to let the men have it as soon as possible."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied I, and bowing respectfully, I quitted the cabin; for I felt that Captain Delmar thought that he had not been quite so reserved towards me as he always wished to be.

As soon as I had given the captain's orders, I went down to find out Tommy Dott. He was in his hammock, next to mine, in which I had put the young Dutch officer. Dott was wide awake, and, apparently, very feverish.

"Where are you hurt, Tommy?"

"I am sure I don't know," said he. "Get me some water, Keene."

I got a pannikin of water, and he drank it.

"Don't you know where you are hurt?"

"I believe it's my side—somewhere about the body, I know; but I'm so stiff all over, that I can't tell exactly where. Something hit me, and I fell right down the hatchway; that's all I know about it until I found myself in my hammock."

"Well, at all events, you won't be punished now for dropping the quid into Mr Culpepper's mouth."

"No," replied Tommy, with a smile, in spite of his pain; "but I would have played him a better trick than that if I had had any idea that we should have been so soon in action. I wish I could turn round, Keene—I think I should be easier."

I turned poor Tommy in his hammock, and then left him. I looked at the son of the Dutch captain—he was slumbering; he was a very slight youth, with very beautiful, but very feminine features. I felt a kindness towards him, poor fellow; for he had lost his father, and he was about to pass his best years in prison. But the boatswain's mates piped to breakfast, and I hastened down into the berth to get my share of the cocoa.

As soon as the men had finished their breakfast, the hands were again turned up, the lower deck cleared and washed, new sails bent and the guns properly secured; screens were put up round the half-deck where the wounded were in their beds. The dead were brought up and sewed up in their hammocks, laid out on gratings, and covered with the ensign and union jack, preparatory to their being committed to the deep. Another party was sent to assist on board of the prize, and the prisoners were brought on board, and put down in the fore-hold, which had been cleared for their reception.

By noon everything was so far ready that we were enabled to take the prize in tow, and make sail on the Calliope, after which the men, who were exhausted, went to dinner, and were permitted to sleep during the remainder of the day until the evening, when the ship's company was ordered up, and the dead were committed to the deep blue sea with the usual ceremonies.

The breeze was steady but the water was smooth during the night, and glad I was to throw myself on one of the lockers in the midshipmen's berth, after so many hours of excitement. I slept till four in the morning, and finding the planks not quite so soft as they might be, I then turned into the hammock of the midshipman of the morning watch, and remained till six hells, when Bob Cross came down and told me that the captain would soon be on deck.

"Well, Cross," said I, as I came on deck and went aft to look at the prize in tow, "this is a nice business, and our captain will gain a great deal of credit."

"And he deserves it, Master Keene," replied Cross: "as I said before, I never had an idea that he could handle his ship so well—no, nor none of the ship's company. We all thought Mr Hippesley the best officer of the two, but we have found out our mistake. The fact is, Mr Keene, Captain Delmar wraps himself an in his dignity like a cloak, and there's no making him out, till circumstances oblige him to take it off."

"That's very true, Bob," replied I: "it is only this very morning that he laughed himself, and I laughed also, and he pulled up immediately afterwards, twice as stiff to me as before."

I then told Bob of Mr Culpepper's report, which amused him very much.

"I am sure that he is pleased with you, Mr Keene, and I must say that you were very useful and very active."

"Do you know that the carpenter says that we have received injuries that cannot be well repaired without the ship going into dock, and I should not be surprised if we were to be sent home, if the survey confirms his report. I hope we shall; I am tired of the West Indies, and I should like to see my mother; we have a nice breeze now, and we are two points free. If it lasts, we shall be at Jamaica in a fortnight or less."

The captain coming on deck put an end to our conversation.

Before night the prize had got up jury-masts, and sail set upon them, and we went through the water more rapidly. In ten days we arrived at Port Royal with our prize. The captain went on shore, and what was still more agreeable, we got rid of all our prisoners and wounded men. A survey, in consequence of the carpenter's report was held upon the Calliope, and the result was, she was ordered home to be repaired. The Dort was commissioned by the admiral, and Mr Hippesley received an acting order to the sloop of war, which had become vacant by the commander of her being promoted into the Dort, which was now christened the Curacao.

In ten days after our arrival we were ready, and made sail for Old England. Tommy Dott and the second lieutenant remained on board, and were both convalescent before we entered the Channel. Tommy Dott's wound, by the bye, was a splinter in the back, added to severe bruises from tumbling down the hatchway.

Captain Delmar had shown great kindness to the son of the Dutch captain and he did not send him on shore with the rest of the prisoners, but permitted him to remain, and come home in the Calliope. He recovered slowly, but was soon out of danger, and was walking about with his arm in a sling long before we arrived in England. It appeared to me that, during the passage home, old Culpepper was not so much in the good graces of Captain Delmar as he used to be; he was, however, more obsequious than ever. We had a fine run home, and in seven weeks from our leaving Port Royal, we dropped our anchor at Spithead.

I may have been wrung, but it certainly did appear to me that as we neared the coast of England, the behaviour of Captain Delmar was more reserved to me (I may say it was harsher) than ever it had been before. Hurt at treatment which I felt I did not deserve, I tried to analyse the cause as I walked up and down the deck, and at last I decided that his pride was again alarmed. On the one hand he was returning to his own country, to meet with his aristocratical connections, and on the other he was reminded of my mother, and his mesalliance with her—if such a term can be used to a woman who had sacrificed herself to one above her in rank. At all events, I was the result of that connection, and I presumed that he was ashamed of it, and consequently kept me at a distance, and checked his feelings towards me. Perhaps he thought that my mother might be induced to disclose to me that which I had under his own hand-writing, and wore next my heart; or he might consider I was no longer a boy, but a tall young man, and one who might be induced to claim his protection. Such were my reflections, and my resolutions were taken accordingly—I wanted no Bob Cross to counsel me now.

When the captain left the ship, I made no request, as did the other midshipmen, for leave to see my friends; nor even when he returned on board, which he did several times after the ship had gone into harbour, and was stripping, preparatory to being docked. One thing, however, gave me great satisfaction, which was, that when the despatch which we brought home was published, I found my name honourably mentioned in conjunction with other officers, and but three midshipmen were named.

When the Calliope went into dock the report of the dockyard was very unfavourable. She required a thorough repair which would take some months. She was therefore ordered to be paid off. In the mean time the captain had gone to London. During his sojourn at Portsmouth I had never spoken to him, except on duty, and he had left me without a word of explanation as to his intentions towards me. As soon, however, as the order came down for paying off the ship, I received a letter from him, very cold and stiff, stating that I might, if I pleased, join any other ship, and he would recommend me to the captain; or I might remain on the books of the guard-ship, and wait until he commissioned another vessel, when he would be happy to take me with him.

My reply was immediate. I thanked him for his kindness, and hoped I might remain on board the guard-ship until he took the command of another vessel, as I did not wish to sail with any other captain. I had been brought forward by him in the service, and preferred waiting for months rather than lose his kind protection.

The only reply to my letter was an order from the Admiralty, for me to be discharged into the guard-ship when the Calliope was paid off.

I hardly need say that I had written and received letters from my mother, who was delighted at my name being mentioned in the despatches; but I will defer family news till the proper opportunity, as I must first tell all that occurred in the Calliope before she was paid off.

The reader will recollect that the son of the Dutch captain, whose name was Vangilt, had been permitted to come home in the ship, instead of being sent to prison. He and I were very intimate and when I discovered that he was the cousin of Minnie Vanderwelt, I became more partial to him. He was very melancholy during the passage home; how, indeed, could he be otherwise, with the prospect of being a prisoner during the remainder of the war? and he often expressed his feelings on the subject.

"Could you not escape?" said I, one evening.

"I fear not," replied he. "If once out of prison, I have no doubt but that I could get a conveyance over the Channel by means of the smugglers; indeed, I have connections in England who would assist me."

When Captain Delmar went away to town, he had quite forgotten the poor fellow, and Mr Weymss, who was the commanding officer, did not make any special report of him as he thought he might defer it till the last moment, as every day out of prison would be so much gained by young Vangilt, who was a general favourite.

In this instance, my regard for the young man made me quite forget my duty as an officer, and the Articles of War. I knew that I was about to do wrong; but I considered that, with so many thousand prisoners which we had in England, one more or less could be of no consequence, and I set to work to see if I could not effect his escape.

After much cogitation, I found I could do nothing without Bob Cross and I consulted with him. Bob shook his head, and said it was, he believed, hanging matter; but, after all, it was a pity that such a nice lad should be peeping between iron bars. "Besides," continued he, "he lost his father in the action, and he ought not to lose his liberty also. Well, Mr Keene, show me how I can help you."

"Why, Bob there's a very pretty little girl, who very often comes alongside with the old woman, and you go down into the boat and talk with her."

"Yes, sir," replied Bob, "that's the little girl I told you of, that used to repeat her fables on my knee. The fact is, I hope to splice her some of these days. It's her mother who is with her, and she will not let her come on board to mix with the other women, because she is good and modest; too good for me, I'm afraid, in one sense of the word."

"How do you mean Bob?"

"Why, sir, when I first knew her, she and her mother were living upon what they could earn, for the father was killed in action many years ago, and I used to help them as far as I could; but now I find that, although they are not changed, things are, most confoundedly. Her uncle lost his wife; he is considered a rich man, and being stone blind, and having no one to take care of him after his wife's death, he sent for this girl and her mother to keep his house and he is very fond of the girl, and declares that he will leave her all his money, and that she shall marry well. Now, sir, if she was to marry me, a petty officer only, it would not be considered that she married well; so you see, sir, there's a hitch."

"Who and what was he?"

"He was a smuggler, sir, and a very successful one; he has six or seven houses, all his own property besides the one he lives in himself. He lives about a quarter of a mile out of Gosport. I know all about him, although I have never seen him. Soon after he left off smuggling, he lost his eyesight, and, somehow or another, he considered it was a judgment upon him—at least his wife, who had joined the Ranters, persuaded him so—and so he took a religious turn, and now he does nothing but pray, and call himself a poor blind sinner."

"Well, Bob, but I do not see why you should give up the girl."

"No, sir; nor will she or her mother give me up. I could marry her to-morrow without his consent, but I do not like to do her that injury."

"He is stone-blind, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"We'll talk your affair over another time. What I want at present is, to help this poor young Vangilt to escape. He says, that if once clear, the smugglers would put him on the other side of the water. Now, it appears to me that it would be very easy for him to get out of the ship unperceived, if he were dressed in woman's clothes, so many women are going and coming all day long."

"Very true, sir, especially on pay-day, when nobody keeps any look-out at all. I see now, you want some of Mary's clothes for him; they would fit very well."

"Exactly; and I think that, as her uncle had been a smuggler, we might go and consult him as to his escape over the water. Vangilt will pay 100 pounds with pleasure—he told me so. That will be an introduction for you as well as for me to the old fellow."

"I think we had better let the old fellow suppose it's a woman—don't you, sir? But what shall we call ourselves?"

"Why, I will be a sort of agent for ships, an you shall be a captain."

"A captain! Mr Keene."

"Yes; a captain, who has had a ship, and expects another. Why, you were a captain of the fore-top before you were rated coxswain."

"Well, sir, I must consult Mary and her mother, and then I'll let you know: they will come this afternoon. Perhaps in helping Mr Vangilt, I may help myself."

That night Bob Cross told me that Mary and her mother were quite willing to assist, and that they thought it would be a very good introduction to old Waghorn: that we must expect some religious scruples at first, but we must persevere, and they had no doubt that the old man would contrive to get the young man over to Cherbourg, or some other place on the other side; that we had better call on him in the evening, and they would be out of the way.

As soon as the work was over for the day, Bob Cross and I obtained leave, and set off for Mr Waghorn's house. We were met by Mary and her mother, who pointed it out to us, and then continued their walk. We went to the door, and found the old man smoking his pipe.

"Who's there?" cried he, as we lifted the latch of the gate.

"Friends, sir," replied Cross; "two persons who come to talk on business."

"Business! I've no business—I've done with business long ago: I think of nothing but my perishing soul—poor blind worm that I am."

He was a very fine-looking old man, although weather-beaten, and his silver locks hung down on his collar; his beard was not shaved, but clipped with scissors: his want of sight gave him a mournful look.

"Nevertheless, sir, I must introduce myself and my friend, the captain," replied I, "for we want your assistance."

"My assistance! poor blind beetle—how can I assist you?"

"The fact is, sir, that a young woman is very anxious to return to her friends, on the other side of the water; and knowing that you have acquaintance with those who run to and fro, we thought you might help the poor young woman to a passage."

"That's to say, you've heard that I was a smuggler. People do say so; but, gentlemen, I now pay customs and excise—my tea has paid duty, and so has my tobacco; so does everything—the king has his own. The Bible says, 'Render under Caesar the things which are Caesar's.' Gentlemen, I stand by the Bible. I am a poor, sinful old wretch—God forgive me."

"We ask nothing against the Bible, Mr Waghorn; it's our duty to assist those who are in distress; it's only a poor young woman."

"A poor young woman. If she's poor, people don't do such work for nothing; besides, it's wrong, gentlemen—I've given up all that,—I've a precious soul to look after, and I can't divert my attention from it. I wish you good-bye, gentlemen."

At this moment Mary and her mother returned, and we rose up. "Mrs James, is that you and Mary? Here's a captain and his friend come to me; but it's a fool's errand, and so I've told them."

I then stated to Mrs James what we had come for, and begged that she would persuade Mr Waghorn.

"Well, Mr Waghorn, why won't you?—it's a good action, and will have its reward in heaven."

"Yes; but she's a poor young woman, and can't pay her passage, so it's no use."

"On the contrary," replied I, "the captain here will become security, that 100 pounds shall be paid down as soon as she arrives in any part of France or Holland."

"Will he? But who's the captain?"

"I haven't a ship just now, but I expect one soon," replied Bob; "the money shall be paid at once, if you will only receive the young woman until she can be sent off."

"Well let me see—there's James Martin; no he won't do. There's Will Simpson; yes, that's the man. Well, it's a good act; and, captain, when will you bring the money?"

Now the ship was to be paid off on Wednesday and as we had each three years' pay due, there was no difficulty about that; so I replied, "On Wednesday, the captain will give the money to this lady, or whoever comes with us to receive the young woman; will you not, Captain Cross?"

"Oh! certainly; the money is ready at an hour's notice," replied Bob. "I'm sure that she'll pay me back, if she can; and if she can't, it's of no consequence."

"Well, well, it's a bargain," replied the old man. "I'm a poor blind beetle, a sinful old soul; I've nothing to do but to make my peace with Heaven. It's charity—'Charity covereth a multitude of sins,' saith St. Paul. Recollect 100 pounds—that's the bargain. I'll send Mrs James to you; you must not call again till she's on the other side of the water."

"Many thanks, sir," replied Bob. "I won't call till I hear she is safe, and then I'll bring you some tobacco to smoke, such as you don't often pick up nowadays."

"Happy to see you, Captain Cross, and your friend there," replied the old man.

We then took our leave. Mrs James, after we were gone, praised the appearance of Captain Cross, as such a nice-looking man, and old Waghorn evidently thought well of him by the answer he made. Mary, however, pretended to prefer me.

As soon as I returned on board, I told young Vangilt what I had been about. He wrung my hand, and the tears started in his eyes. "You, as an officer, are indeed risking much for me. As to the money, you know me, I trust, too well, not to be sure of receiving it as soon as I can send it; but I never can repay your kindness."

"Perhaps you may be able to help me one of these days," I replied. "Who knows? It's fortune of war, my good fellow; but it's as well not to be seen too much together." So saying, I left him.

The next day, Mrs James came off with the necessary garments and bonnet for his escape, and they were given me by Bob Cross. The day after was pay-day; and the ship was in such a state of confusion, and there were so many people on board, that there was no difficulty whatever. Vangilt changed his clothes in the midshipmen's berth, which was empty, and Bob Cross handed him down the side into the boat, where Mrs James waited to receive him. Bob and I had both been paid, and we gave her the 100 pounds for old Waghorn. The boat shoved off; Vangilt arrived safe at Waghorn's house, where he was kept concealed for eight days, when, for the sum of 20 pounds, he was safely landed on the French coast, old Waghorn having pocketed 80 pounds by the transaction which, considering he acted out of pure charity, was a pretty good reward.

Having thus successfully managed, by being guilty of high treason, in aiding and abetting the enemy, I bade farewell to Bob Cross, leaving him to follow up his amour, while I went to Chatham to pay my respects to my mother. I had made up my mind how to act. I was no longer a child, but a man in reflection as well as appearance.

I arrived, and hastened to the house from which I had escaped so mysteriously the last time I was in it. My mother threw herself in my arms, embracing me, and then looking at me with surprise and pleasure. Three years and a half had changed me; she hardly knew me, for her association of ideas had still pictured me as the smart stripling whom she had, with so much anguish, consigned into the hands of Bob Cross. She was proud of me—my adventures, my dangers, my conduct, and my honourable mention in the Gazette, were all known to her, and she had been evidently congratulated by many upon my successful career. My grandmother, who had grown much older in appearance, seemed to be softened towards me, and I had sense enough to receive her advances with great apparent cordiality. My aunt and the captain were delighted to see me, and I found that my two cousins, of whose appearance I had been duly apprised, were very pretty children. I found that my mother had two assistants in her business and everything appeared to be on a grander scale, and more flourishing than ever.

The first two or three days were devoted to narratives, communications, explanations, and admirations, as is usually the case after so long an absence; after which we quietly settled down in the relative positions of mother and son, and she assumed, or rather would have assumed, her control over me; but this was not my wish; I had made up my mind that, although a clever woman, I must in future control her, and I took the first opportunity of a long tete-a-tete to let her know that such was my intention.

Speaking of Captain Delmar, I at once told her that I knew he was my father, and that I had his own handwriting to prove it. She denied it at first; but I told her that all denial was useless, that I had possession of the letter he had written to her upon my supposed death, and that it was no ghost, but I, who had frightened my grandmother.

This was my first blow, and a heavy one, to my poor mother; for what woman can bear to be humiliated by her offspring being acquainted with her indiscretion? I loved my mother, and would fain have spared her this pang, had it not been that all my future plans were based upon this one point, and it was necessary she should aid and abet me in them.

My poor mother was bowed to the earth when she found that it was in vain to deny my parentage; she covered her face with her hands in deep shame before her child, but I consoled, and caressed, and told her (what I really felt), that I was indebted to her for not being the son of a private marine; that, at all events, I had noble blood in my veins, and would prove myself worthy of my descent, whether it were acknowledged or not; but from that hour I took the command over her—from that hour it was I that dictated, and her authority as a parent was gone for ever. Let it not be imagined that I treated her harshly; on the contrary, I was more kind, and, before other people, more dutiful than ever I was before. She was my only confidant, and to her only did I explain the reasons of my actions: she was my adviser, but her advice was not that of a parent, but that of an humble, devoted, and attached friend; and during the remainder of her days this position was never altered.

As soon as my mother had acknowledged the fact there was no longer any reservation on my part. I told her what was the conduct of Captain Delmar towards me. I pointed out his checking any display of paternal feelings towards me, and also the certainty that I had that he was partial to and proud of me. I explained to her the line of conduct which I had pursued, and was determined still to pursue, towards him.

"Percival," said my mother, "I see the judiciousness of what you say and of your behaviour towards him; but allow me to ask you: What is the object you are aiming at—I mean particularly aiming at? Of course you hope to obtain advancement from his interest, and perhaps, if he becomes more attached to you, he may not forget you when he dies; but it appears to me that you have something nearer to your heart than all this—tell me, am I right?"

"You are, my dear mother; my great end is, that Captain Delmar should acknowledge me as his son."

"I fear that he will never do that, Percival; nor, indeed, do I think you would gain by it. When you are more advanced in the world, your parentage may be considered as obscure, but still, being born in wedlock, it will be more respectable than the acknowledgment you would seek from Captain Delmar. You are not aware of the affronts you may meet with by obtaining what you evidently wish; and once known as the son of Captain Delmar, you may wish that it was never promulgated."

"I was born in wedlock, mother, as you say, and as many others are, who now are peers of the realm, and in virtue of their being born in wedlock, succeed to property to which they would otherwise not be entitled. Your shame (excuse me for using the word) and my disgrace are equally covered by that wedlock, which is an answer to any accusations of illegitimacy. As to affronts, I do not fear them, or ever shall, from those who know me. I can defend and protect myself; but it is a great difference to me to let the world suppose that I am the son of Ben the marine, when I know myself to be the son of the future Lord de Versely. I wish to be acknowledged by Captain Delmar in such a way as to convince the world that such is the fact, without the world being able to throw it up in my face. That is easily done if Captain Delmar chooses to do it; and if done as it ought to be done, will lead to my benefit. At all events, it will satisfy my pride; for I feel that I am not the son of your husband, but have blood boiling in my veins which would satisfy the proudest aristocrat. I prefer the half relation to that class, such as it is, with all its penalties to being supposed to be the son of the man whom, from prudential motives alone, you took to be your husband."

"Well, Percival, I cannot blame you; and do not you, therefore, blame your mother too much, when you consider that the same feeling was the cause of her becoming your mother."

"Far from it my dear mother," replied I; "only let us now act in concert. I require your assistance. Allow me to ask you one question— Have you not realised a sufficient sum of money to enable you to retire from our business?"

"I certainly have, my dear Percival, much more than is necessary for me to live in comfort, and I may say, some little luxury; but I have thought of you, and for your sake, every year, have continued to add to my profits."

"Then, my dear mother, for my sake give up your business as soon as possible; money is not my object."

"Tell me what your reasons are for this demand."

"My dear mother, I will be candid with you. I wish you to retire from business, and leave this place for any distant part of England; I wish you to change your name, and, in one word, I wish Captain Delmar should believe that you are dead."

"An why so, Percival? I cannot see how that will benefit you; it was on my account that he took charge of you. You are not sure that he may not be severed from you, and who knows but that my supposed death may occasion him to desert you altogether?"

"You assist my cause, my dear mother, by what you say, if it is on your account that Captain Delmar is my friend; and if as you say, he might desert me when you are dead, or supposed to be so, it is evident that his motive of action must be fear. You have the secret of my birth, which he supposes to be known only to you and to him. I am convinced that if you were supposed dead, and that the secret was his own, if he thought that there was no proof whatever against him, he would then not care showing towards me that regard which he is inclined to feel as a father, and which is now checked by his pride. Captain Delmar is naturally of a kind and affectionate disposition—that I am sure of. Your memory would do more for me than your existence ever can, and as for the rest, leave that to me. At all events, if he should, as I do not believe he will, be inclined to throw me off, I have still his written acknowledgment that I am his son, to make use of in case of necessity. Now, my dear mother, you must consent to do as I wish. Give up your business as soon as possible, and retire to another part of the country. When I consider it a proper time to do so, your death shall be made known to him. I have no doubt that he will be afloat again in a few months, and when we are out of England I will bide the proper time."

"But your grandmother, Percival—must I tell her?"

"No; tell her only that you intend to retire from business and go away from Chatham; say that you will in future reside in Devonshire, and ask her to accompany you. Depend upon it she will be pleased with your intentions. As to what we arrange relative to Captain Delmar, say nothing to her—she hates his very name, and is not likely to talk about him."

"Well, Percival you will allow me till to-morrow to think about it before I give a decided answer."

"Certainly, my dear mother; I wish you so to do, as I am convinced that you will agree with me; and I infinitely prefer that you should decide on conviction, than be induced by maternal regard."

As I was well assured, my mother's decision was favourable to my wishes. She consulted with my grandmother, who approved of her intentions, and then it was made public that Mrs Keene intended to retire from business, and that the good-will was to be disposed of along with the stock. My aunt Milly and Captain Bridgeman appeared well content that my mother should take the step which she proposed. In short, all the family approved of the measure, which is not a very usual circumstance in this world. I now employed myself in assisting my mother in her affairs. In a month we found a purchaser of the stock and good-will, and when the sum paid was added to my mother's former accumulations, she found herself possessed of 12,000 pounds in the Three per Cents, the interest of which, 360 pounds, was more than sufficient for her living comfortably in Devonshire, especially as my grandmother had still remaining an income very nearly amounting to 200 pounds per annum.

In another month everything was arranged, and my mother bade farewell to her sister and all her friends, and left Chatham, after having resided there more than seventeen years.

Long before my mother had removed from Chatham I received a letter from young Vangilt, announcing his safe arrival in Amsterdam, and enclosing an order to receive the money advanced, from a house in London. His letter was very grateful, but, as I had cautioned him, not one word was in it which could implicate me, had it fallen into other hands.

I may as well here observe, that in the hurry of paying off the ship, Vangilt was never missed, and although it did occur to the commanding officer after he had gone on shore that Mr Vangilt had not been sent to prison, he thought it just as well not to raise a question which might get himself into a scrape; in short, nothing was thought or said about it by anybody.

A few days before my mother quitted Chatham I went up to London to receive the money, and then went to Portsmouth to repay the portion belonging to Bob Cross. I found that Bob had made good use of his time, and that the old smuggler now received him as a suitor to his niece.

As however, Mary was still very young—not yet seventeen—and Bob had acknowledged that he had not laid by much money as yet, the old man had insisted that Bob Cross should get another ship, and try a voyage or two more before he was spliced; and to this arrangement both the mother and Mary persuaded him to consent. I went to call upon them with Bob, and did all I could, without stating what was not true, to give the old man a favourable opinion of Cross. I even went so far as to say that if he could not procure another vessel, I was ready to put down a sum of money to assist him; and so I was; and had it been requisite, I have no doubt but that my mother would have advanced it; but Bob, a fine seaman, not yet thirty years old, was always sure of a ship—that is, a man-of-war. To save himself from impressment, Cross had dressed himself in long toggery as a captain of a merchant vessel, and was believed to be such.

Having satisfied myself that everything went on favourably in that quarter, I again returned to Chatham, that I might escort my mother and grandmother into Devonshire. We bade farewell to my aunt and Captain Bridgeman, and set off for London, where we remained a few days at an hotel, and then took the day coach down to Ilfracombe, where my mother had decided upon taking up her future residence, changing her name to Ogilvie, which had been my grandmother's maiden name.

Ilfracombe was then a beautiful retired spot, and well suited to my mother from its cheapness: with their joint incomes, my grandmother and she could command anything they wished. We soon hired a very pretty little cottage ornee, ready furnished, as my mother would not furnish a house until she had ascertained whether there were no drawbacks to the locality. I ought to observe, that my grandmother now appeared quite as partial to me as she had before been otherwise. I treated her with great respect.

Although it was not difficult to obtain a renewal of leave from a guard-ship, after I had remained six weeks with my mother, it was necessary that I should make my appearance at Portsmouth. It was arranged that I should take my departure for Portsmouth in three days, when, on reading the Plymouth newspaper, I learnt that the newly-launched frigate Manilla, of 44 guns, was put in commission, and that the Honourable Captain Delmar had come down and hoisted his pennant. This, of course, changed my plans. I resolved to set off for Plymouth, and wait upon Captain Delmar. I wrote to Bob Cross, enclosing an order for my chest and bedding on board of the guard-ship at Portsmouth, acquainting him with my intention, but requesting him not to act until he heard from me again.

I had a long conversation with my mother, from whom I obtained a renewal of her promise to abide and act by my instructions. I took a respectful farewell of my grandmother, who gave me 100 pounds, which I did not want, as my mother had given me a similar sum, and then set off for Plymouth.

The reader may perhaps inquire how it was that Captain Delmar—as he had promised to pay my expenses—had not made any offer of the kind, or communicated with me on the subject? But the fact was, that he knew I had three years' pay due, besides the prize-money for the Dutch frigate, which, however, I had not yet received, although it was payable. In pecuniary matters I was certainly well off, as my mother desired that I would draw for any money that I required, feeling convinced that, being aware of her circumstances, I should not distress her by any extravagancies in that she did me justice.

I was now eighteen years old, and just starting again on my career. As I grew up, my likeness to Captain Delmar became more remarkable every day. My mother could not help observing it even to me. "I almost wish that it was not so, my dear mother. I fear it will be the cause of annoyance to Captain Delmar; but it cannot be helped. At all events, it must satisfy him, allowing that he has any doubt (which I am sure he has not), that I am his own child."

"That I believe to be quite unnecessary," replied my mother with a deep sigh.

"I should think so too, my dear mother," replied I, caressing her kindly. "At all events, I will prove, whether I ever obtain it or not, that I am not unworthy of the name of Delmar: but I must wait no longer—the coach is about to start. Adieu, and may God bless you."

On my arrival at Plymouth—or Plymouth Dock, as Devonport was then called—I inquired at which hotel Captain Delmar had taken up his quarters. It was the one to which I had intended to have gone myself; but I immediately had my luggage taken to another, for I really believe that Delmar would have considered it a great liberty for any one of his officers to presume, to lie down in the same caravanserai as himself. The next morning I sent up my name and was admitted.

"Good morning, Mr Keene," said the captain. "I presume that you have come down to request to join my ship, and I therefore consent before you make the request. I trust you will always show the same zeal and deference to your officers that you did in the Calliope. You have grown very much, and are now a young man. I shall give you the rating of mate, and I trust you will not do discredit to my patronage."

"I trust not, Captain Delmar," replied I. "I have but one wish in the world, which is to please you, who have so befriended me from my boyhood. I should be very ungrateful if I did not do my duty with zeal and fidelity; I am indebted to you for everything, and I am aware I must look to you for every future prospect. I have to thank you, sir, for your great kindness in publishing my name in the public Gazette."

"You deserved it, Mr Keene, and it certainly will be of great advantage to you when you have served your time. Has your time gone on since the Calliope was paid off?"

"Yes, sir; I am still on the books of the Salvadore?"

"How much time have you served?"

"Nearly four years and a half, sir."

"Well, the rest will soon be over; and if you do your duty, my patronage shall not be wanting."

Here there was a bow on my part, and a pause, and I was backing out with another bow, when the captain said, "How is your mother, Mr Keene?"

"She has been advised to retire from business, and to settle in the country," replied I, mournfully; "her health is such, that—" Here I stopped, as I preferred deceiving him by implication, or rather allowing him to deceive himself.

"I am sorry to hear that," replied he; "but she never was strong as a young woman." Here the captain stopped, as if he had said too much.

"No, sir," replied I; "when in the service of Mrs Delmar she could not be put to anything that required fatigue."

"Very true," replied the captain. "You may go on board, Mr Keene, and desire my clerk to make out a letter, requesting your discharge from the Salvadore into the Manilla. Do you require anything?"

"No, sir, I thank you. I need not trespass on your generosity just now. Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Mr Keene."

"I beg your pardon Captain Delmar," said I, as I held the door ajar; "but should you like Robert Cross, your former coxswain, should join you in the same capacity? I know where he is."

"Yes, Mr Keene, I should like to have him: he was a steady, good man. You will oblige me by writing to him, and requesting him to join immediately. Where is he?"

"At Portsmouth, Captain Delmar."

"Very well; tell him to come round as fast as he can. By the bye, you will have two of your old messmates—Mr Smith, the master, and Mr Dott. I hope the latter is a little more steady than he was. I was in hopes to have had your old acquaintance, Mr Culpepper, with us; but he died about six weeks back—a fit, or something of that kind."

"Thank heaven for that," thought I. Again I made my most respectful bow, and quitted the room.

I returned to my own hotel, and sitting down, I began to reflect upon the interview. I recalled all that had passed, and I made up my mind that I was right in preparing him for the report of my mother's death: his reception of me was all that I could have expected from him—it was cordial; but my blood boiled when I called to mind that he had only made a casual inquiry after my mother, as I was leaving the room; and then his checking himself because he had inadvertently said that she was not strong when she was a young woman. "Yes," thought I; "he cannot bear the remembrance of the connection; and it is only for myself, and not from any natural affection of a parent, that he cares for me; or if he does care for me as his son, it is because I have his blood in my veins; and he despises and looks down upon the mother. I am sure that he will be anything but sorry to hear that my mother is dead, and he shall be gratified. I will now write to her."

I could not help observing that there was some change in the appearance of Captain Delmar. Strange to say, he looked more youthful; and as I compared our two faces in the mirror on the mantel-piece behind him, when I stood up, he appeared more like me in appearance than ever. What was it? "Oh!" thought I, "I have it. His hair is no longer mixed with grey: he must wear a wig." This was the fact, as I afterwards ascertained; the colour of his wig was, however, much darker than my own hair.

By the same post I wrote to Bob Cross, acquainting him with what had passed, and begging him to come round by the first water conveyance, and bring my chest and bedding with him. I then walked down to the dockyard to have a look at the Manilla, which was, as I had heard, a splendid vessel; went up again to order a mate's uniform, and returned to the hotel. It was useless going to the ship at that time, as the marines and boys had only been drafted into her that morning; and there was nothing to do until she was clear of the shipwrights, who were still on board of her, and employed in every part of her. The first lieutenant had not yet come down. The master was the only officer who had joined, and he had hoisted the pennant. I was delighted to find that he was to sail with us; and we passed that evening together.

During the evening the master said, "I hear there are plenty of good men stowed away by the crimps at different places. I wish we could only find out where they are, and get hold of them. I fear, if we do not, we shall either be badly manned in haste from the Tower tender, or have to wait a long while before we sail. Now, Keene, don't you think you could manage so as to get us some men?"

"I've got one already," replied I: "Bob Cross, the captain's coxswain."

"And a real good one too," replied the master; "the best helmsman we had in the Calliope. You and he were very thick together."

"Yes," replied I: "when I came on board, a mere lad, he was very kind to me, and I am very partial to him in consequence."

That night after the master and I had parted, I thought over the question he had put to me, as to obtaining good seamen for the ship, and I made up my mind that I would wait till Cross arrived, and consult with him as to a project which I had in my head. In the mean time I went to a slop-shop by the dockyard wall, and provided myself with a common sailor's toggery, of the real cut, with a banyan covered hat, and all complete. Three days afterwards Cross joined me, having found a passage round in a cutter; and as soon as I had talked over his affairs, I proposed my plan to him, in which he heartily coincided.

That I did this to please the captain is certain: I had no other view. It was necessary, however, that I obtained the captain's permission, and I went to him and explained my ideas. The captain was too willing to let me try it, and thanked me for my zeal.

"Go on board, Mr Keene, and tell them I have given you six weeks' leave of absence, and then you can do as you propose."

I did so, for it was absolutely necessary that as few as possible should be acquainted with what I was about, as I ran a great risk. I have no hesitation in saying that I should have been made away with by the crimps, had they discovered me.

I dressed myself as a common seaman, darkened my face, and dirtied myself a little, especially on the hands, and Bob Cross and I then went at night into one of the low public houses, with which the town is filled; there we pretended to be much alarmed lest we should be pressed, and asked for a back-room to smoke and drink in. We called in the landlord, telling him we were second mates of vessels, and not secure from the impress; that we never were at Plymouth before, our ships having put in damaged, and that the crew were discharged; and asked if there was no safe place where we could be stowed until we could find another vessel ready to start.

He replied, that there was a house at Stonehouse where we could be quite safe; but that, of course, we must pay the crimps well for our board and lodging and that they would find us a ship when we wished to go; and further, that we must give him something handsome for taking us there. To this we agreed, and at midnight we set off in company with our landlord, each of us carrying our bundles, and in less than an hour arrived at a sort of farm-house detached from the road.

After a short parley we obtained entrance, and were taken into a small room where the crimp inquired of us what money we had, and then told us what his charges were. The reason of his doing this was, because if we had no money, or very little, he would have disposed of us very soon by sending us on board of some ship, and obtaining an advance of our wages from the captain as his indemnification; but if we had plenty of money, he would then keep us as long as he could that he might make his profit of us; his charges were monstrous, as may be supposed, and we had replied that we had very little money. We contrived to look as careless and indifferent as we could, agreed to everything, paid the landlord of the pothouse a guinea each for taking us to the house, and were then ushered into a large room, where we found about twenty seamen sitting at a long table, drinking, and playing cards and dominoes.

They did not appear to notice us, they were so busy either playing or looking on. Cross called for a pot of ale, and we sat down at the farther end of the table.

"What a dislike the men must have to the press," said Cross to me, "when they submit to be mured up here in prison."

"Yes, and cheated by such a scoundrel as the crimp appears to be."

"Don't talk so loud, Jack," replied Cross; for I had insisted upon his calling me Jack, "lest we should be overheard."

We then asked to go to bed, and were shown by the crimp into a room which had about fourteen beds in it.

"You may take your choice of those five," said he, pointing to five nearest the door: "I always come up and take away the candle."

As we found some of the other beds occupied, we did not resume our conversation, but went to sleep.

The next morning we found that we mustered about thirty-five, many of the more steady men having gone to bed before we arrived. After breakfast, Cross and I each entered into conversation with a man, and pumped them very cleverly. Our chief object was, to ascertain the houses of the other crimps, and, as the men knew most of them, having invariably resorted to them at the end of their voyages, we obtained the locality of five or six, all apparently public-houses, but having back premises for the concealment of seamen: all these were carefully noted down.

As we became more intimate, the seamen, who were glad to talk, from weariness of confinement, asked us many questions. We said that we had deserted from a man-of-war, and then a hundred questions were asked us as to our treatment. I allowed Bob Cross to be spokesman, and his replies were very sensible. He told them that all depended upon what sort of captains and first lieutenants were on board; that he had been pressed twice: the first time he was comfortable enough, and made 200 pounds prize-money in eight months; but in the last man-of-war he was very uncomfortable, and had therefore cut and run. Altogether, he made the service appear much more favourable than they supposed, although the crimp, who had stood by, did all he could to persuade the men to the contrary.

We remained in this house for more than a week, and then declared that we had no more money, and must find a ship. The crimp said that he had a berth for one of us as second mate of a brig, and I agreed to take it, leaving Bob Cross to get a berth for himself as soon as he could. As I raid up, there was no demand upon the owners of the vessel, and it was arranged that I should be down at a certain wharf at three o'clock in the morning, when I should find a boat waiting for me. I waited up with Bob Cross until the clock had struck two, and then the crimp let me out. He did not offer to go down with me, as he had no money to receive; and, as it was pitch-dark, there was little chance of my being picked up by a press-gang at that hour. I wished Cross good-bye, and set off for Plymouth Dock with my bundle on my stick.

Not knowing where to go at such an hour, I walked about to see if I could perceive a light in any house: I did so at last through the chinks of the shutters of a small ale-house, and tapped at the door; it was opened, I was ushered in, and the door closed immediately upon me. I found myself in the presence of several marines with their side-arms, and seamen with cutlasses. An officer started up from his seat, and collaring me said, "You're just the fellow we want. We're in luck to-night." In fact, I was in the hands of a press-gang, and I was pressed myself.

"Yes, he'll do: he'll make a capital maintop-man," said a midshipman, getting up and surveying me.

I looked at him, and perceived my old acquaintance Mr Tommy Dott, grown a great deal taller; I perceived that he did not recognise me. "But, sir," said I to the officer of the party, who was so disguised that I could not tell his rank, "suppose I belong to a man-of-war already?"

"That you do not; or if you do, you must be a deserter, my good fellow; that is evident by your stick and bundle. Now sit down and drink some beer, if you like; you are going to serve in a fine frigate—you may as well make yourself comfortable, for we shall not go on board yet, for this hour."

I determined to keep up my incognito, as it amused me. I sat down, and it then occurred to me that my not going on board of the vessel might lead to an explanation with the crimp, and that an alarm might be created and the men dispersed in consequence. There were still two hours to daylight, and if I could take up the press-gang, we might secure all the men in the house before the dawn of day.

As I had just made up my mind to act, there was a stamping of feet outside and a knock at the door. When it was opened, another portion of the press-gang, headed by another officer, entered. I counted heads, and found that they mustered thirty hands—quite sufficient, as they were armed, to secure all my late companions. I therefore went up to the officer, and begged to speak with him aside.

I then told him that I had just come from a crimp's house near Stonehouse, where I left in their beds thirty-five as fine men as ever walked a plank, and that, as I was pressed myself, I did not mind telling him where they were, and he could take them all.

The officer curled up his lip, as if to say, "You're a pretty scoundrel to betray your companions," but immediately resolved to act upon it. Without stating his intentions, he ordered all the men out, and putting me between two marines, so as to prevent my escaping, I was desired to lead on. I did so, and we proceeded in silence until we arrived near to the house. I then pointed out to the officer that it must be surrounded, or the men would escape, and that it must be done very carefully, as there was a large dog which would be sure to give the alarm. My advice was attended to, and when all the men were at their stations, the whole advanced slowly towards the house. The dog commenced baying, as I had foreseen, and shortly afterwards the crimp put his head out of a window, and perceived that the press-gang were below. But all attempts to force an entrance were in vain, every window below, and the doors, being secured with iron bars.

"Is there no way of getting into this den?" said the officer to me.

"Why sir, I'll try."

As Bob Cross had given another name, I knew that I risked nothing in calling out his, and I therefore requested the officer to impose silence, and when it was obtained, I cried out, "Bob Cross! Bob Cross!! Where's Bob Cross?"

After that, I went to the small door at the side of the house, which led to the homestead, and again cried out, "Bob Cross!—where's Bob Cross?"

I then told the officer that we must wait patiently, and that if it was daylight before we got in, all the better.

About ten minutes after that, as I remained at the small door, I heard the bars quietly removed; I then requested the officer to attempt to force the small door, and it yielded almost immediately to their efforts.

"Now, sir, leave a guard at the other door, that they may not open it, and escape by it, also five or six hands to catch any who may jump out of the upper windows, and then enter with the rest of your party."

"You know what you are about, at all events," said he, giving the directions which I had pointed out, and then entering with the remainder of his party, with the exception of one marine that held me by the arm, with his bayonet drawn.

The scuffle within was very severe, and lasted for many minutes: at last, the armed force, although not so numerous, prevailed, and one by one, the men were brought out, and taken charge of by the marines, until the whole of them were discovered in their retreats, and secured.

Day now dawned, and it was time to be off. To make more secure, the pressed men were lashed two and two, with small rope, which had been provided on purpose. Bob Cross, who, of course, had not mixed in the affray, gave me a nod of recognition, and we set off as fast as the men could be persuaded to move; certainly not a very gay procession, for although the wounds were not dangerous, there was scarcely one of the party, amounting in all to upwards of sixty men, who was not bleeding. Hardly a word was exchanged. We were all put into the boats, and rowed off to the hulk appropriated to the crew of the frigate, until she was rigged, and as soon as we were on board, we were put below under the charge of sentries.

"What! you here?" said some of the pressed men.

"Yes," replied I: "they picked me up as I went to ship myself last night." The crimp, who had been brought on board with the others, then started forward. "It is he who has blown upon us; I'll swear to it."

"You may swear if you please," replied I; "that will do you no good, and me no harm."

The crimp talked with the other men, and then indignation was levelled against me. Most of them swore they would be even with me, and have my life if they could; indeed, they could hardly be prevented laying hands upon me; but Bob Cross told the sentry, and he interfered with his bayonet; notwithstanding which, fists continued to be shook in my face, and vengeance threatened every minute.