But now his time was come. A fresh antagonist, with equal weight of metal, was close to him, and he had to decide whether he would fight or run. Whether he conceived that running was useless, which it certainly was, or was determined to take us both or die, I know not, certain it is that he did not put his vessel before the wind, but waited with determination the coming up of the Arrow. Captain Levee passed under the Frenchman's stern, raking him with a broadside that almost unrigged him, and then engaged him to leeward, so as to cut off all chance of his escape.

The Frenchman returned the fire with spirit, and I took my men from my guns that we might set some sail upon the vessel, for after the Arrow commenced her fire no further notice was taken of me by the Frenchman. After a contest well maintained for half an hour, the mainmast of the Frenchman went by the board, and this almost settled the question, as he could not keep his vessel to the wind, and consequently she fell off, and received a raking fire from the Arrow. At last her bowsprit was between the main and fore rigging of the Arrow, and her decks were swept by the Arrow's raking fire. I had got some sail up forward, and was anxious to be at the close of the action. I perceived that the Frenchman was attempting to board the lugger, and was pouring all his people on the forecastle, and I therefore edged down to him that I might, with my people, board him on the quarter, which would place him, as we say, between two fires. The conflict was at its highest; the French attempting and the Arrow's crew repelling them, when I laid my schooner on her quarter, and leaped on board of her with my few remaining men. The Frenchmen turned to repel my attack, and thus weakened their party opposed to the Arrow's men; the consequence was, that they were first beaten back, and then boarded by Captain Levee and his crew.

As soon as I had gained the deck of the Frenchman, I thought of nothing but to single out the French captain. At first I could not see him, but as his crew retreated from Captain Levee and his men, I perceived him, pale and exhausted, but still attempting to rally them. As my object was to take him alive, I rushed in advance at him, wrestled, and threw him on his back on the deck. There I held him, while the combatants fighting and retreating, tumbled over us one after another, and bruised us severely with their weight. At last the French were beaten below, and I had time to breathe; calling to two of my men, I desired them to take charge of the French captain, and as they valued their lives, not to let him escape, or destroy himself, but to take him into our vessel and guard him carefully in my cabin. Having done this, I went to Captain Levee, and we embraced.

"You did not come a minute too soon," I said, wiping the blood from my face.

"No, indeed; and but for your clever manoeuvre, you would have been beaten. Your vessel is a mere nutshell compared to this;—you did well, more than well, to maintain the combat so long. Have you lost many men?"

"We had ten sent below before we boarded; what may have followed since I do not know. I have the French captain safe in my cabin."

"I saw the men hand him over:—well, now to repair damages, and then I will tell you what you shall do. I must send on board and help you; the Arrow has not suffered much considering, and I can spare the men. As soon as we have cleared up the decks a little, we will breakfast together, and talk the matter over."

It required two hours before we could clear the decks of our vessels, for we had separated, and the Arrow had taken charge of the prize. Before I took the boat to go on board the Arrow, I went down into my cabin, where the French captain lay bound and watched by two of the men.

"You are prepared to pay the penalty agreed upon, Monsieur?" said I.

"I am, Sir," he replied. "I now understand what you meant when you said that I should meet with my match. I have no one to blame but myself. I urged you to the conditions, expecting an easy and certain conquest with my superior vessel. I have fallen into my own net, and there's an end of the matter—except that when things go wrong, a woman is certain to be at the bottom of it."

"I am aware, Sir," I replied, "that your wife instigated you to act as you did, or you would never have so behaved. In attempting to revenge the death of one husband, she has lost two."

"C'est vrai," replied the Frenchman, composedly, and I then quitted the cabin, and went on board of the Arrow.

"Well, Elrington," said Captain Levee, "what do you intend to do with the French captain? Is he to pay the forfeit, and swing at the yard-arm?"

"I don't like hanging a man, especially a brave man, in cold blood," I replied. "It was all his wife's doing, and he has confessed as much."

"He would certainly have hanged you," replied Levee.

"Yes, that I believe; but it would have been that he might have a quiet life at home—not from any resentment against me. Now I have no feeling of that kind to actuate me."

"What will you do, then?"

"Not hang him, certainly; and yet I should like to punish her."

"She deserves it," replied Captain Levee. "Now, Elrington, will you approve of my suggestion?"

"Let me hear it."

"It is this: they do not know that I have assisted in taking the privateer, as they have no idea that I am here. As soon as we have refitted her and your vessel, I will remain where I am. You shall run into the mouth of the Garonne, with your colours flying, and the English Jack over the French flag on board of the prize. This will lead them to suppose that you have taken the vessel without assistance. When just out of gun-shot, heave-to, fire a gun, and then swing an effigy to the yard-arm, and remain there, to make them suppose that you have hung the French captain. At nightfall you can make sail and rejoin me. That will punish her, and annoy them generally."

"I will do so; it is an excellent device, and she will never know the truth for a long time to come."

We remained all that day refitting; in the evening I made sail, in company with the French schooner, which was manned by Captain Levee, and stood in shore. At break of the following day I ran in, standing for the harbour, without my colours being hoisted, and then it occurred to me that I would make their disappointment greater, by allowing them first to imagine that the victory was theirs; so, when about six miles off, I hoisted French colours on the French schooner, and French colours over English on board of my own.

I continued to stand on till within two miles and a half of the batteries, and could see crowds flocking down to witness the supposed triumphant arrival of their privateer into port; when of a sudden I hauled my wind, hove-to, brailed up my sails, and changed the colours, firing a gun in bravado. Allowing them half an hour to comment upon this disappointment, I then fired another gun, and hoisted up to the yard-arm the figure of a man, composed of clothes stuffed with hay, made to represent the French captain; and having so done, I remained during the whole forenoon, with my sails brailed up, that they might have a clear view of the hanging figure. At last we perceived a large boat, with a flag of truce coming out of the river. I remained where I was, and allowing it to come alongside, I perceived in it the French officer, who had pledged himself to give the conditions of the combat to the lady; and seated by him was the French captain's wife, with her head sunk down on her knees, and her face buried in her handkerchief.

I saluted the officer as he came on the deck. He returned my bow, and then said, "Sir, the fortune of war has proved in your favour, and I perceive that the conditions of the issue of the combat have been adhered to on your side. Against that I have not a word to say, as my friend would have as rigidly adhered to them. But, Sir, we war not with the dead, and I have come off at the request of his miserable wife, to beg that you will, now that your revenge is satisfied, deliver up to her her husband's body, that it may receive the rites of the Church, and Christian burial. You surely, as a brave man, will not deny this small favour to a woman whom you have twice deprived of her husband?"

"Sir," I replied, "on condition that his lady will step on board and make the request herself, I will comply with it, but on no other terms."

"It will be most painful, and her feelings might well have been spared such a trial as to meet your face again, and make the request in person; but as you insist upon it, I will make known your terms."

As he went into his boat I ran down into the cabin, and desired them to cast loose the French captain, saying to him, "Sir, your wife is here requesting your body, which she believes to be swinging at the yard-arm, for I have put that trick into execution to punish her. I never intended to take your life, and I shall now do more, I shall give you not only life, but liberty—such shall be my revenge."

The French captain stared as if confounded, but made no reply. I then went on deck, where I found the lady had been lifted up the side. They led her to me, and she fell on her knees, but the effort was too much for her, and she fainted away. I ordered her to be taken down into the cabin, and, without any explanation, desired the French officer to accompany her, not wishing to be present at the unexpected meeting. I therefore remained on deck, and ordering the men to lower down the effigy, they did so, laughing at the French seamen in the boat, who for the first time perceived, for they had not looked up before, that it was only a sham captain. I looked over the side, and told them that the captain was alive and well, and would be in the boat very soon, at which they were greatly rejoiced. In the mean time the explanation took place in the cabin, and after a few minutes the French officer came up, and expressed his satisfaction at what I had done.

"You have given a lesson, Sir, without being guilty of barbarity. Your conduct has been noble."

He was soon followed by the French captain and his lady, who was now all gratitude, and would have kissed my hands, but I prevented her, and said, "Madam, at least now you have no occasion to hate me. If I was so unfortunate, in self-defence, as to slay your first husband, I have restored to you your second. Let us, then, part in amity."

The French captain squeezed my hand, but said nothing. I begged they would take some refreshment, but they were too anxious to return and undeceive their friends, and requested permission to go into the boat. Of course I consented, and as the boat pulled away, the crew gave three huzzas, as a compliment to us. When they were a mile in shore, I hauled down the colours of both vessels, and made sail out to rejoin Captain Levee, which I did in the evening, and then related all that had passed.

He was much pleased with the result of the affair, and we then, having consulted, considered it advisable to run back to Liverpool with the prize, for she required so many hands to man her as to render us by no means efficient vessels. Moreover, I have omitted to state that while I was in the Garonne, the Arrow had taken two good prizes, which she had manned and sent to Liverpool. We therefore made sail to the northward, and in a week were again in port, with our prize. We found that the other vessels had arrived safe, and the owner was much pleased with the results of this short and eventful cruise.



CHAPTER XI.

I cause myself to be dismissed from my Owner's Service—Am arrested—Conveyed to London, and confined in the Tower—Am visited by a Romish Priest, and through his interference obtain my Liberation—Set off to Liverpool, and find my Owner and Captain Levee—Their surprise—Miss Trevannion.

When I called upon our owner, which I did as soon as I had dropped my anchor and furled sails, he embraced me, and then led me into the back room next to his counting-house.

"My dear Elrington," said he, "well as you managed to get off the Jacobite gentlemen, there is a strong suspicion on the part of the government, that they were on board of your vessel, and that I was a party to their escape. Whether they will take any measures now that you have returned, I know not; they may have gained some intelligence, or they may worm out something, by their emissaries, from those who compose your crew, and if so, we must expect their vengeance. Now tell me where you landed them, and all the events of your cruise, for I have heard but little from those who brought in the prizes taken by the Arrow. Captain Levee is too busy with his own vessel and the prize to come on shore for these two hours, and I wish to talk with you alone upon this affair."

After I had narrated all that had passed, and the manner in which the French privateer had been captured, the owner said—

"If the government spies, and there are plenty of them about, find out from your crew that you landed passengers at Bordeaux, depend upon it you will be arrested and examined, without you get out of the way till the affair has blown over. Now, the men will narrate in the taverns the curious history of this French privateer, and in so doing cannot fail to state that you were on shore in France. Now, Elrington, you have run the risk to oblige me, and I must keep you out of difficulty; and, if you feel inclined to hide yourself for a time, I will of course pay all your expenses."

"No," I replied; "if they find out what has taken place, and wish to get hold of me in consequence, I think it will be better to brave it out. If I hide away, it will make them more anxious to have me, and will confirm their suspicions that I am what they are pleased to call a traitor; a reward will be offered for my apprehension, and at any time that I do appear, the reward will cause me to be taken up. If, on the contrary, I brave it out, and if I am asked, say at once that I did land passengers, at all events they will not make it high treason; so, with your leave, I will stay. I hardly need say that I shall take the whole responsibility on myself, and declare that I took them on board without your knowledge; that you may rest assured of."

"On consideration, I think that your plan is the best," replied my owner. "I am grateful for your offer of screening me, which I would not permit, were it not that I shall be useful to you if any mischance takes place, and, if in prison, could be of no service."

"Then, Sir," I replied, "the wisest course will be for you at once to dismiss me from the command of the privateer, in consequence of your having been informed that I carried passengers and landed them in France. That step will prove you a friend to the government, and will enable you, after a time, to get me out of my scrape more effectually."

"You are sacrificing yourself, Elrington, and all for me."

"Not so, Sir. I am only securing a friend in case of need."

"That you certainly are," replied my owner, squeezing my hand. "Well, it will be the best plan even for you, and so let it be."

"Then I will now return on board, and tell the officers that I am dismissed. There is no time to be lost; and here comes Captain Levee; so for the present, Sir, farewell."

On my return on board, I called up the officers and men, and told them that I had offended the owner, and that he had dismissed me from the command of the privateer. One of the officers inquired what I had done; and I said, before the men, that it was for landing the passengers in France. They all condoled with me, and expressed their sorrow at my leaving them, and I believe that they were sincere. It was fortunate that I did as I had done, for I found that the government emissaries were on board at the time that I made the communication, and had already gained the information from some of my crew. I ordered my chest and bedding to be put into the boat, and as soon as they were ready, I gave up the command to the first officer, and bidding them all farewell, went down the side, and pulled on shore, repairing to my former lodgings.

I had not been there two hours before I was arrested and taken to prison. I was, however, very comfortably lodged, because I was a state prisoner, and I presume that more respect is paid to a man when he is to be drawn and quartered, and his head set above the Tower gates, then a petty malefactor. The next day I was summoned before what was called the Commission, and asked whether I had not landed some people in France? I replied immediately that I had done so.

"Who were they?" was the next inquiry.

"They stated themselves to be Roman Catholic priests," replied I, "and such I believed them to be."

"Why did I do so?"

"Because, in the first place, they paid me one hundred guineas each; and, in the second, because I considered them mischievous, dangerous men, conspiring against the government, and that the sooner they were out of the country the better."

"How did I know that they were traitors?"

"All Roman priests were traitors in my opinion, and I hated them as bad as I did the French, but it is difficult to deal with a priest, and I thought that I was performing a good service in ridding the country of them."

"Who else was privy to the affair?"

"No one; I had made the arrangement with them myself, and not an officer or man on board knew any thing about it."

"But my owner, Mr. Trevannion, was he a party to it?"

"No, he was not; and on my return he dismissed me from the command of the privateer, as soon as he found out that I had landed the priests in France."

A great many more questions were put to me, all of which I answered very cautiously, yet without apparent hesitation; and after an examination of four hours, the president of the Commission told me that I had been, by my own acknowledgment, aiding and abetting the escape of malignant traitors, and prevented them meeting their just fate on the scaffold. That, in so doing, I had been guilty of treason, and must abide the sentence of the supreme Commission in London, whither I should be sent the following day. I replied that I was a loyal subject; that I hated the French and Romish plotters, and that I had done what I considered was best; that if I had done wrong, it was only an error in judgment; and any one that said I was a traitor, lied in his throat.

My reply was taken down, and I was sent back to prison.

The following afternoon the gaoler came into my room accompanied by two persons, one of whom informed me that I was delivered over to their custody to be taken to London. I was led out, and at the door I found three horses, upon one of which I was desired to mount. As soon as I was in the saddle, a rope was passed from one leg to the other under the horse's belly, so as to prevent my escape; and my horse was led between the other two, upon which my keepers rode, each having a hand-rein made fast from my horse's bridle to his own. A crowd was assembled round the entrance of the gaol, and among the lookers-on I perceived Captain Levee and my owner; but of course I thought it imprudent to take any notice of them, and they did not make any recognition of me.

I hardly need say, my dear Madam, how very revolting it was to my feelings to be thus led away like a felon; but at the same time I must acknowledge the courtesy of my conductors, who apologized for being compelled to take such measures of security, and on the way showed great kindness and good-feeling.

Every thing being arranged, we proceeded on our journey; but it was late when we set off, owing to one of my conductors being sent for by the commissioner, and having to wait for letters for nearly three hours. As it may be supposed, we could not travel at speed, and we seldom went faster than a walk, which I was sorry for, as I was anxious that the journey should be over, and my fate decided as soon as possible.

Almost an hour after dark, a party of men rushed from the side of the road, and some seizing the bridles of the horses, the others threw the two conductors off their saddles by taking them by the leg and heaving them over on the other side. This was done so quickly, that the two men, who were well armed, had not time to draw out a pistol or any other weapon of defence; and as soon as they were on the ground, they were immediately seized and overpowered. The faces of the men who had thus assailed the king's officers were blackened so as to disguise them, but from their voices I knew them to be the men and officers of the privateer. "Now then, Captain Elrington," said one of them, "be off with you as fast as possible, and we will take care of these fellows."

I still remained in my saddle, and although somewhat flurried with the surprise of the attack, I had had time to recover myself, and had decided upon my mode of behaviour. I felt as I had said to the owner when we consulted together, that an escape now would be only putting off the evil day, and that it was better to meet the case boldly at once; so I rose in my stirrups, and said to the men in a loud voice, "My good fellows, I am much obliged to you for your exertions in my behalf, as it proves your good-will, but I cannot and will not take advantage of them. By some mistake I am accused of being a traitor, when I feel that I am a true and loyal subject, which I have no doubt will be fully established upon my arrival in London. I cannot, therefore, take advantage of this opportunity to escape. I respect the laws of my country, and I beg you to do the same. Oblige me by releasing the two gentlemen whom you have made your prisoners, and assist them to remount their horses, for I am resolved that I will go to London and be honourably acquitted. Once more, my lads, many thanks for your kind intentions; and now I wish you farewell, and if you would do me a great favour, you will disperse peaceably, and leave us to proceed on our journey."

The men perceived that I was in earnest, and therefore did as I requested, and in another minute I was again alone with my two keepers.

"You have behaved honourably, Sir, and perhaps wisely," observed one of my conductors, as he was about to remount his horse. "I will not ask you who those people were, although I have no doubt but you recognized them yourself."

"No," I replied, "I did not. I guessed from whence they came, but I did not recognize any one individual."

I gave this cautious answer, although I had recognized Captain Levee and one of my own officers.

"Well, Captain Elrington, you have proved to us that you may be trusted, and therefore, on your pledging your word that you will not escape, we shall have a great pleasure in removing all unpleasant precautions."

"I certainly have proved that I would not escape, and will readily give you my assurance that I will not alter my mind."

"That is sufficient, Sir," replied the officer; and he then cut away the rope which bound my legs, and also look off the two leading reins attached to the other horses. "We shall now," he said, "proceed not only more pleasantly, but more rapidly."

My conductors then mounted their horses, and we set off at a good trot, and in an hour arrived at the place where we were to put up for the night. We found supper prepared for us, and good beds. My conductors now left me free of all restraint, and we retired to our beds. The next day we continued our journey in the same manner. My companions were pleasant and gentlemen-like men, and we discoursed freely upon every topic; no one could have imagined that I was a state prisoner.

We arrived at London on the fifth day, and I was then delivered over to the keeper of the Tower, according to the instructions that my conductors had received. They bade me farewell, and promised that they would not fail to represent my conduct to the authorities, and gave me hopes of a speedy release. I had the same idea, and took possession of the apartments prepared for me (which were airy and well ventilated) with almost cheerfulness.

On the third day after my arrival a Commission was sent to the Tower to examine me, and I gave the same replies as before. They were very particular in obtaining the descriptions of the persons of those whom I had landed in France, and I answered without disguise. I afterwards found out that I had done a very foolish thing. Had I misrepresented their persons, it would have been supposed that they really were four Catholic priests, but from my exact description, they discovered that I had rescued the four traitors (as they termed them) that they were most anxious to secure and make an example of; and their annoyance at this discovery had so angered them against me, that my subsequent conduct could not create any feeling favourable towards me.

Three weeks elapsed, and I was wearied of confinement. My gaoler told me that he feared my case was a bad one; and after another week had passed, he said that I was condemned as aiding and abetting treason. I must say that I little expected this result, and it quite overthrew me. I asked my gaoler what was his authority. He said that so many people had assisted and effected the escape of the rebels without one having been convicted of having so done except myself, on my own avowal, that they deemed it absolutely necessary that an example should be made, to deter others from aiding those who were still secreted in the country; and that in consequence it had been decided by the Privy Council that I should be made an example of. He told me much more which I need not repeat, except that it proved the malignant feeling that was indulged by the powers in authority against those who had assisted their defeated opponents, and I felt that I had no chance, and prepared my mind to meet my fate.

Alas, my dear Madam, I was but ill-prepared to die,—not that I feared death, but I feared what must be my condition after death. I had lived a reckless, lawless life, without fear of God or man; all the religious feelings which had been instilled into me by my good tutor (you know my family history, and I need say no more) during my youth, had been gradually sapped away by the loose companionship which I had held since the time that I quitted my father's house; and when I heard that I was to die, my mind was in a state of great disquiet and uncomfortable feeling. I wished to review my life, and examine myself, but I hardly knew where to begin.

All was chaos and confusion. I could remember many bad actions, but few good ones. I felt that I was like a vessel without a rudder, and without a pilot; and after hours and hours of deep thought, I would give up the task of examination in stern despair, saying to myself, "Well, if it must be so, it must." I felt an inclination to defy that Heaven which I felt would never be opened to me. This was the case for more than a week after I heard of my condemnation, until I began to reflect upon the nature of our creed, and the terms of salvation which were offered; and, as I thought over them, I felt a dawn of hope, and I requested the gaoler to furnish me with a Bible. I read it day and night, for I expected every morning to be summoned to execution. I felt almost agony at times, lest such should be the case; but time passed on, and another fortnight elapsed, during which I had profited by my reading, and felt some contrition for my many offences, and my life of guilt, and I also felt that I could be saved through the merits of Him who died for the whole world. Day after day my faith became more lively, and my mind more at ease. One morning the gaoler came to me, and said that there was a priest who wished to see me. As I understood he was a Roman, I was about to refuse; but on consideration, I thought otherwise, and he was admitted. He was a tall, spare man, with a dark Spanish countenance.

"You are, I believe," said he, "Captain Elrington, who effected the escape of some of our poor friends, and who are now condemned for your kind act?"

"I am, Sir," replied I.

"I am aware," said he, "that your profession of faith is not mine, and do not, therefore, come to talk with you on serious points, without you should wish it yourself; my object is, being indebted as we are to you for saving our friends, to offer to be of any use that I can to you, in executing any wishes, or delivering any messages, which you may wish to give, should you suffer for your generous conduct, and you may trust any thing to me with safety, that I swear to you;" and he took a crucifix from the folds of his garment, and kissed it, as he said so.

"I thank you for your kind offer, Sir," replied I, "but I have nothing to trouble you with. I have long quitted my family, who know not whether I am alive or dead, for reasons that I need not explain. I am under an assumed name, and it is my intention to suffer under that name, that my family may not be disgraced by my ignominious death, or be aware that I have perished on the scaffold."

"Perhaps you are right," replied the priest; "but let us talk upon another point; have you no friends that could exert themselves in your favour so as to procure your pardon and release?"

"None," replied I, "except those who, I am sure, are exerting themselves to the utmost of their power, and to whom no message from me is necessary."

"Do you know nobody at court," said the priest, "no person of rank in the government—or I may say opposed to the government—for people now-a-days are not what they seem or pretend to be?"

"I have no knowledge of any titled person," replied I; "when I parted with one of the gentlemen whom I landed at Bordeaux, he gave me the name of a lady of quality at Paris, desiring me, if in difficulty, to apply to him through her; but that was, if in difficulty in France; of course, she could do nothing for me in this country."

"Have you the name of the lady?"

"Yes," replied I; "it is on the first leaf of my pocket-book. Here it is."

The priest read the name, and then said—

"You must write immediately a few words, acquainting her with your position. I will see the letter safely delivered before the week is over."

"What good can she possibly do me?" replied I.

"I cannot say; but this I know, that if any thing is to be done, it will be. Write immediately."

The priest called the gaoler, and requested writing materials, which were brought, and in a few minutes I had done as he requested.

"There, Sir, I have written to please you; but I candidly state that I consider it a useless attempt."

"Were I of your opinion, I should not have advised you to write," replied he. "There are wheels within wheels that you have no conception of, in these troubled times. What I most fear is, that it may arrive too late."

The priest took his leave of me, and I was left to my own thoughts. When I considered that the address of this lady had been given to me by the very man whom they were so anxious to secure as a traitor, I at once decided that no benefit could arrive from any interference on her part; and I therefore, after a quarter of an hour, dismissed the whole subject from my thoughts, and commenced my reading of the sacred writings. The following morning, when the gaoler came in, I could not help observing to him, that as I had been condemned so many days, I felt much surprise at the delay of my execution. His reply was, that he heard that others were in custody upon the same charge, and that they waited for their convictions that we might all suffer at the same time; for the order for my execution had come on the Friday last, but had been countermanded on the afternoon of the same day. Although this satisfied me that I had no hopes of escape, yet I was pleased that I had obtained more time for preparation, and I renewed my reading with ardour. Another week passed, when the gaoler, with a solemn face, and much apparent concern, came in, and informed me that the other parties arrested had been tried before the Commission, and had been condemned, and that it was expected that the execution would take place either on the morrow or the day after. The announcement did not affect me much. I had made up my mind that I should suffer, and had to a degree weaned myself from life. I considered how all hopes of my ever enjoying the delight of family and kindred ties had flown away, and I looked with disgust upon my career as a privateer's-man—a career of recklessness and blood, so denounced by the sacred writings which I had before me. I reflected that if I were to leave the prison, I should have no other means of sustenance, and should probably return to my former life, and load my soul with a still heavier weight of crime, and, although I felt an occasional bitter pang at the idea of leaving the world so young—a world which I could not hate—still I was, after a few hours' communing and reflection, resigned to my fate, and exclaimed with sincerity, "Thy will be done." I think, Madam, you may have observed that, sinful as I was, my whole career proved that I was not a hardened sinner. Good was not driven entirely out of me, but was latent, notwithstanding all my excesses, and the bad company which had influenced me.

I now prayed, and prayed earnestly, and I thought that my prayers were heard. Such was my state of mind on the day before the one appointed for my execution, when the gaoler and one of the sheriff's officers came into my cell, accompanied by the Roman Catholic priest whom I have before mentioned. I perceived by the countenance of the gaoler, who was a humane man, that he had no unpleasant news. The sheriff's officer delivered to him an order for my liberation, and to my astonishment I was told by the gaoler that my pardon was signed, and that I was free. I was stupified with the intelligence, and I stood without making any reply. The priest waved his hand to them as a hint to leave the room, which they both did. As they left, my eyes followed them, and then I cast them down upon the Bible which lay before me on the table, and slipping down from the bench upon my knees, I covered up my face and prayed. My prayers were confused—I hardly knew what I said—but I knew that they were intended to be grateful to Heaven for my unexpected preservation from an ignominious death. After a time, I rose up, and perceived the priest, whose presence I had till then forgotten. He had been kneeling at the other side of the table praying with me, and I am sure for me—and he was rising up just after I had.

"I trust, Captain Elrington," said he, after a pause, "that the peril you have been in will influence your future life; and that this severe trial will not be thrown away upon you."

"I trust not, Sir," replied I. "I feel that it has been good for me to have been afflicted. I believe that I have been indebted to your exertions for my deliverance."

"No further than having seen your letter duly and speedily delivered. I could do no more, for with all will, I have no power; and that was little to do for one who so generously assisted our friends in their distress."

"Am I then to believe that I am indebted to the interest of a French lady, residing at the court of Versailles, for my deliverance?"

"Even so—this may appear strange to you, Captain Elrington, but such is the case. Understand, that in these troubled times, the ruling monarch of this country cannot distinguish his friends from his enemies. He can only trust to professions, and they are not always sincere. There are many in the council at this time, who, if the Pretender, as he is called, had succeeded, would long before this have joined him, and who had wished him success, although they dared not venture to assist him. The interest of the lady in question with these people has prevailed over the true adherents of the Hanoverian king, and thus through this lady have you obtained your release. I state this to you in confidence; to publish what I have told you would be to betray your friends. Can I be of any further service to you? for you can leave your prison as soon as you please."

"None, I thank you, good Sir," replied I; "I have money more than sufficient to reward my gaoler, and to defray my expenses to Liverpool."

"You have my best thanks and sincere wishes for your happiness. Then I will not intrude upon you any more, except to give you my address in case of need. You have made warm friends by your conduct, and if you ever require their assistance, it will not be withheld."

The priest gave his address upon a piece of paper, and then came to me.

"Our creeds are not exactly the same, but you will not, my son, refuse my blessing?" said he, putting his hand upon my head.

"Oh, no," said I, dropping on my knees, "I receive it all in thankfulness."

"May God bless you, my son," said he, with emotion—and he then quitted the cell.

What with the previous excitement when my liberation was announced, and the parting with the kind priest, my feelings were so powerful, that, as soon as I was alone, I gave vent to them in a flood of tears. As soon as I was more composed, I rose from the bench, put my necessaries into my valise, and summoned the gaoler, to whom I made a handsome present, thanking him for his kindness during my incarceration. I then shook hands with him, fee'd the turnkey who had attended upon me, and in a minute more I was clear of the Tower gates. How my heart heaved when I was once more in the open air.

I looked around me, and perceived that many men were busy in erecting a scaffolding. My heart sank as I beheld them, as I felt certain what it was for; but to verify my opinion, I turned to an old woman who had a sort of stall from which she dispensed mead to the populace, and inquired of her for what the scaffold was being erected.

"It's for the men who are to be executed to-morrow for aiding the Jacobites to escape," said she. "Won't your worship take a glass of mead this morning?"

"I am not thirsty," I replied, as I walked hastily away with my valise upon my shoulders.

A stranger to this part of London, I hardly knew where to direct my steps; I walked past the square before the Tower, until I came into a street called Catherine-street, where a tavern met my view, and into it I entered immediately, glad, as it were, to hide myself, for I felt as if all the world looked upon me as a person just discharged from prison. I obtained good entertainment there, and slept there that night. The next morning, the host having provided me two good horses, and a youngster to take them back, I set off for Liverpool, and after five days' travel without adventure, I arrived at the town, and proceeded direct to the house of Mr. Trevannion, my owner. I took my valise off the boy's horse, and having paid him for his attendance, I knocked at the door, for it was late in the evening, and dark, when I arrived. The door (for it was at his private house door, which was next to the counting-house door, that I knocked) was opened; and the woman who opened it shrieked, and let drop the candle, exclaiming, "Help, oh God—a ghost, a ghost!" for it appeared that the news had arrived at Liverpool from a messenger who had been sent express after I had been condemned, stating that there was no hope, and that I was to suffer on the Monday previous; and this was the Saturday evening on which I had arrived. Mr. Trevannion's clerk hearing a noise in the passage, came out with another candle, and seeing me, and the woman lying on the floor in a swoon, stared, staggered to the door of the room where his master was sitting, and the door being a-jar, he fell back with great force into the room, dropping under the table between Mr. Trevannion and Captain Levee, who was sitting with him, smoking, as was very often their wont. This brought out Captain Levee with one of the table-candlesticks, who, upon seeing me, ran to me, and embracing me warmly, cried out, as the clerk made his escape—

"Here is Elrington alive and well, Sir!"

At this announcement Mr. Trevannion came out, and threw himself into my arms, saying—

"I thank God for all his mercies, but above all, that I have not been the cause of your death, my dear Elrington. Come in," he exclaimed, in a faultering voice; and as soon as he gained his seat, he laid his head down and sobbed with excitement and joy.

I followed Captain Levee into the room, and was taking a chair, when I perceived there was another person present besides Captain Levee and Mr. Trevannion, which was the daughter of the latter; that is, I presumed as much, for I knew that he was a widower, and had one daughter living, out of a family of three children. She appeared to be about seventeen years of age, and had just come from a Protestant convent, as they called establishments where young women were educated at Chester. Mr. Trevannion was still with his face covered, and not yet recovered from his burst of feeling, when this young gentlewoman came up to me, and said—

"Captain Elrington, you have behaved nobly to my father; accept my hand and my friendship."

I was so dazzled from coming out of the dark, and so excited from what had just passed, that I was almost bewildered; but I accepted the offered hand, and bowed over it, although I declare that at the time I could not distinguish her features, although I perceived that her person was slight and elegant. As she retreated to her seat, Mr. Trevannion, who had recovered from his emotion, said—

"I thought that, at this moment, your head was exhibited over the gates of Temple-bar. The idea, as Captain Levee will tell you, has haunted me; for I felt, and should always have felt, that I was the cause of your death. God bless you, my dear Sir, and may I have an opportunity of showing you my gratitude and regard for your noble conduct towards me, and the sacrifice which you would have made. You need not tell me, for I know too well, that you took all the onus and blame of the affair upon your own shoulders, and preferred death to impeaching me."

"My dear Elrington," said Captain Levee, "I told our crew, and you have proved me a true prophet, that you never would peach, but die game. We were talking of you, supposing you dead, when you came in. I must tell you, that more than once Mr. Trevannion had made up his mind to deliver himself up, and acknowledge the truth, but I prevented him, as it would have been a useless sacrifice."

"You did; but, nevertheless, it was so heavy on my conscience, that had it not been for your perseverance, and the thoughts of leaving my poor girl here an orphan in the world, I certainly should have so done, for I felt life to be a burden."

"I am very glad that you did not, Sir," I replied; "my life is of little value; I have no one to support, no one to love, and no one to lament me if I fall. A shot from the enemy may soon send me out of the world, and there will only be a man the less in it, as far as people are interested about me."

"That is not the case now, at all events," replied Mr. Trevannion; "but pray, tell us how it is that you have escaped."

"I have not escaped," I replied; "here is my pardon, with the sign-manual."

"And how was it obtained?" exclaimed Captain Levee; "all intercession made through some of the strongest friends of the government was in vain, that I can assert; for you must not suppose that we have been idle down here. We did not leave London till after you were condemned, and every entreaty to see you, or to communicate by letter, was denied to us."

"I had better, then, begin at the beginning, and state all that occurred. I will first thank you, my dear Levee, for your kind assistance, which I would not avail myself of, as I calculated (wrongly I own) that it would be wiser to remain a prisoner; and I considered that my very refusal to escape would be admitted by the government as a proof of my innocence. I did not know that I had to deal with such malignant people."

I then commenced my narrative, which occupied the remainder of the evening, and, having received their congratulations, we had a pipe or two, and, as I was fatigued, we retired to bed. I slept little on this, I may say, first night of rest and quiet, after my liberation. I was happy, and yet perplexed. During the time of my imprisonment, it had occurred to me that the life of a privateer's-man was not one which I could follow up with a good conscience; and I had, on my journey down to Liverpool, made up my mind that I would give it up. I knew this might annoy Mr. Trevannion, and that I should have to meet with the ridicule of Captain Levee, and I was thinking whether it were possible, in the first place, that I could give some well-grounded excuse; and, in the next, what other means of gaining my livelihood I could substitute in its stead. My restlessness induced me to get up earlier than usual, and I went out for an hour's walk upon the wharfs. I saw my little schooner riding on the stream, and, as she gently rose, and dipped to the swell which ran in with the tide, she looked so beautiful that my resolutions were already giving way. I would look at her no longer; so I turned from the river, and walked back to the owner's house. It was still early when I went into the eating-hall, where I found Miss Trevannion alone.



CHAPTER XII.

I state my newly-awakened scruples as to the lawfulness of a Privateer's-man's Life to Mr. Trevannion, but nevertheless undertake another Cruise—Save a Youth from drowning, who he proves to be—Conflict with a French Privateer—Take her and deliver a Prize—Return to Liverpool—Resign the Command of the Sparrow-Hawk, and agree to superintend Mr. Trevannion's Business.

Miss Trevannion, my dear Madam, was taller than your sex usually are, her figure slight, and still unformed to a certain degree, but promising perfection. Her hair was very dark, her features regular and handsome, her complexion very pale, and her skin fair as the snow. As she stood in silence, she reminded you of a classical antique statue, and hardly appeared to breathe through her delicate lips, but when she was animated with conversation, it almost reminded you of the Promethean fire which poets state was stolen from Heaven to animate a piece of marble. Then the colour came in her cheeks, intelligence played on her countenance, and every thing which at first sight appeared wanting, was, like magic, found to light up her face. Her smiles were the sweetest I ever beheld, and one of those smiles she bestowed upon me as I entered the room and paid her my obeisance. The night before, I had not observed her much, I was too busy with her father and Captain Levee, and she sat remote from the table and distant from the light, and she never spoke but when she took my hand and thanked me, as I mentioned before. I thought then that her voice was like a silver bell, but made no other remark upon her. We had, however, exchanged but few words before her father came in, accompanied by Captain Levee, and we sat down to our morning's repast of chocolate.

After we had broken our fast, Captain Levee hastened away on board of his vessel. My imprisonment had detained him from sailing, and Mr. Trevannion was anxious that he should be off as soon as possible to make up for lost time, as the expenses of the vessel were heavy.

"Farewell, Elrington, for the present," said he; "I shall come to you on board of your schooner some time during the day." When Captain Levee was gone—for, to tell the truth, I was afraid of his ridicule—I thought it a good opportunity to give my thoughts to my owner, and as I had nothing to say, which his daughter might not hear, I began as follows:

"Mr. Trevannion, I think it right to state to you that during my imprisonment a great change has come over my feelings upon certain points. I am not ashamed to acknowledge that it has been occasioned by the death which stared me in the face, and from my having seriously communed with myself, and examined, more than I perhaps have done during the whole of my former life, the sacred writings which are given us as our guide. The point to which I refer is, that I have come to a conviction that privateering is not a lawful or honourable profession, and with these feelings I should wish to resign the command of the schooner which you have had the kindness to give me."

"Indeed, Elrington," replied Mr. Trevannion. "Well, I should not have thought to have heard this from you I confess. Much as I respect your scruples, you are too scrupulous. I can hardly imagine that you have turned to the sect of the Quakers, and think fighting is contrary to the Scriptures."

"No, Sir, not so far as that. I consider war, as a profession, both necessary and honourable, and a nation is bound to be prepared for any foreign attack, and to act upon the defensive, or on the offensive, if it is necessary. It is not that. I do not consider the soldier who fights for his country is not doing his duty, nor the seamen who are employed by the state are not equally justified in their profession. What I refer to is privateering. That is, vessels fitted out for the purpose of aggression by private merchants, and merely for the sake of profit. They are not fitted out with any patriotic motives, but merely for gain. They are speculations in which the lives of people on both sides are sacrificed for the sake of lucre—and had you witnessed such scenes of bloodshed and cruelty as I have during my career, such dreadful passions let loose, and defying all restraint, you would agree with me, that he who leads such miscreants to their quarry has much to answer for. Were it possible to control the men on board of a privateer as the men are controlled in the king's service, it might be more excusable; but manned as privateers always will be, with the most reckless characters, when once they are roused by opposition, stimulated by the sight of plunder, or drunken with victory, no power on earth can restrain their barbarity and vengeance, and a captain of a privateer who attempted, would, in most cases, if he stood between them and their will, unless he were supported, fall a victim to his rashness. All this I have seen; and all I now express I have long felt, even when younger and more thoughtless. You know that I did give up privateering at one time, because I was shocked at the excesses to which I was a party. Since that, I have accepted the command of a vessel, for the idea of being captain was too flattering to my vanity to permit me to refuse; but reflection has again decided me not to engage in it further. I hope this communication will not displease you, Mr. Trevannion. If I am wrong in my opinion, at all events I am sincere, for I am giving up my only source of livelihood from a sense of duty."

"I know that you are sincere, Elrington," replied Mr. Trevannion, "but at the same time I think that you are much too strait-laced in your opinions. When nations are at war, they mutually do all the mischief that they can to each other, and I cannot see what difference there is between my fitting out a privateer under the king's authority, or the king having vessels and men for the national service. The government fit out all the vessels that they can, and when their own funds are exhausted, they encourage individuals to employ their capital in adding to the means of distressing the enemy. If I had property on the high seas, would it be respected any more than other English property by the enemy? Certainly not; and, therefore, I am not bound to respect theirs. The end of war is to obtain an honourable peace; and the more the enemy is distressed, the sooner are you likely to obtain one. I do not, therefore, consider that privateering is worse than any other species of warfare, or that the privateer's-man is a whit more reckless or brutal than soldiers or men-of-war's men in the hour of victory in the king's service."

"There is this difference, Sir," replied I; "first, in the officers commanding; although glad to obtain prize-money, they are stimulated by nobler feelings as well. They look to honour and distinction; they have the feeling that they are defending their king and country, to support them and throw a halo on their exertions; and they have such control over their men, that, although I admit they are equally inclined to excess as the privateer's-man, they are held in check by the authority which they dare not resist. Now, Mr. Trevannion, privateer's-men seek not honour, and are not stimulated by a desire to serve the country; all they look to is how to obtain the property of others under sanction; and could they without any risk do so, they would care little whether it was English property or not, provided that they put the money into their pockets. If I held this opinion as a seaman on board of a privateer, what must I feel now, when I am the leader of such people, and the responsibility of their acts is thrown upon my shoulders, for such I feel is the case?"

"I think," replied Mr. Trevannion, "that we had better not discuss this question any further just now. Of course you must decide for yourself; but I have this favour to ask of you. Trusting to your resuming the command of the vessel, I have no one to replace you at present, and I hope you will not refuse to take the command of her for one more cruise: should you, on your return and on mature reflection, be of the same opinion as you are now, I certainly shall no longer press you to remain, and will do all I can to assist you in any other views you may have."

"To that, Sir, I can have no objection," replied I; "it would be unfair of me to leave you without a captain to the vessel, and I am therefore ready to sail in her as soon as you please, upon the understanding that I may quit her, if I am of the same opinion as I am now, upon my return to port."

"I thank you, my dear Sir," said Mr. Trevannion, rising, "that is all I request. I must now go to the counting-house."

So saying, he left the room, but his countenance showed that he was far from pleased.

Miss Trevannion, who had been a silent listener to the conversation, as soon as her father had closed the door after him, thus spoke:

"Captain Elrington, the opinion of a young maiden like me can be of little value, but you know not how much pleasure you have given me by the sentiments you have expressed. Alas! that a man so good, so generous, and so feeling in every other respect, should be led away by the desire of gain, to be the owner of such a description of property. But in this town, wealth is every thing; the way by which it is obtained is not thought of. My father's father left him a large property in vessels employed wholly in the slave-trade, and it was through the persuasions of my poor mother, that my father was induced to give up that nefarious traffic. Since that, his capital has been chiefly employed in privateering, which, if not so brutal and disgraceful, is certainly nearly as demoralizing. I have been home but a short time, and I have already ventured to express my opinion, certainly not so forcibly and so well as you have, upon the subject; but I was laughed at as a tender-hearted girl, who could not be a fit judge of such matters. But now that you, a captain of one of his vessels, have expressed your dislike to the profession, I think some good may arise. If my father were a poor man, it would be more excusable, if excuse there can be, but such is not the case. He is wealthy, and to whom has he to leave his wealth but to me, his only child? Captain Elrington, you are right—be firm—my father's obligations to you are very great, and your opinion will have its influence. I am his daughter—his only daughter—his love for me is great, I know, and I also have my power over him. Supported as I have been by you, I will now exert it to the utmost to persuade him to retire from further employment of his means in such a speculation. I thanked you yesterday, when I first saw you, for your noble behaviour, I little thought that I should have again, in so short a time, to express my thanks."

Miss Trevannion did not wait for any reply from me, but then quitted the room.

I must say, that although so young a person, I was much pleased at Miss Trevannion's approval of my sentiments. She appeared, from the very short acquaintance I had had with her, to be a person of a firm and decided disposition, and very different from the insipid class of females generally met with. Her approval strengthened my resolution; still, as I had promised her father that I would go another cruise in the privateer, I left the house and went on board to resume the command. My return was joyfully hailed by the officers and men, which is not always the case. I found her, as may be supposed, ready for sea at a minute's warning, so that I had nothing to do but to embark my effects, which I did before the noon was passed, and then went on shore to Mr. Trevannion, to receive his orders. I found him with Captain Levee in the back room; and I told Mr. Trevannion that I had resumed the command, and was ready to sail as soon as he pleased.

"We must make up for lost time, Elrington," replied he; "I have ordered Captain Levee to cruise to the northward of the Western Isles, occasionally working up as far as the Scilly Isles. Now, I think, you had better take your ground in the Channel, between Dunkirk and Calais. There is as much to be made by salvage in recapturing English vessels in that quarter, as there is in taking the enemy's vessels; and I am sure," added Mr. Trevannion, smiling, "you will think that legitimate warfare."

At this Captain Levee laughed, and said, "I have been told what you said to Mr. Trevannion, Elrington. I said that it was the effects of being condemned for high treason, and would wear off in a three-months' cruise."

"Good impressions do wear off very soon, I fear," replied I; "but I hope that it will not be the case in this instance."

"We shall see, my good fellow," replied Captain Levee; "for my part I hope they will, for otherwise we shall lose the best privateer's-man I ever fell in with. However, it's no use bringing up the question now, let us wait till our cruises are over, and we meet again. Good-bye, Elrington, and may you be fortunate. My anchor is short stay apeak, and I shall be under sail in half an hour."

Captain Levee sailed at the time that he mentioned; I remained at anchor till the next morning, and then once more was running down the Irish Channel before a stiff breeze. I forgot to mention that while at Mr. Trevannion's I had looked at the address of the Catholic priest who had announced to me my release from prison, and had left copies of it, as well as of that of the lady at Paris, in the care of Mr. Trevannion. It was now cold, autumnal weather, and the Channel was but rough sailing-ground. During the first fortnight we were fortunate enough to make two recaptures of considerable value, which arrived safely in the Thames, after which we had a succession of gales front the southward, it being the time of the equinox, which drove us close to the sands of Yarmouth, and we even had difficulty in clearing them and getting into sea-room by standing to the eastward. The weather still continued very bad, and we were lying-to under storm sails for several days, and at last found ourselves a degree and a half to the northward, off the coast of Norfolk, when the weather moderated, and the wind changed to the northward. It was a fine clear night, but with no moon, and we were running before the wind to regain our cruising-ground; but the wind again shifted and baffled us, and at last it fell light, and, being on a wind, we did not make more than four miles an hour, although there was very little sea. About one o'clock in the morning, I had gone on deck, and was walking to and fro with the first officer, Mr. James, when I thought that I heard a faint hallo from to windward.

"Stop," said I; "silence there forward."

I listened, and thought that I heard the cry again. "Mr. James," said I, "did you not hear some one shout?"

"No, Sir," replied he.

"Wait, then, and listen."

We did so, but I could not hear it repeated.

"I am certain that I heard a voice as if on the waters," said I. "Perhaps some one has fallen overboard. Turn the hands up to muster, and haul the fore-sheet to windward."

The men were mustered, but no one was missing.

"It was your fancy, Sir," observed the first officer.

"It may have been," replied I; "but I am still in my own mind persuaded that such was the case. Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Shall we let draw the fore-sheet, Sir?" said Mr. James.

"Yes, we may as well; but the wind is lighter than it was. I think we shall have a calm."

"It will be as much as she can do to stem the tide and hold her own," observed Mr. James. "Let draw the fore-sheet, my lads."

Somehow or another I had a feeling which I could not surmount, that I certainly had heard a faint shout, and although admitting such to be the case, there was little chance of being of service to any one, I felt a reluctance to leave the spot, and as I walked the deck silent and alone, this feeling became insurmountable.

I remained on deck till the tide turned, and then, instead of taking advantage of it so as to gain to the southward, I put the schooner's head the other way, so as to keep as near as I could to the spot where I heard the voice, reducing her sail so as just to stem the tide. I cannot now account for my anxiety, which, under the circumstances, I most certainly never should have felt, unless it was that Providence was pleased to interpose on this occasion more directly than usual. I could not leave the deck; I waited for daylight with great impatience, and as the day dawned I had my telescope in my hand looking round the compass.

At last, as the sun rose from the fog on the horizon, something attracted my eye, and I made it out to be the two masts of a vessel which had sunk in about six fathoms water. Still I could see nothing except the masts. However, to make sure, I made sail on the schooner, and stood towards them. A short tack enabled us to fetch, and in half an hour we passed the wreck about a half-musket-shot to windward, when we perceived an arm lifted up out of the water, and waved to us.

"There is somebody there," said I, "and I was right. Quickly, my lads; fore-sheet to windward, and lower down the stern-boat."

This was done in a minute, and in a short time the boat returned, bringing with them a lad about sixteen years old, whom they had found in the water, clinging to the masts of the vessel. He was too much exhausted to speak or move. He was put into bed, covered up with blankets, and some warm spirits and water poured down his throat. We then hoisted up the boat, and made sail upon the schooner, and I went down below to breakfast, rejoicing that I had acted upon the impulse which I had felt, and had thus been instrumental in saving the life of a fellow-creature. A few minutes after he was put into bed, the lad fell into a sound sleep, which continued during the whole of the day. The next morning he awoke greatly recovered, and very hungry, and as soon as he had eaten he rose and dressed himself.

I then sent for him, as I was impatient to see him and learn his history. When he entered the cabin, it struck me I had seen his features before, but where I could not say. To my inquiries he stated that the brig was the Jane and Mary, of Hull, laden with coals; that they had started a wooden end during the gale, and that she had filled so rapidly that they got the boat from off the boom to save their lives, but from the heavy sea running, and the confusion, the boat had been bilged against the bulwarks, and went down as they were shoving off; that he had supported himself by one of the oars, and was soon separated from his companions who floated around him; that during this time the brig had sunk, and he, clinging to the oar, had been drawn towards her as she sank, and carried some feet under water. On his rising he perceived the top-gallant masts above water, and had made for them, and on looking round he could not see any of the rest of the crew, who must have all perished; that he had been two days on the mast, and was perished with cold. Finding that his feet, which hung down on the water, were much warmer than the other portions of his body exposed to the wind, he had sunk himself down in the water, and remained there, and had he not done so, he must have perished.

I asked him how long he had been at sea, and he said he had only gone one voyage, and had been but three months on board. There was something in his manner so superior to the condition of apprentice (which he stated himself to be) on board of such a vessel; and I felt such an interest, which I could not account for, towards the lad, that I then asked who were his friends. He replied, stammering, that he had not a friend in the world except a brother older than himself by many years, and he did not know where he was.

"But your father's name? Is he alive, and who is he? You must tell me that, or I shall not know where to send you."

The youth was very confused, and would not give me any answer.

"Come, my lad," I said, "I think as I have saved your life, I deserve a little confidence, and it shall not be misplaced. I perceive that you have not been brought up as a lad for the sea, and you must therefore trust me."

"I will, Sir," he replied, "if you will not send me back to my father and—mother."

"Certainly not against your will, my good lad," I replied, "although I shall probably persuade you all I can to return to them. I presume you ran away from your home?"

"Yes, Sir, I did," replied he; "for I could not possibly stay there any longer, and my brother did so before me, for the same reason that I did."

"Well, I promise you, if you will confide in me, that I will not force your inclinations, so now tell me who are your father and mother, and why you left home. You want a friend now, and without confidence you cannot expect friendship."

"I will tell you all, Sir," he replied, "for I see by your face that you will not take advantage of me."

He then commenced, and you may imagine my surprise, my dear Madam, when I found that it was my own brother Philip, whom I had left a child of ten years old, who was addressing me. He had, as he had asserted, left his home and thrown himself on the wide world for the same reason which I had; for his spirit, like mine, could not brook the treatment which he received. I allowed him to finish his narrative, and then made myself known to him.

You may imagine the scene, and the delight of the poor fellow, who, as he encircled me in his arms, clinging to me with the tears of joy on his cheeks, told me that his great object had been to find me out, and that although he had no idea what had become of me, he thought it most likely that I had taken to a seafaring life.

I now felt certain that Providence had specially interposed in this business, and had, for its own good reasons, created those unusual feelings of interest which I described to you, that I might be the saviour of my brother; and most grateful was I, I can assure you. I had now a companion and friend, one to love and to cherish. I was no longer alone in the world, and I do not know when I had felt so happy for a long while.

I left my brother below in the cabin, and went on deck to acquaint the officers with this strange meeting. The intelligence soon ran through the vessel, and of course the poor shipwrecked boy became an object of unusual interest. That whole day I was interrogating and receiving intelligence from him relative to our family. I made him describe his sisters and every member of it, even the servants and our neighbours were not forgotten, and for the first time since I had quitted home, I knew what had occurred during the six years of my absence. From the accounts he gave me, I certainly had no inclination ever to return as long as certain parties were in existence; and my brother declared that nothing but force should ever induce him. The more I talked with him, the more I was pleased with him. He appeared of a frank, noble disposition, full of honour and high sentiments, winning in his manners, and mirthful to excess. Indeed his handsome countenance implied and expressed as much, and it did not deceive.

I hardly need say that he took up his quarters in my cabin, and having procured for him more suitable apparel, he looked what he was, the perfect young gentleman. He was soon a general favourite on board, not only with the officers but with the men. One would have thought that the danger and distress we had found him in would have sickened him for the sea for ever; but it was quite the contrary. He delighted in his profession, and was certainly born to be a sailor. I asked him what he felt when he had remained so long clinging to the mast; if he had not given up all hopes of being saved? and he replied no, that he had not; that he did not know how long he might have had to remain there, but that he had never abandoned the idea of being taken off by some vessel or another, and that he thought that he might have continued there for twenty-four hours longer without being exhausted, as after he had sunk himself into the water he felt warm, and no exertion was necessary. It is of such buoyant spirits as these, Madam, that seamen should be made.

You cannot have an idea of the pleasure which I experienced at this falling in with my brother Philip. It appeared to have given a new stimulus to my existence; even privateering did not appear so hateful to me, after I had heard him express his delight at being likely to be so employed, for such he stated had long been his ardent wish. Two days afterwards we had regained our cruising-ground, and perceived a French privateer steering for the port of Calais, in company with a large merchant vessel which she had captured. The wind was light, and we discovered her at daybreak, just as the fog cleared away, she being then about mid-channel, and not more than five miles distant. We made all sail, and soon were within gun-shot. The Frenchman appeared determined not to part with his prize without a trial of strength, but as the captured vessel was the nearest to us, I decided to retake her first, and then fight him if he wished. I therefore steered to lay the prize by the board. The Frenchman, a lugger of twelve guns, perceiving our intention, made also for the prize to defend her, he steering up for her close-hauled, we running down to her free, the prize lying between us, and sheltering each of us from the other's guns. It is difficult to say whether the Frenchman or we were the first to touch her sides with our respective vessels; I rather think that the Frenchman was a second or two before us. At all events they were quicker than we were, and were on the deck first, besides having the advantage of the assistance of their men already on board, so that we were taken at a great disadvantage. However, we did gain the deck by boarding at two points, forward and aft, and a fierce contest ensued. The French were more numerous than we were, but my men were better selected, being all very powerful, athletic fellows. Philip had boarded with the other party forward, which was led by my chief officer. My party, who were abaft, not being so numerous, were beaten back to the taffrail of the vessel, where we stood at bay, defending ourselves against the furious assaults of the Frenchmen. But if we lost, the other party gained, for the whole body of the Frenchmen were between us and them, and those who faced Philip's party were driven back to abaft the mainmast. It so happened that Philip was thrown down on the deck, and his men passed over him; and while in that position, and unable to rise from the pressure upon him, he heard a calling out from below: this told him that the English prisoners were in the hold; and as soon as he could rise he threw off the hatches, and they rushed up, to the number of twenty-three stout fellows, to our support, cheering most manfully, and by their cheers announcing to the French that we had received assistance. This gave fresh courage to my men, who were hard pressed and faint with their great exertion. We cheered, and rushed upon the enemy, who were already weakened by many of them having turned round to resist the increased impetus from forward. Our cheers were replied to by Philip's party and the prisoners, and the French were losing the day. They made another desperate rush upon Philip's men, and succeeded in driving them back to before the main-hatches; but what they gained forward, they lost abaft, as we pushed on with vigour. This was their last attempt. The main-hatch being open, several of them in the confusion fell into it, others followed them of their own accord, and at last every one of them was beaten down from the deck, and the hatches were put over them, with three cheers.

"Now, for the privateer—she is our own," cried Philip; "follow me, my men," continued he, as he sprang upon the bulwarks of the prize, and from thence into the main rigging of the lugger alongside.

Most of my men followed him; and as there were but few men left on board of the lugger, she was soon in our possession, and thus we had both the enemy and the prize without firing a cannon-shot. It was strange that this combat between two privateers should thus be decided upon the deck of another vessel, but such was the fact. We had several men badly wounded, but not one killed. The French were not quite so fortunate, as seven of their men lay dead upon the decks. The prize proved to be the Antelope West-Indiaman, laden with sugar and rum, and of considerable value. We gave her up to the captain and crew, who had afforded us such timely assistance, and they were not a little pleased at being thus rescued from a French prison. The privateer was named the Jean Bart, of twelve guns, and one hundred and fifteen men, some away in prizes. She was a new vessel, and this her first cruise. As it required many men to man her, and we had the prisoners to incumber us, I resolved that I would take her to Liverpool at once; and six days afterwards we arrived there without further adventure. Philip's gallant conduct had won him great favour with my officers and men, and I must say that I felt very proud of him.

As soon as we had anchored both vessels, I went on shore with Philip to Mr. Trevannion's, to give him an account of what had occurred during the short cruise, and I hardly need say that he was satisfied with the results, as we had made three recaptures of value besides a privateer. I introduced Philip to him, acquainting him with his miraculous preservation, and Mr. Trevannion very kindly invited him for the present to remain in his house. We then took our leave, promising to be back by dinner-time, and I went with Philip to fit him out in a more creditable way; and having made my purchases and given my orders (it being then almost two o'clock post meridiem), we hastened to Mr. Trevannion's, that we might be in time for dinner. I was, I must confess, anxious to see Miss Trevannion, for she had often occupied my thoughts during the cruise. She met me with great friendliness and welcomed me back. Our dinner was very agreeable, and Philip's sallies were much approved of. He was, indeed, a mirthful, witty lad, full of jest and humour, and with a good presence withal. Mr. Trevannion being called out just as dinner was finished. Miss Trevannion observed—

"I presume, Mr. Elrington, that your good fortune and the reputation you have acquired in so short a time, have put an end to all your misgivings as to a privateer's-man's life?"

"I am not quite so light and inconstant, Miss Trevannion," replied I; "I rejoice that in this cruise I have really nothing to lament or blush for, and trust at the same time we have been serviceable to our country; but my opinion is the same, and I certainly wish that I had fought under the king's pennant instead of on board of a privateer."

"You are, then, of the same mind, and intend to resign the command?"

"I do, Miss Trevannion, although I admit that this lad's welfare makes it more important than ever that I should have some means of livelihood."

"I rejoice to hear you speak thus, Mr. Elrington, and I think my father's obligations to you are such, that if he does not assist you, I should feel ashamed of him—but such I am certain will not be the case. He will forward your views, whatever they may be, to the utmost of his power—at the same time, I admit, from conversations I have had with him, that he will be mortified at your resigning the command."

"And so shall I," said Philip, "for I do not agree with you or my brother: I see no more harm in privateering than in any other fighting. I suppose, Miss Trevannion, you have been the cause of my brother's scruples, and I tell you candidly to your face, that I do not thank you for it."

Miss Trevannion coloured up at this remark, and then replied, "I do not think, Mr. Philip, that I have had the pleasure of seeing your brother more than three times in my life, and that within these last six weeks, and sure I am that we have not had a quarter of an hour's conversation altogether. It is, therefore, assuredly, too much to say that I am the cause, and your brother will tell you that he expressed these opinions before I ever had had any conversation with him."

"That may be," replied Philip, "but you approved of his sentiments, and that concluded the business, I am sure, and I don't wonder at it. I only hope that you won't ask me to do any thing I do not wish to do; for I am sure that I could never refuse you any thing."

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Philip; for if I see you do that which I think wrong, I shall certainly try my influence over you," replied Miss Trevannion, smiling. "I really was not aware that I had such power."

Here Mr. Trevannion came in again, and the conversation was changed; and shortly afterwards Miss Trevannion left the room. Philip, who was tired of sitting while Mr. Trevannion and I took our pipes, and who was anxious to see the town, also left us; and I then stated to Mr. Trevannion that having now completed the cruise which I had agreed that I would, I wished to know whether he had provided himself with another captain.

"As you appear so determined, my dear Elrington, I will only say that I am very sorry, and will not urge the matter any longer. My daughter told me since your absence that she was certain that you would adhere to your resolution; and, although I hoped the contrary, yet I have been considering in which way I can serve you. It is not only my pleasure, but my duty so to do; I have not forgotten, and never will forget, that you in all probability saved my life by your self-devotion in the affair of the Jacobites. When you first came to me, you were recommended as a good accountant, and, to a certain degree, a man of business; and, at all events, you proved yourself well acquainted and apt at figures. Do you think that a situation on shore would suit you?"

"I should endeavour to give satisfaction, Sir," I replied; "but I fear that I should have much to learn."

"Of course you would; but I reply that you would soon learn. Now, Elrington, what I have to say to you is this: I am getting old, and in a few years shall be past work; and I think I should like you as an assistant for the present, and a successor hereafter. If you would like to join me, you shall superintend the more active portion of the business; and I have no doubt but that in a year or two you will be master of the whole. As you know, I have privateers and I have merchant vessels, and I keep my storehouses. I have done well up to the present; not so well, perhaps, now, as I did when I had slave-vessels, which were most profitable; but my deceased wife persuaded me to give up that traffic, and I have not resumed it, in honour of her memory. These foolish women should never interfere in such matters; but let that pass. What I have to say is, that if you choose after a year to join me as a partner, I will give you an eighth of the business, and as we continue I will make over a further share in proportion to the profits; and I will make such arrangements as to enable you at my death to take the whole concern upon favourable terms."

Mr. Trevannion knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and, as he concluded,—

"I am," I replied, "as you may imagine, Sir, much gratified and honoured at your proposal, which I hardly need say that I willingly accept. I only hope you will make allowance for my ignorance at first setting off, and not ascribe to any other cause my imperfections. You may assure yourself that good-will shall never be wanting on my part, and I shall work day and night, if required, to prove my gratitude for so kind an offer."

"Then, it is settled," said Mr. Trevannion; "but what are we to do with your brother Philip?"

"He thinks for himself, Sir, and does not agree with me on the question in point. Of course, I have no right to insist that my scruples should be his; indeed, I fear that I should have little chance in persuading him, as he is so fond of a life of adventure. It is natural in one so young. Age will sober him."

"Then you have no objection to his going on board of a privateer?"

"I would rather that he was in any other service, Sir; but as I cannot control him, I must submit, if he insist upon following that profession. He is a gallant, clever boy, and as soon as I can, I will try to procure him a situation in a king's ship. At present he must go to sea in some way or the other, and it were, perhaps, better that he should be in good hands (such as Captain Levee's for instance) on board of a privateer, than mix up with those who might demoralize him more."

"Well, then, he shall have his choice," replied Mr. Trevannion. "He is a smart lad, and will do you credit wherever he may be."

"If I may take the liberty to advise, Sir," replied I, "I think you could not do better than to give the command of the Sparrow-Hawk to the chief officer, Mr. James; he is a good seaman and a brave man, and I have no doubt will acquit himself to your satisfaction."

"I was thinking the same; and as you recommend him, he shall take your place. Now, as all this is settled, you may as well go on board and make known that you have resigned the command. Tell Mr. James that he is to take your place. Bring your clothes on shore, and you will find apartments ready for you on your return, for in future you will of course consider this house as your residence. I assure you that, now that you do not leave me, I am almost glad that the affair is arranged as it is. I wanted assistance, that is the fact, and I hold myself fortunate that you are the party who has been selected. We shall meet in the evening."

Mr. Trevannion then went away in the direction of his daughter's room, instead of the counting-house as usual, and I quitted the house. I did not go immediately down to the wharf to embark. I wanted to have a short time for reflection, for I was much overpowered with Mr. Trevannion's kindness, and the happy prospects before me. I walked out in the country for some distance, deep in my own reflections, and I must say that Miss Trevannion was too often interfering with my train of thought.

I had of course no fixed ideas, but I more than once was weighing in my mind whether I should not make known to them who I was, and how superior in birth to what they imagined. After an hour passed in building castles, I retraced my steps, passed through the town, and going down to the wharf, waved my handkerchief for a boat, and was soon on board. I then summoned the officers and men, told them that I had resigned the command of the vessel, and that in future they were to consider Mr. James as their captain. I packed up my clothes, leaving many articles for my successor which were no longer of any use to me, but which he would have been compelled to replace.

Philip I found was down in the cabin, and with him I had a long conversation. He stated his wish to remain at sea, saying that he preferred a privateer to a merchant vessel, and a king's ship to a privateer. Not being old enough, or sufficient time at sea to be eligible for a king's ship, I agreed that he should sail with Captain Levee, as soon as he came back from his cruise. He had already sent in a good prize. As soon as my clothes and other articles were put into the boat, I wished them all farewell, and was cheered by the men as I pulled on shore.