"I say, Jack, don't you take me for a pirate again, if you please," said Terence, as they separated. They wandered about in all directions, putting their noses into huts, and their cutlasses into heaps of straw and litter of all sorts; but the whole place seemed deserted. They found nothing. Perhaps this was because they had no torch, and the night was very dark. Already a few faint streaks of daylight were appearing in the sky, when, as Terence was standing near Hemming, a trampling of feet was heard, and loud shouts in the distance.

"Hurrah! here come the Greeks, they have been routed out at last," cried Paddy. They could just make out a body of men stooping down, they thought, and hurrying towards them, not seeing that their enemies were ready to intercept them.

"Cut them down, if they don't yield themselves prisoners," sang out Hemming, leading on his men. Paddy sprang on boldly, in his eagerness to meet the foe, and instantly afterwards was knocked head over heels by one of his opponents. He felt as if he had been run through by a bayonet or a pike, or something of that sort, though he could not make out exactly where he had been wounded. There was a terrific shouting in the rear of the enemy, and he had no difficulty in recognising the voices of his shipmates, especially those of Jack and Murray. The shouts came nearer and nearer. He picked himself up to see what had become of the enemy, but they were nowhere to be found. Instead of them, a flock of goats, chased by Mr Thorn's party, and frightened by their shouts, were butting away with heroic valour at anybody and everybody who came in their way, while daylight revealed the laughing countenances of his friends, who had seen his overthrow and the enemy which caused it. Paddy did not much mind, however. He rubbed himself over, and finding that he had no bones broken, or any puncture in his body, burst into a loud laugh.

"I shouldn't be surprised but that those are the very fellows with the long beards we saw standing at the top of the ramparts, and whom everybody took for pirates," he exclaimed. "As they turned round to scamper away, they kicked the stones down over us. We are all in one box, that's a comfort. No one can laugh at the other." Thus Adair very adroitly turned the laugh from himself. Every one acknowledged the probable correctness of his surmises, but still Mr Thorn thought it right to continue his search for the outlaws. No information could be obtained from their fair captives, as Paddy called them. There could be little doubt that there must have been very lately a number of men in the fort, for it could not be supposed that three old women would be left as the regular garrison of a pretty strong fortification. They were still continuing their search, when daylight revealed to them a couple of boats under all sail, standing away to the northward, and by the course they were steering looking as if they must but a short time before have left the island. Mr Thorn ordering Hemming to take charge of the place, leaving him Rogers and a few more men, hurried down the height, to go in pursuit of the flying enemy.

"Remember the captain's orders were, that we were to attack and make prisoners of the men alone, but that goods of every description and all private property is to be strictly respected."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered Hemming, meaning that he understood the orders received.

Hunting about they discovered a very steep winding path down to the harbour. By it Mr Thorn and his followers descended to their boats, and away they went in hot pursuit of the pirates. The wind was light, but as they could both pull as well as sail, they made tolerable way after the chase. Meantime the party in charge of the fort became very hungry, and as they had left their provisions in the boats, it was necessary to send for them. Adair accordingly, with a couple of men, was despatched on this duty. He had no great difficulty in finding his way, as he could see from one end of the island to the other, and he soon reached the top of the cliff, below which the boats had been left; he looked over the edge of the cliff, but he could discover no boats. He hallooed to the boat-keepers, but there was no answer.

"They must be asleep, Mr Adair," observed one of the men.

"So I might think if I saw any boats," answered Terence. "But the boats are not there, I am sure."

To ascertain the fact, however, more certainly, they descended to the beach. No boats were to be seen. They looked behind the points of rock on either side, but no boats were visible. They shouted at the top of their voices, but the only sound in reply was the shriek of some sea-fowl, startled from their resting-places in the cliffs.

"Have we got to the right spot, do you think?" suggested Terence, hope springing up in his breast that they had made a mistake.

"No doubt about it, sir," was the answer; "I remember climbing up through this very gap; there are the marks of our feet plain enough."

"And the marks of a good many other feet too," observed Terence, examining the ground. "I am very much afraid that the boats have been run away with by the pirates; but what can have become of our poor shipmates, I cannot think."

His men agreed with him in the opinion that the pirates must have made off with the boats; and, after searching about in every direction for the poor fellows who had been left in charge of them, they returned to the fort with the unsatisfactory news. All hands had, in the meantime, grown ravenously hungry. The old women could not, or would not, give them any food. At all events, they turned a deaf ear to all their hints and signs that it would be acceptable. Some very black dry bread was discovered, and also some fowls, but no eggs were to be seen; and fowls, Mr Hemming was afraid, would be looked upon as private property. What was to be done? The provisions from the boats would soon arrive, and then they might lawfully satisfy their appetites. I forgot to say that Mr Dobbin, the mate of the merchantman which had been plundered, had come to try and identify the stolen property. While storming the fort, he had been as active as any one, and showed that had there been work to be done he was the fellow to do it. To employ the time till they could get some breakfast, Hemming determined to commence a systematic search for the stolen property. They hunted and hunted about with great zeal, examining every hut and every heap of rubbish.

"I wonder, after all, if this is the place the pirates are accustomed to hide in," observed Jack. "It would be a sell if we had made a mistake altogether."

"What could have put that into your head, Rogers?" exclaimed Hemming, feeling rather queer. "Oh, no! there's no doubt about it."

Still, as he got more and more hungry, and searched still farther in vain, his spirits began to sink to zero, and he could lot help believing that Jack might be right. Just then here was a shout from some of the party. They were standing before a dilapidated hut, the door of which they had broken open. Presently the mate of the merchantman appeared dragging out a bale of goods.

"Hurrah! we have not searched for nothing!" he exclaimed. "There seems to be a good bit of the ship's cargo in here."

A number of valuable bales of cotton and cloth, and some silk, were hauled forth, all of which the mate identified as having formed part of the cargo of his ship. Still there was a very large part of the missing property not forthcoming. Nothing else was found for some time, till one of the men, of an inquisitive turn of mind, happened to poke his head into one of the pigsties, where, in the farthest corner, his eye fell on several bales piled up one above the other to the roof. The clue to the sort of place in which the well-known ingenuity of the Greeks had taught them to conceal their booty once being discovered, a considerable amount more was brought to light. Still much was missing. Just then Adair and his men were seen returning.

"Hurrah I now we'll have breakfast," cried Jack, who declared that he could eat a porcupine or a crocodile, outside and all, he was so hungry. What was his dismay, and that of all the party, when they found that no food was forthcoming, and that the boats were not to be found. Just then their hunger was most pressing, and they left the subject of what had become of the boats for after consideration. The brown bread by itself was very uninviting. Jack looked at a fat pig in the sty with the eye of an ogre.

"Is it possible that the pirates could have stuffed some of the silks and laces inside that huge porker, Hemming?" asked Jack, "I've heard of some Flanders mares coming across the Channel stuffed up to the mouth with lace," observed Adair.

"If it were possible, I think we should be right to search that pig," said Hemming, looking very hard at the unconscious object under discussion, who went grunting on, asking somewhat loudly for food.

"There's no doubt about it," cried the mate of the merchantman. "She'll make prime pork chops too."

The men had been meantime collecting sticks and lighting a fire: perhaps they shrewdly guessed how the discussion might end.

"Here, butcher, you'll understand how to cut that pig up better than any of us, so as to see what is in her inside," said Hemming. In a very short time the fat pig was converted into pork, and some prime chops were frizzling and hissing away before the fire. No laces or satins were found inside, but instead some very delicious pig's fry, which, under the circumstances, was perhaps more acceptable, especially as the laces would, I think, have been spoilt had they been stuffed down the pig's throat. The old women made a great lamentation when they saw their pig being killed, but they were pacified by having some of the chops presented to them, and then they produced some salt, and some better bread, and some lemons, and plates, and knives, and forks, which latter were of silver. Their female hearts evidently softened when they found that no harm was done to them, and that killing the pig was a case of necessity; and though they were not communicative, simply from want of language to express themselves, they chattered away to each other most vehemently. They spread a table in the hall where they had been first seen, and seemed to wish to do their best to serve their uninvited guests. The seamen made very merry over their feast of pig, though they were rather in want of something to wash it down. Poor fellows! they had neither tea nor coffee. At length the old ladies produced a jar of arrack—very vile stuff it was, but the seamen would have drunk it without stint had Mr Hemming allowed them. He, however, interposed, and insisted on serving out only a little at a time to a few of the men. The effect was such as to make him jump up and kick over the jar, by which all the liquor was spilt, very much to the disappointment of those who had not had any.

"I don't mean to say that these respectable old ladies put anything into the spirits, but somebody did, and you would have been very sorry for yourselves if you had taken much of it," he observed, as he reseated himself.

This little incident rather astonished the old ladies, but not understanding what was said, they took it to be the effect of pure accident, and continued as attentive as before.

"When the boats come back, you shall have your grog, my lads," said Hemming; "in the meantime, if any of you are thirsty, there's a well of cool water. The pirates will scarcely have thought of poisoning that."

By the time the feast was concluded, very little of the pig remained; the seamen declared that they had never eaten better pork in their lives. The rest of the day was spent in searching for stolen property, though only a few bales of merchandise were discovered, stowed away here and there, in the oddest places imaginable. Meantime Hemming and Jack began to be somewhat anxious about Mr Thorn and the boats. Evening was coming on, and they ought long before to have returned. In vain the old mate and the midshipman scanned the horizon. Not a sail was to be seen approaching the island. Two or three vessels only passed far away in the offing. Many other rocky isles were rising out of the ocean like blue mounds, some of them faint and misty from the distance they were off. Towards one of them the boats had directed their course. It was well-known that many of them were, and had been for ages, the haunts of pirates.

"I say, Hemming, suppose Mr Thorn has been entrapped by some of those piratical fellows out there; what will become of them, I wonder?" said Jack.

"We shall have to go and hunt them out," was the answer. "The pirates will scarcely venture to hurt them."

The evening drew on and darkness returned, and still no boats made their appearance. Mr Hemming, who was really a very good officer, especially when in command, and when he felt the responsibility of his position, had a strict watch kept all night, for he thought it probable that some of the pirates might be hid in the island, and, when they found how few were left in charge of the fort, might attempt a surprise to recover the booty. The night, however, passed away quietly, and in the morning Jack was despatched in the cutter to carry information of what had occurred to the frigate. Jack had a long pull, for the wind was contrary. He kept his eyes about him all the way, looking into every nook and corner, for he could not tell in which a pirate-boat might have taken shelter, and he thought it more than likely that one might suddenly pounce out and try to capture him. None appeared. This, however, did not make him less cautious for the future. One of the many pieces of advice given him by Admiral Triton was never to despise an enemy, and always to take every precaution against surprise. A soldier or sailor in war time should always sleep with one eye open, and his arms in his hands, the Admiral used to say, speaking somewhat metaphorically. The foolhardy folly which had made many officers neglect proper precautions, has caused the destruction of many brave men, as well as the failure of many important enterprises. At last Jack reached the frigate. Captain Lascelles was very much vexed at hearing of the loss of the boats. He instantly ordered the Racer to be got under weigh to go in search of them. It was very intricate navigation among those isles and islets and rocks, especially at night, but the wind was fair, and there was a moon to shed her pale light over the ocean. The lead was kept constantly going, and hands were stationed aloft as lookouts. The Racer had got just off the island of which Hemming was left in charge, when a lookout forward announced a boat on the starboard bow. The boat was pulling towards them, and the frigate being hove-to, she came alongside, and Alick Murray appeared on board. He reported that they had overtaken the pirates who were in possession of the boats close to a rocky island, and were on the point of capturing them when half a dozen boats started out and completely turned the fortunes of the day. On this, Mr Thorn, seeing that they must inevitably be overpowered, ordered him to endeavour to make his escape, and to give notice of what had occurred. This, though pursued, he had been able to do. Jack having reported the starving state of the garrison, a boat was sent with provisions and men to ascertain also how Hemming and his party were getting on. She returned in half a hour with a favourable report, bringing off Mr Dobbin, the mate of the merchantman, and the frigate then continued her course for the second piratical stronghold. She did not come off it till near noon the next day, and then had to sail twice round it before a landing-place could be discovered. Some little anxiety was felt for the fate of Mr Thorn and his men, for the pirates were not supposed to be gentlemen who stood on ceremony as to the treatment of their prisoners.

"If they dare to injure our people, the Greeks well know that we would sweep every one of them off their rock into the sea," said Captain Lascelles. "Clemency on such an occasion is cruelty to others."

Scarcely had the frigate hove-to off what appeared to be a little harbour, than a boat with a white flag was seen coming out of it. In ten minutes a splendidly dressed Greek came up the side armed with a handsomely chased sword and pistols, and a red cap set jauntily on one side.

"Can any one speak Italian?" he asked, in a soft tone, in that beautiful language.

"Yes, I can," answered Captain Lascelles.

"Then, sir, I have to make great complaints of ill-treatment from your people," replied the Greek; and he made out a long story to the effect that he, a quiet, respectable landowner, whose sole aim was to cultivate in peace a few acres of land descended to him from a long line of illustrious ancestors, that he had been insulted, attacked by an aimed force, suspected of robbery, of which he was incapable; that some of his poor peasants, in their horror and alarm, finding some boats, had jumped into them and induced their crews to assist in pulling them to a neighbouring island, hoping there to be safe; that they had been pursued, and that then, and not till then, had they been compelled to resort to some gentle force for their own protection. While the Greek was speaking, Mr Dobbin came up behind him, and made signs that he was the very man who had plundered their brig.

"Why, sir, the master of an English merchantman complains that you ill-treated his people and robbed his vessel."

"O Signori, impossibile; that I should be guilty of such an act!" and the Greek smiled sweetly and put his hand on his heart.

For a moment he was, however, a little taken aback when Mr Dobbin, stepping forward and confronting him, said, "Do you know me?"

"Ah si, adesso me ricordo! Ah yes, now I recollect," said the Greek, with a bland smile. "But you shall judge, sir, how unjustly I am accused. I did lately take charge of a brig for a friend. I was suffering from want of water and bread. See the deceitfulness of the world; I asked it humbly, they gave it willingly, and at the same time this certificate," and he produced the paper signed by the master of the brig. The impudence of the Greek almost overcame the captain's composure.

"Notwithstanding that paper, I must detain you," he observed.

"What! Detain an independent chieftain, who comes on board your ship under the sacred protection of a flag of truce, a thing unheard of by all civilised nations," exclaimed the Greek in a tone of indignation and astonishment; "no, no, you will not do that."

The Greek was right; Captain Lascelles would not do a wrong even to obtain an undoubted right. The Greek knew that he had outwitted us. The result was that he undertook to send the boats and their crews on board the frigate unharmed, on condition that the island was not attacked by an armed force. To these terms Captain Lascelles was obliged to consent. Mr Thorn and Murray soon came back, very well, but very much vexed at what had occurred. The island was afterwards searched, but nothing was found, and the Racer, having taken on board all the recovered booty, conveyed it to Corfu, where the merchantman was waiting to receive it. After a month or so, when the frigate got back to Malta, Captain Lascelles found that the independent Greek chieftain had lodged a complaint to the effect that his cattle and poultry had been wantonly destroyed. On inquiry, the matter resolved itself into the slaughter of the pig. It came out that Jack and Adair had proposed the crime. The Admiral at the time thought it better to take no notice of the affair. However, he soon after invited the two midshipmen to dine with him, and both of them found themselves served with rather a large helping of roast pork.

"You are fond of pig, young gentlemen, are you not?" said the Admiral, with a laugh in his eye.

"Yes, sir, very, especially when I have to kill one in the line of duty, and am ravenously hungry into the bargain," answered Paddy, with all the simplicity of an Irishman. The Admiral laughed, and as he was fond of a joke, and knew both Lord Derrynane and Admiral Triton, he often asked the two youngsters for the sake of passing it off and telling the story about the pig and the pirates.

Soon after this Jack and Terence met with a severe trial. For the first time since they came to sea they were separated, and Adair was appointed to a ten-gun brig, the Onyx. Happily that class of vessels no longer exists in the navy. They obtained the unattractive title of sea-coffins, from the number of them which had been lost with all hands. They carried a heavy weight of metal on deck, had but little beam, but were rigged with taut masts and very square yards. Still these circumstances did not trouble Adair half as much as parting from Jack and Murray.

The frigate and the brig were sent to cruise in different directions, and for several months did not meet.

"A brig of war is in sight," said Jack, entering the captain's cabin, sent by the officer of the watch; "she has made her number the Onyx."

"Signalise her to heave-to when she nears us," said Captain Lascelles. "I will be on deck presently." In a short time another signal was run up. It was to invite the captain and officers of the brig to dine on board the frigate. It was very readily accepted, and in a short time the tall frigate and her little companion might have been seen quietly floating near each other, their sails scarcely filled by the light breeze, and their rigging and hulls reflected vividly in the calm water. The midshipmen had a great deal to talk about, and numerous adventures to describe more interesting to themselves than to anybody else. They had a very merry party also in the midshipmen's berth, and all were sorry to find that it was time for the officers of the brig to return on board. When Captain Lascelles and his party came on deck he cast his eye round the horizon.

"I do not like the look of the sky out there," he remarked, pointing with his hand to the eastward. "Captain Sims, I must advise you to get on board as soon as possible and shorten sail, or your brig will be caught in a squall before you are ready." Captain Sims was not a man fond of rapid movement, but on this occasion he saw that no time was to be lost.

"Good-bye, Paddy," said Jack; "take care of yourself aboard the little hooker there, and we'll have many a jovial day together before long."

"Good-bye, Rogers; good-bye, Murray; good-bye, old fellows," answered Terence.

"The brig is a jolly little craft, in spite of what they call her."

"What's that?" asked Murray.

"The sea-coffin," answered Terence, as they shoved off. The two boats which had brought the captain and his officers made the best of their way to the brig. They were soon close to her. The white cloud had meantime been growing larger and larger, and yet there was scarcely a breath of wind. Many on board the frigate did not believe even that a squall was brewing. Suddenly the clouds, as if impelled by some mighty impulse, came rushing on, not in a direct line, but with a circular motion, towards the spot where lay the two ships of war.

"All hands shorten sail," cried the first lieutenant. "Man the fore and main clew-garnets, spanker brails—topsail-halyards—clew up—haul down, let fly of all." These and sundry other orders followed in rapid succession. The squall, seeming to gain rapidity as it advanced, struck the frigate before it was expected. Jack and Murray had hurried with others to their stations aloft, and were endeavouring as rapidly as they could to get those orders they received executed, but the exertions of all were insufficient to take the canvas off the ship in time. Over heeled the frigate on her beam end, the water rushing in at her lee ports—some of the sails were split to ribbons, sheets and halyards were flying loose, and a scene of confusion prevailed such as she had never before been in. The whole surface of the ocean was a mass of white foam, surrounded by which the ship lay an almost helpless wreck. The helm was put up but she would not answer it.

"We shall have to cut away the mizen-mast," observed the captain. "But we'll try and make head sail on her first." This was done. A suppressed shout of satisfaction showed that she felt its power, and away she flew like a sea-bird before the squall, the darkness of night coming on to bide all surrounding objects from their view. Then, and not till then, had any one time to turn a glance towards the Onyx. Not a glimpse of her was to be seen. Jack and Murray had watched the boats get alongside, and they were on the point of being hoisted in when the squall struck the frigate. Both of them had a sad apprehension that they had seen the masts of the brig bending down before the squall, but so great at the moment was the uproar and confusion that it appeared more like the vision of a dream than a reality. The instant the squall blew over, the frigate beat back towards the spot where, as far as it could be calculated, the brig had last been seen. Had she bore up she must have been passed. In vain every eye on board was engaged in looking out for her. All night long the frigate tacked backwards and forwards. Not a trace of her could be discovered. Daylight returned; the sun arose; his glorious beams played joyfully over the blue surface of the ocean just rippled by a summer's breeze, but it was too evident that all those they sought and the gay little craft they manned lay engulfed beneath its treacherous bosom.

"There's one of us gone," said Jack, as he bent his head down over the table of the berth to hide his face. "Poor Paddy!"

Murray said nothing, but his countenance was very sad.



CHAPTER FIVE.

ROASTING THE BULLY.

The midshipmen were aroused by the cry of "All hands shorten sail!" The boatswain's whistle had not ceased sounding along the decks before Jack and Murray were on their way aloft, the first to the fore, the other to the maintop, where they were stationed. A heavy squall had struck the frigate, and she was heeling over with her main-deck ports almost in the water. Up they flew with the topmen to their respective stations, while the officer of the watch was shouting through his speaking-trumpet. "Let go topgallant-halyards. Clew up, haul down." Then came, "Let fly topsail-halyards. Clew up. Round in the weather braces." Down came the yards on the caps. The sails were now bulging out and shaking in the wind. Out flew the active topmen to the yard-arms. Jack, as he had often before done, ran out to get hold of the weather earing. He was hauling away on it while the men hauled the reef over to him. He had already taken two outer turns with it, when, as he leaned back, he felt himself suddenly thrown from his hold. In vain he tried to clutch the earing; it slipped through his fingers. Headlong he came down, striking the leech of the sail. Mechanically he clutched at that. Probably it broke his fall. In another moment he was among the foaming waters, with the ship flying fast away from him. Murray had meantime been watching to see which mast would have its sails first reefed, and as he looked forward he saw Jack fall from aloft. He guessed that he must have struck his head when falling, and that he would be senseless when he reached the water. In a moment his jacket and shoes were off, and down he slid like lightning by the topmast weather backstay, and, leaping into the water, swam towards the spot where Jack had fallen. Captain Lascelles had seen the accident. He was on the poop. Stepping back, he himself let go the life-buoy, noting exactly the spot where the accident had occurred. But not an order did he give. Perfectly cool, he stood waiting till the sails were reefed. Murray meantime caught sight of Jack, who lay senseless on the water, to the surface of which he had just risen, after having once gone down from the force with which he had fallen into the sea. Murray dreaded lest he should again see him sink. He exerted all his strength to get up to him. The life-buoy was not far off. Had there been time he would have first towed it up to Jack, but he was afraid if he did that he would in the meantime sink. Murray swam bravely on. The foam, as the wind swept it off the surface of the sea, dashed wildly in his face, but he kept his eye fixed steadily on Jack's head, that should he go down again, he might know exactly where to dive after him. Murray, under Jack's instruction, had been constantly practising swimming, and he now very nearly equalled his master in the art. His courage was as high, and what he wanted in muscular strength he made up by his undaunted spirit. He longed to know what had become of the frigate, but he would not turn his head to look. His first object was to get hold of Jack, and to keep his face out of the water, that, when animation returned, he might not be suffocated. With steady strokes he swam on, admirably retaining his presence of mind. Every stroke was measured. There was no hurry, no bustle, with Murray; he knew that such would only bring worse speed. What an excellent example did he set of the way to attain an important object! Calmly eyeing it, and though clearly comprehending all the difficulties and dangers which surrounded him, with unswerving courage pushing towards his point. "Keep up! keep up, Jack!" he sang out, but Jack did not hear him. The seas, every moment increasing, came roaring towards him, while the foam dashed over his head. He surmounted them all. "I am here. Jack! I am here!" he repeated, as he grasped Jack by the collar and turned him over on his back, so that his face might be uppermost. A faint moan was all the reply Rogers gave. It was satisfactory, as it assured Murray that he was alive. Now he looked round anxiously for the life-buoy. It had drifted away before the gale. But then he also had the wind in his favour, and he did not despair of overtaking it. With one hand supporting his shipmate, and with the other striking out, he swam steadily on as before towards the life-buoy. Evening was coming on. Darkness he knew would soon overspread the sea. He knew that. He knew the difficulty there might be in finding him and his companion. A far more practical swimmer than he might have despaired, but he did not. Murray did not trust to his own right arm to save him. He looked to help from above. He knew if it was right it would be afforded him. If not, he was prepared to meet his fate.

Meantime away flew the frigate. The moment the sails were reefed, the captain issued the orders he had been anxious to give. "About ship," "helm's a-lee." Never did the crew more strenuously exert themselves to box round the yards. They knew who was overboard, and the two midshipmen were favourites with all hands: Murray for the calm, gentlemanly, officer-like way in which he spoke to the men, and for the thorough knowledge of his duty he always displayed; Jack for his dash and bravery, and good spirits and humour with which he carried out any work allotted to him. They now saw that neither was Murray wanting in dash and courage. As the frigate was standing back towards the spot where the accident had occurred, preparations were made for lowering a boat. There was no hurry or confusion in this case. Her proper crew were called away. The second lieutenant took charge of her. Some people called Captain Lascelles a very strict officer. It is true he never overlooked a breach of discipline or carelessness of duty. He used to say that a breach of discipline, however trifling, if allowed to pass, was like a small leak, which, if permitted to continue, will go on increasing till the ship founders. Thus, among other good arrangements, every boat on board was kept in readiness to be lowered at a moment's notice, and everybody knew exactly what to do when a boat was to be lowered.

Captain Lascelles did not allow his feelings to appear; but he was intensely anxious about the fate of his two midshipmen. He would have given all the worldly wealth of which he was possessed to be assured that they would be saved. The thick clouds brought up by the gale increased the gathering gloom. Neither they nor the life-buoy could be seen. He had carefully noted the exact course on which the frigate had run since they went overboard, so that he was able to calculate how to keep her, so as to fetch back to the same spot. There were also many sharp eyes on the lookout forward, endeavouring with all their might to discover the lost ones. In those southern latitudes darkness comes on with a rapidity unknown in lands blessed by a long twilight. Thus, before the frigate got up to the spot where the accident had occurred, the night had come down completely on the world of waters.

"I am afraid that the poor lads must be lost," said the second to the first lieutenant. "We ought to hear them or see something of them by this time."

"Don't say that, Thorn," answered the first lieutenant. "Rogers is the midshipman who took the fine on shore when the Firefly was wrecked; and Murray, though so quiet, is a very gallant fellow. They will do all that can be done to save themselves. I should indeed be deeply grieved if they were lost."

There was a good deal of sea at the time running, but not enough to make the lowering of a boat a matter of danger if carefully performed.

"Well heave the ship to, and lower a couple of boats to go in search of the lads," observed the captain.

The first lieutenant issued the necessary orders, and the ship was brought up to the wind and hove-to. Mr Thorn eagerly went to lower one of the boats. Hemming took charge of the other. Their respective crews sprang into them. The falls were properly tended and unhooked at the right moment, and, getting clear of the ship, they lay ready to pull in whatever direction might be indicated. Here was the difficulty.

"Silence fore and aft," sang out the captain. "Does any one hear them?"

In an instant there was a dead silence. No one would have supposed that many hundred human beings were at that moment alive and awake on board the ship. Every one listened intently, but no sound was borne to their ears. Even Captain Lascelles began to give up all hope.

"The poor widowed mother, how will she bear it?" he muttered; "and that honest country gentleman—it will be sad news I shall have to send him of his son."

Scarcely had the captain thus given expression to his feelings, when a bright light burst forth amid the darkness some way to leeward. A shout spontaneously arose from all on board. "They must have got hold of the life-buoy, they must have got hold of the life-buoy," was the cry. "Hurrah! hurrah!" The two boats dashed away, with eager strokes, in the direction of the light.

Meantime Murray had towed Jack steadily on towards the buoy. He began to feel very weary though, and sometimes he thought that his strength would fail him. He looked at the buoy; it seemed a very long way off. He felt at last that he should never be able to reach it. "I'll not give in while life remains," he said to himself. Just then his hand struck against something. He grasped it. It was a large piece of Spanish cork-wood. He shoved it under Jack's back, and rested his own left arm on it. He immediately found an immense advantage from the support it afforded. "Who sent that piece of cork-wood to my aid?" he thought; "it did not come by chance." The assurance that he was not deserted gave him additional confidence. Jack also gave further signs of returning animation.

"Where am I?" he at length asked, in a tone of voice which showed that his senses were still confused.

"In the middle of the Mediterranean; but there's a life-buoy close at hand, and when we get hold of it we shall be all to rights," answered Murray.

"What! is that you, Alick?" asked jack. "I remember now feeling that I was going overboard; but how came you here? Has the ship gone down?"

"No, no; all right; she'll be here to pick us up directly, I hope."

"Then you jumped overboard to save me!" exclaimed Jack. "Just like you, Alick; I knew you would do it."

Jack lay perfectly still all the time he was talking. It did not seem to occur to him that he could swim as well as his companion.

"Here we are!" cried Murray; "Heaven be praised—I was afraid that I should scarcely be able to make out the life-buoy, it is getting so dark." He placed Jack's hand on one of the beckets, and took another himself, and together they climbed up, and sat on the life-buoy. Murray drew the piece of cork up alongside, observing, "I do not like to desert the friend which has been of so much service in our utmost need, and to kick it away without an acknowledgment."

Jack laughed. He had now completely come to his senses. "I'm very much obliged to you, Friend Cork," said he. "I know, Murray, what you are going to say; I am, indeed, thankful to Heaven for having thus far preserved me, and to you too, my dear fellow. But, I say, can you make out the ship?"

"Not a shred of her. I scarcely know in what quarter to look for her."

"Well, then, all we shall have to do is to hang on here till daylight. The weather is warm, so we shall not come to much harm if the wind goes down again, and I am very certain the captain will come and look for us."

"It may be a question whether he can find us, though," said Murray. "By-the-bye, I do not think that the buoy was fired. If we can find the trigger we will let it off, and that will quickly show our whereabouts."

"A bright idea," answered jack. "Hurrah! I've found it. Now blaze away, old boy." Jack pulled the trigger as he spoke, and immediately an intensely bright bluish light burst forth above their heads, exhibiting their countenances to each other, with their hair streaming, lank and long, over their faces, giving them at the same time a very cadaverous and unearthly appearance. Jack, in spite of their critical position, burst into a fit of laughter. "Certainly, we do look as unlike two natty quarter-deck midshipmen as could well be," he exclaimed. "Never mind, we have not many spectators."

Jack and Murray's coolness arose from the perfect confidence they felt that they would not be deserted while the slightest hope remained of their being found; and now that they had set off the port-fire they were almost as happy as if they were already safe on board. They had not much longer to wait. Presently a hail reached them; they shouted in return, and soon afterwards they saw a couple of boats emerging from the darkness. One took them on board—the other towed the life-buoy; and in half an hour more their wet clothes were off them, and they were being stowed away between the blankets in the sick-bay, each of them sipping a pretty strong glass of brandy and water. Of course, when the excitement was over, a very considerable reaction took place, and several days passed before they were allowed to return to their duty. Captain Lascelles then sent for Jack, and inquired how he came to tumble overboard? Jack had to confess that in his zeal he had gone beyond his duty, and that, instead of remaining at his station in the top, he had been attempting to do work which ought to have been performed by one of the topmen.

"You were wrong, as you will see, Rogers," remarked Captain Lascelles. "Remember that there is a strict line of duty, and that going beyond, as you call it, may be quite as injurious to the service as neglecting any portion of it. Your business was to see that the men were properly reefing the topsail. By going out on the yard-arm you could not do this, and were thus neglecting your duty—not going beyond it. I have no intention of punishing you, on condition that you will recollect what I have said."

Jack promised that he would, and thanked the captain for his lecture. Murray got, as he deserved, a great deal of credit for his gallantry; and he was not a little delighted to receive the gold medal, some time afterwards, from the Humane Society. Soon after this occurrence, the frigate was sent to Gibraltar. She there took on board several passengers for Malta. One was a bear, which was sent as a present to the captain of a line-of-battle ship on the station, from some consul in Africa, who knew that he was fond of pets; another was a young gentleman going to travel in the East. The captain had given him a passage, as he was a relation of some brother officer who could not take him himself. He had been offered, and accepted, a berth in the gun-room. Neither Jack nor Murray had seen him, nor had they heard his name before they sailed. The next morning, after they had lost sight of the rock, when they went on deck, who should they see walking up and down, with an air of no little consequence, and having a pair of lilac kid gloves on his hands, but Bully Pigeon. Jack and Murray forgot all his bad qualities, and only thought of him as an old schoolfellow. So they went up to him, and cordially put out their hands.

"Why, Pigeon, how are you, old fellow? Who'd have thought of seeing you here?" exclaimed Jack.

Pigeon drew himself up. "You must have made a mistake; I—I don't remember you," he answered.

"Oh! but we do you, very well, at Eagle House. I'm Jack Rogers, here's Murray. We two came together. You didn't leave, either, before us," said Jack. "Oh! you must remember all about it."

"Ah! now I think I do," replied Pigeon, extending the tips of his fingers. "There was another fellow went to sea at the same time. Paddy something—Oh! ye-es, I remember."

"Ah! Paddy Adair, you mean. Poor fellow, he was lost in the Onyx," answered Jack, in a sad tone.

"Oh! I remember—he was always a harum-scarum vagabond," said Pigeon, in a sneering way.

"He was as true a fellow as ever stepped!" exclaimed Jack indignantly. "If he were here, Pigeon, you would not speak so of him." The bully, as usual, was silenced. It was not Jack's way to cut anybody, but neither he nor Murray felt inclined to have any intimate conversation with their old schoolfellow. Still they could not help asking him about the school, and the various changes which had taken place since they left.

"Well, I'm glad it prospers," exclaimed Jack. "It was a first-rate, jolly good school; there was no humbug about it. I spent many happy days there."

Murray echoed these sentiments. Pigeon of course sneered, and observed that, "though there were a good many noblemen, and sons of gentlemen, there were a number of sons of merchants and city people."

"Ah! that is just what there should be," said Jack. "It is the very thing that keeps England so well together. When the gentle born you speak of find that the sons of city men are as gentlemanly, as clever, and as honourable as themselves, and can play cricket or leapfrog, or anything of that sort, perhaps better than they do, they learn to respect them, and treat them as their equals ever afterwards. That is one of the very things that made our school so good. We used to think of fellows not for what they were but for what they did—except, perhaps, a few miserable sneaks, who 'carnied' up to a fellow because he had a handle to his name."

Pigeon did not respond to this sentiment, because he had been noted far doing the very thing that Jack reprobated.

Jack could not help describing Pigeon in the berth, and the general opinion was that he deserved to be well roasted while he remained on board—in other words, that he should be made the common butt, at which the shafts of their wits should be aimed.

They had plenty of opportunities of shooting the said shafts, for Pigeon exhibited an almost incredible amount of simplicity in all things connected with the sea. I do not mean to say, for one moment, that they were right in playing off their jokes on Pigeon. I have an especial dislike to practical jokes; and those I have generally seen carried out have been decidedly wrong, and very senseless and stupid, without a particle of wit.

They had not been long at sea when one night Pigeon was encountered walking the deck, and every now and then stopping and looking eagerly over the side.

"What do you see there?" asked Jack. "Anything out of the common way?"

"All those sparkles, what can they be?" exclaimed Pigeon, pointing to the flashes of phosphorescent light which played among the foam dashed off from the sides, and which were seen in the wake of the vessel.

Hemming came by at the moment. He had taken an especial dislike to the bully. "Those sparkles! don't you know what they are? I thought everybody did," he observed, in a tone of contempt. "Well, there's a Russian fleet just gone up through the Straits, and every man, woman, and child aboard them smokes, from the admiral to the admiral's baby, and those are the ashes out of their pipes and off the ends of their cigars. Why, that's nothing to what you sometimes see. If we were close in their wake, there would be light enough for us to see to steer by."

"Law, you don't say so!" exclaimed Pigeon. "I should have thought the water would have put them out."

"Not down in these latitudes. It's too warm for that," answered Hemming gravely.

Pigeon was seen, when he went into the gun-room, entering the remark in his notebook.

A few days after this Pigeon was walking the deck in solitary grandeur, when, as he passed the marine-sentry at the gangway, of course no notice was taken of him. Now he had observed that, on certain occasions, the sentry presented arms to the officers. This he had taken into his head was in consequence, not of their rank, but of their being gentlemen. He therefore thought that the same respect ought to be shown to him. Instead of complaining to the officers or to the captain, when he would have been well laughed at, he thought fit to take the law into his own hands, and, walking up to the sentry, soundly rated him for his want of respect.

"And who bees you?" asked the sentry, cocking his eye—he was a wag in his way; "do you belong to the horse-marines, sir?"

"No, I do not; I am Mr Theophilus Pigeon, and you must treat me properly, or I shall report you."

"I thought as how you had drunk many a pint of Pigeon's milk when you was a baby," observed the marine, with perfect gravity.

Pigeon's measure had already been very accurately taken on board by the crew.

"Fellow, you are an impertinent scoundrel," exclaimed Pigeon. "What's your name?"

"Mum's the word," answered the marine, with perfect gravity.

"Ah! you think I am not up to you, do you?" cried Pigeon, glancing at the marine's musket. "I see it where you forgot that it was, ha! ha!"

It was some time before Pigeon could find the first lieutenant to make his report. In the meantime the sentries had been changed.

"I am sorry, Mr Pigeon, that you should have received any impertinence from any of the people on board," said the first lieutenant kindly. "Can you describe the man!"

"Why, he had a red coat and white belt," etcetera, etcetera.

"I am afraid that won't help us," said the first lieutenant, laughing.

"Ah! he thought himself very clever; but I know his name, I saw it on his musket. It was Tower!" exclaimed Pigeon triumphantly.

A general laugh followed this announcement, for Tower is the name engraved on all Government arms issued from the stores in that ancient fortress of London.

He used to find his way into the midshipmen's berth and to make himself quite at home, occupying the space which, as Hemming observed, a better man might fill. Various devices were made to get clear of him. One of the officers had a horn with which he now and then startled the silence of the decks—a practice, by-the-bye, rather subversive of discipline. One day, while Pigeon was in the berth, the horn was heard to sound.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Hurrah! the mail coach come in from Sicily," exclaimed Jack, starting up and rushing out. "Come along, it's a sight worth seeing. You'll have letters by it to a certainty, Pigeon."

Away rushed Pigeon up on deck, while Jack, amid the laughter of the rest of the occupants, returned to the berth. The captain and several of the gun-room officers were on deck, when Pigeon made his hasty appearance, and hurried eagerly to the side.

"What is the matter, Mr Pigeon?" asked Captain Lascelles.

"The mail from Sicily! the mail from Sicily!" ejaculated Pigeon. "Has it gone? Am I too late to see it?"

Even the captain could not help joining in the laugh which was raised against the once dictatorial bully of little boys at school.

"Oh, you have not missed it," said Mr Thorn. "Go down to the berth again, and say that we will call you when it heaves in sight."

More mystified than ever, Pigeon returned to the berth, when he was welcomed with shouts still more vehement than those which had received him on deck. The place he had left was occupied, and no one offered to make room for him, or asked him to sit down—a pretty strong proof that he was not wanted. Such is the deserved fate of school bullies when they get into the world, and have their measures properly taken. Still the midshipmen had not done with him. Quirk, the monkey, had remained, on his good behaviour, part and parcel of the crew. For the sake of the men, with whom he was a decided favourite, any slight misdemeanours which they could not contrive to hide were generally overlooked. Quirk occasionally paid a visit to the midshipmen's berth, where he sat up at table cracking nuts, "evidently under the impression," as Jack observed, "that he is one of us." Quirk had soon struck up a friendship with the bear, who was a very tame beast, and could play almost as many antics as he could, only in a more sedate way. Wherever Quirk went, Bruin would endeavour to follow; and one day, while the midshipmen were at dinner, the latter, led by the monkey, was seen approaching the berth. Nuts and biscuits were held out. They were easily tempted in. Room was made for them, and they were regaled to their hearts' content on all the delicacies of the season which the men could produce.

"We'll have them again, and we'll have a friend to meet them," exclaimed Jack.

"A bright idea!"

"Who?" was asked.

"Pigeon," said Jack; and so it was settled.

That afternoon Mr Pigeon received a note written on pink scented paper, to the following effect:—

"The gentlemen of the midshipmen's berth request the pleasure of Mr Pigeon's company at dinner, to meet two distinguished foreigners, in every way worthy of his acquaintance and friendship."

Pigeon asked the gun-room officers whether he ought to accept the invitation.

"Certainly, it will be an insult if you don't," was the answer.

They might possibly have suspected that a joke was brewing, but they said nothing. The dinner-hour on the next day arrived. The berth was kept as dark as possible, and when Pigeon presented himself at the door he was ushered in in due form, and with unusual politeness handed to the upper end of the berth.

"Dinner!" cried the caterer. "Bear a hand, boy."

The midshipman's boy, who had been standing against the door, grinning from ear to ear, had to decamp.

"Before the soup comes, Mr Pigeon, let me introduce our other guests— Senor Don Bruno, who is on your right side, and Monsieur de Querkerie, whom you will find on your left. Manners makes the man, and as their manners are unexceptionable, I hope that you will consider them as men, and treat them, as men should men, with due civility."

The screens by the side of the berth were at this instant withdrawn, when Pigeon beheld a bear sitting on one side of him, and a monkey on the other, both dressed with huge shirt-collars, large ties, and broad ribbons across their breasts. Astonishment, rage, and fear struggled within for the mastery.

"Don't be alarmed at their looks, my dear sir," said Hemming. "There are no better behaved gentlemen on board. Allow me to help you to soup. Rogers, you take care of Monsieur de Querkerie; Thompson, see to Don Bruno."

This was a necessary caution, for the monkey gave signs that he was about to thrust his paw into Pigeon's plate, which act would have belied the assertion just made in his favour, and would certainly not have been pleasant to the human guest. Bruin, who had a handful of hard biscuit before him to munch, was behaving himself very well. Hemming kept serving out the soup with the greatest gravity amid roars of laughter, not a little increased by Pigeon's perplexed countenance. What to do he could not decide. He felt that a joke was being played off on him, but he was too much afraid to resent it, or show his indignation, and therefore he did the very best thing he could have done under the circumstances, he went on eating his soup without speaking. All might have ended well had not Quirk, not understanding fully the proprieties of the dinner-table, darted out his paw and seized a lump of potato from the soup-plate. Pigeon could not stand this, but shoving the denied plate from him, he made a dash with his spoon at Quirk's face, almost knocking some of his teeth down his throat. The monkey retaliated, and not without Jack's utmost exertions could quiet be restored; I will not say peace or harmony, because that was out of the question.

"I beg pardon, Mr Pigeon, we thought you might like the companionship of our foreign guests, as you are supposed to have some qualities in common," said Hemming, in a grave tone. "But as you do not appear to admire their society, pray remove to the other side of the berth, where you will be more at your ease."

Pigeon was glad enough of an excuse to get away, but he was puzzled to settle whether it was safer to pass the bear or the monkey. At length he decided to get behind the former. At that moment Bruin took it into his head to lift up his huge back, and catching poor Pigeon between the legs, he sent him right into the middle of the table, with his head into the soup-dish, while Quirk, delighted at the opportunity, caught hold of his heels, and getting a kick, sprang in revenge on the part of his body most exposed to attack, which he bit till the wretched victim roared with pain, and Jack had by main force hauled him off. Hemming and Murray, with others, as soon as their laughter would allow them, dragged Pigeon off the table, apologising with tears in their eyes for the mishap which had occurred. Pigeon's first impulse was to roar out for a basin and towel to wash off the soup from his face; and when his features were made clean, though earnestly pressed to come back, nothing could persuade him to take his seat till Bruin and Quirk were removed from the berth. In truth the mess were not sorry to get rid of them, for to more than one sense they were somewhat unpleasant companions. All things considered, it was voted that Pigeon had really behaved very well, and the lesson he had received did him a great deal of good, and while he remained on board he seemed to think very much less of himself. I cannot defend the conduct of Hemming or Jack, or any one concerned in the affair, but my belief is, that had Pigeon not spoken disparagingly of Adair, whose memory Jack and Murray so fondly cherished, the trick would not have been played. Malta was visited, so were the Ionian Islands, and the frigate clove through the waters of the Levant.

"A sail in sight to leeward, sir," said Jack, entering the cabin, cap in hand, one afternoon, while the captain was at dinner.

"What does she look like?" asked Captain Lascelles, applying his table-napkin to his mouth, and finishing his glass of wine as a man does when he has to move in a hurry, while he fumbles in his waistcoat-pocket for his toothpick case.

"The first lieutenant thinks her a heavy frigate, or a line-of-battle ship," answered Jack, "and she is not English."

In a moment the captain was on deck, and taking an earnest look at the stranger through his telescope. At that period all captains of English men-of-war had received orders to be very circumspect with regard to their conduct towards French ships, for there was no doubt that France was seeking cause by which she might pick a quarrel with England. The Racer had now been cruising for some time, and Captain Lascelles could not tell whether the stranger in sight might or might not prove an enemy with whom he might speedily be engaged in deadly strife. The wind was from the north, and the African coast, a thin blue line, was rising to sight in the horizon. The helm was instantly put up, and all sail made in chase.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Jack, rushing into the berth, and throwing up his cap; "there's a chance of a brush this time and no mistake. The gun-room officers say that the French are certain to be at war with us by this time. They are going to help Mehemet Ali, so if the stranger is not a Frenchman, she is pretty certain to be an Egyptian, and either one or the other will do."

The information was received in the berth with general satisfaction. Only one person heard it with dismay. That was Pigeon. He turned very pale.

"What shall I do? Where shall I go?" he exclaimed. "I didn't come here to fight. Couldn't I be put on shore?"

"No, but you can keep below and help the doctor, where you may be of use and out of harm's way, if we don't go down, or blow up during the action," said Murray, with no little disdain in the tone of his voice.

"Oh! oh!" groaned Pigeon. "Go down, or blow up! Oh, dear!"



CHAPTER SIX.

PADDY ADAIR, HURRAH!

The beautiful frigate looked like a vast cloud of snowy whiteness, as, with studding-sails alow and aloft, she swept proudly along over the blue waters of the Mediterranean in chase of the stranger. The latter had been standing to the eastward; but seeing herself pursued, she also altered her course, and ran off before the wind towards the land. Night was coming on, and it was very important to get up with her, near enough to ascertain her character, to prevent her escaping, should such be her design, in the dark. Every one was on deck or in the tops, looking out at the stranger, and those considered themselves fortunate who could command the use of a spyglass. One person—bully Pigeon—was below, and he sat quaking on a chest in the orlop deck, where he had been told that he would be least likely to have his head shot away.

"I am a non-combatant, you know. It would be very wrong in me to expose my life," he observed with a trembling lip. "If I was one of you, of course I would do my duty as bravely as anybody; but as I am a civilian, and am come aboard for my health, I think it is my duty to take care of myself."

"Oh! of course," was the reply; "so precious a person should run no risk of losing his valuable life."

"Oh, I wish poor Adair were with us," exclaimed Jack. "He did so wish to see a real fight; and to have to go out of the world without having been in one was very trying." Jack spoke just as his feelings for the moment prompted him, without much consideration, I suspect.

"Do you know, Rogers, that since we escaped in so wonderful a way from drowning, I have more than once thought that perhaps some of the people of the Onyx may have been saved," observed Murray. "I do not say that I have any great hopes on the subject, but still I cannot help thinking that it is possible."

"I'm afraid not, though; we should have heard of them before now," replied Jack. "But if anybody escaped, I would rather it were Paddy Adair than any one else."

Their conversation was cut short by that rolling sound of a drum which makes the heart of every true man-of-war's man leap with joy. It followed the captain's order to the first lieutenant, "Beat to quarters." What magic was there in the sound of those words! In an instant every one, from the first lieutenant to the smallest powder-monkey, was in full activity. Bulkheads were knocked away, firescreens were put up, the gallery fire was extinguished, the magazines were opened, powder and shot were handed up, the small-arms were served out, the men buckled on their cutlasses, and stuck their pistols in their belts.

Although Captain Lascelles fully believed that he should gain the victory, he was too good an officer and too wise a man not to take every possible means to secure it. It was soon evident that the Racer was coming up hand-over-hand with the chase, and before long it was clearly made out that she was, at least, a fifty-gun ship. She showed no colours, and as to her nationality opinions were divided. Some thought she was French; but then in opposition to this conjecture, it was asserted that a French fifty-gun ship was not likely to run away from a frigate, whereas a Turk or an Egyptian was very likely indeed to do so. The officers on board them were generally very inefficient, while a total want of discipline prevailed.

"That craft ahead must have a very bad conscience, or she would not be in such a hurry to get out of our way," observed Jack; "she's a Turk, or I am a Dutchman."

"So the captain thinks, which is fortunate, or you might have to turn into a Dutchman, or else break your word," observed Murray.

"I wish that he were a Frenchman. I should so like to have a tussle with him," said Jack. "Let people talk as they will about liberty, equality, and fraternity, I agree with my father, that the French never will like the English till they have taught us to eat frogs, and have thrashed us on a second field of Waterloo, and I hope that time may never come."

"I hope not either," said Murray. "But I have no wish to go to war with France or Frenchmen. If they are bad friends, they are worse enemies, and not to be despised, depend on that; no people could have fought better than they did during the last war."

"That is the reason I should like to fight them again," exclaimed Jack. "What is the use of fighting with people who can't fight?"

Murray laughed at Jack's style of reasoning. He had not arrived at the conclusion which an older man might have reached, that fighting under any circumstances is a dreadful business, and that the person who gives the cause for the fight does a very wicked thing, utterly hateful in the sight of God. Never let that truth be forgotten.

Darkness was now rapidly coming on. The stranger could just be seen looming through it. Captain Lascelles felt pretty confident, however, that he should come up with her before she could make her escape. Night at last settled completely down over the ocean; still she could be seen, though very indistinctly. On the two ships flew before the breeze. At length the master, who had been examining the chart in his cabin, came up to the captain.

"We are drawing in very near to the coast, sir," said he. "It will be safer to keep the lead going."

"But where the ship ahead can float so can we," observed Captain Lascelles.

"She may manage to run in between reefs on which we may strike. Never let us trust to the leading of an enemy, sir," was the answer.

"You are right, master, you are right!" exclaimed Captain Lascelles, in a tone of warm approval. "Send a hand with the lead into each of the chains. We'll run no risk of casting the ship away."

Soon the voices of the leadsmen were heard through the still silence of night, as the gallant frigate clove her way through the calm waters.

"By the deep nine," sang out one on the starboard side.

"By the mark seven," was soon afterwards heard from the man in the port chains.

"Quarter less six," was the next shouted out.

"We are shoaling our water rapidly," observed Captain Lascelles to the first lieutenant. "Stand by to go about."

All eyes had been fixed on the dark mass ahead. Onward it seemed to glide through the darkness. Every one felt certain that their eyes did not deceive them. There still appeared, they all believed, the sails of the stranger, a huge towering pinnacle reaching to the sky. Yet so near the ground were they that it was dangerous for the frigate, though of course drawing much less water, to stand on.

"Was she a ship of mortal fabric?" some of the more superstitious among the seamen began to ask.

As they looked, the tall pyramid seemed to rock, and then suddenly to dissolve into the air. A sound, at the same time, came from the southward, as if of breakers dashing on a rocky shore.

"Hands about ship," shouted the captain, with startling energy.

The cry was repeated by the first lieutenant, and quick almost as the answer of an electric message, the boatswain's whistle uttered the well-known call along the decks. Round came the ship, and when the eyes of those on board were turned to the south, not an indication could be discovered of the ship which had thus far led them in the chase.

"We'll keep her off and on during the night," said the captain to the first lieutenant.

"At daylight we will stand in, and see what has become of her. There is little doubt, however, that she has gone on shore. I trust, as there is not much sea on, that the people will contrive to save themselves."

At this time the Sultan of Turkey was running a great risk of losing the greater part if not the whole of his dominions. Mehemet Ali was one of the most remarkable men who have appeared in the East during this century. Although of the lowest origin and unable to read, having become a soldier, he raised himself by his talents and intrigues to the highest rank in the Turkish army. Being sent to Egypt, he deposed the ruler of that province, and became pacha in his stead. He even showed that he allowed no sentimental scruples to prevent him from accomplishing any object on which he had set his heart. Believing that the Mamelukes might be as troublesome to him as they had often proved to the Sultan, he invited 500 of them to a feast, and then had all of them murdered with the exception of one, who escaped by leaping his horse over a high wall. The idea was simple and very oriental. He might have made them his friends, but he thought that might be too difficult a task, so he chose the other alternative. Now Mehemet Ali thought that it would be much pleasanter to be an independent sovereign than a tributary to the Porte, so he threw off the Turkish yoke. Then he thought that he might as well rule over Syria also, and he accordingly marched his army there and took possession of the country. His ambition increased with his conquests, and at last he resolved, if he could, to mount the throne of the caliphs. He was backed up in all his proceedings by the French, who knew that if he succeeded they might easily take possession of Egypt on some excuse or other; while the Russians were well pleased to let him play his game, because they knew that the Sultan might call them in to his assistance, and thus they might get hold of Constantinople. The Egyptian army in Syria was commanded by Ibrahim Pacha, the adopted son of Mehemet Ali. He advanced his victorious standard to within a short distance of Constantinople; but then, instead of pushing on and occupying the city, he delayed till the Russians had reached the shores of the Bosphorus. He in consequence thought it wiser to enter into a treaty by which he secured the Pachalic of Syria and Adana as well as that of Egypt for himself and his father. At first the tribes inhabiting Syria welcomed him as their deliverer, but they soon found that they had not changed rulers for the better, and that he fleeced them as much as had the pachas appointed by the Sultan. They therefore entreated the Sultan to take them under his protection. He accordingly sent an army to their relief. It was now that England and Austria thought it time to interfere. Neither of them wished the Egyptians to succeed, because the Russians would have had an excuse for interfering. The Russians did not want anybody but themselves to interfere, but when the English, Austrians, and Prussians came forward, they were compelled to put a finger into the pie, to counteract the efforts of the French. The French would gladly have aided the Egyptians for the sake of gaining a footing in the country, but as they were not ready for war they thought it wiser to refrain from all open acts of hostility. The Turkish army advancing sustained a defeat from the Egyptians, while their fleet, which had been sent to the Dardanelles, sailed for Alexandria, and joined that of Mehemet Ali.

The four powers accordingly entered into an agreement to make him withdraw his army from Syria, and offering him the ultimatum of the hereditary sovereignty of Egypt and the possession during his life of Saint Jean d'Acre. If he refused, he was to have only the government of Egypt, and the four powers were to compel him by force to accept this arrangement. The sturdy old pacha, however, backed by France, resolved to hold out. A British squadron was therefore sent to blockade the ports of Egypt and Syria, with a few Austrian and Turkish ships, Russia undertaking not to take possession of Constantinople. The French had not been consulted in the matter, and had they felt themselves sufficiently strong, there is little doubt that they would have supported Mehemet Ali, at the expense of a war with England. Thus much was at the time known to Captain Lascelles. Much circumspection was therefore required, for it was difficult to understand who were friends and who foes. The French commanders might have received secret orders to attack the English after a certain day; the Egyptians might at any moment do so, if they felt themselves strong enough to be assured of victory; while it was more than probable that any Turkish ships might have gone over to the Egyptians, and have thus become enemies. Few of the officers turned in that night; they were all anxious to ascertain who the stranger was, and what could possibly have become of him. Captain Lascelles took the frigate in as close as he could venture, and though each time every eye on board was turned eagerly towards the shore, not a sign of a ship could be discovered. At length daylight dawned, and a white sandy shore was seen, with bare dark rocky heights rising behind it. "There she is! there she is!" broke from many voices as all the glasses on board were directed towards the shore. There lay stranded the huge black hull of a ship, her masts gone by the board, and her rigging hanging down in confused masses on either side, while the white surf dashed up around her. What had become of the people it was impossible at that distance to say. Captain Lascelles, who was on deck, ordered the ship to be hove-to.

"I wonder what is next to be done," said Jack to Murray; "I hope if the boats are ordered away you and I will have to go in them." Very soon the order was given. "Barge and first and second cutters away!" Jack and Alick belonged to the two latter. They hurried to get them ready. The crews were armed, and a three-pounder was placed in the bow of each boat. Mr Thorn had charge of the expedition. It was not expected that there would be any fighting, but as a precautionary measure it was necessary to be armed. No one now supposed that the stranger was French. There could be little doubt she was either Turkish or Egyptian, but why she had run on shore it was difficult to say. The idea was that she had been purposely lost. In high glee at the thoughts of an adventure, the party shoved off from the frigate. Mr Thorn was directed to ascertain the character of the ship, and to render assistance if it was required. A light breeze from the westward enabled them to stand in under sail towards the shore. As they drew towards the wreck, they looked anxiously to ascertain her condition. She was on shore about a quarter of a mile from the beach. All the masts were gone, some of the guns had been hove overboard, others had their muzzles still appearing through the ports. Many of the crew were on board, but a considerable number had made their escape to the shore, their red caps and petticoat trousers showing that they were either Turks or Egyptians. As the boats got close up to the ship, the people on board began to gesticulate furiously, and it seemed with no very friendly intentions. Of this they gave proof, for they got some smaller guns on the quarter-deck slewed round, and began firing away at the boats. Fortunately their gunnery was very bad, or they might have cut them to pieces. On seeing this, Mr Thorn made a white pocket-handkerchief fast to a boat-hook, and waved it towards them, but the barbarians seemed to hold a flag of truce in very little respect, as they continued firing as before. Just then, Rogers and Murray observed a young officer; he seemed to rush up from below, and furiously attack the men with his sword, driving them from the gun. He then leaped upon the taffrail and waved his hand to them and shouted, but they were too far off to hear his voice.

"Murray, Murray, who do you think that is?" shouted Jack.

"I know who it is like," answered Murray. "It is like—"

Just at that moment a terrific roar was heard. The entire vast mass of the wreck seemed to be lifted up bodily into the air. Up, up it went. Lurid flames and dense volumes of smoke burst forth, and then down came the huge mass shattered into a thousand fragments; beams, and guns, and planks, and human bodies, and the various contents of the ship all mingled together. A cry of horror escaped from the boats' crews when they saw what had occurred.

"Pull for your lives, my lads," shouted Mr Thorn. "Give way now."

The men, recovering from their amazement, required no second order, but pulled away as hard as they could from the burning wreck. Happily they were no nearer, for in an instant afterwards down came burning fragments of the wreck, covering the sea far and wide, the terrific shower almost swamping the boats. Although several pieces struck them, no one was materially injured. The whole occurrence occupied not a minute of time. The ship, however, continued burning furiously, and the guns in the forepart of her, which appeared not to have been blown up, as the flames reached them went rapidly off, one after other, sending their shot whizzing away on either side.

"Some of the poor fellows may have escaped with their lives, and may be struggling in the water. Can't we go back and try to pick them up?" said Jack to Hemming, who commanded his boat.

"A right notion—that we ought, Rogers," answered Hemming, who was too high-minded even to refuse to take a suggestion offered by a junior. Hemming made the proposal to Mr Thorn, and back dashed the boats, not a man in them recollecting even for a moment that the people they were now so eager to save, had but a few minutes before been most unwarrantably firing away at them. Jack too had a strange feeling that he knew the appearance of the young officer who had interposed in their favour, but still it was too vague to allow him to ground any strong hopes on it. Murray had, however, conceived the same idea. With what eagerness they pulled about looking out for their struggling fellow-creatures! First they hauled on board a stout Turk, who did not appear to be much the worse for his flight and ducking, except that he was, not unnaturally, in a dreadful fright. If he had conceived the idea that he had already entered Paradise, the big-whiskered jolly tars, instead of the houris he might have expected to welcome him, must quickly have shown him his mistake. He looked up with a stare of astonishment as he was placed at the bottom of the boat. Another poor fellow had had his leg almost blown off, but still he clung on to a piece of plank. Hemming quickly formed a tourniquet with a handkerchief to stop the bleeding, while a savage-looking fellow was being hauled in, who even then cast a scowl of defiance and hatred at his preservers.

"You might as well have said thank you, instead of looking so glum, old boy," observed one of the men as he placed him alongside his companions.

"There's a young Turk hanging on to a spar away there, and waving to us," cried Jack, putting the boat's head in the direction he indicated. "Give way, my lads."

Murray's boat was pulling in the same direction. Jack got up first to the young Turk, as he called him, and almost tumbled headlong into the water in helping him on board.

"It is, it is," he shouted; "it is himself! I thought so."

"Who? who?" asked Murray eagerly.

"Paddy Adair?" cried Jack, almost bursting into tears. "It's Paddy himself."

"Paddy Adair, hurrah! hurrah!" was echoed from all the boats.

"Paddy, my dear boy, where have you come from?" asked Hemming, with unwonted gentleness in his tone. Jack had got Terence's hand, and would not let it go.

"The last place I came from was the poop of that Turkish ship which is burning away there; then I went up into the air, I believe; and lastly, you have hauled me out of the water; the remainder of my adventures would take some time to tell, so you had better try and pick up any more of my shipmates who may still be alive. There were a good lot of us altogether turned into sky-rockets."

Paddy had not forgotten his habit of joking. The boats altogether picked up some fifteen or twenty Turks, whom they landed on the beach, with the exception of those who had been injured, whom in mercy they conveyed on board the frigate. A considerable number had been drowned from leaping off the forecastle when the ship was in flames, and being unable to swim. Altogether a very large number of the crew must have been lost.

"But, Paddy," said Jack, looking earnestly up in Adair's face, while he still held his hand, "you haven't really turned into a Turk, have you?"

"Give me a boiled leg of pork, and some pease pudding, and prove me," answered Terence, laughing. "No, indeed; these wide nether garments and this red cap are the chief Turkish things about me, and the latter I thus gladly cast from me, and as soon as I can get a pair to supply their place, I'll gladly throw the others after the cap." Paddy as he spoke hove the fez into the sea with a look of intense satisfaction. "If you knew what I have gone through, you would not be surprised at my pleasure of getting rid of everything to remind me of it," he observed.

The boats made the best of their way out to the frigate, to report what had occurred.

"What have you been about? what has happened?" were the questions eagerly asked, as they got alongside and handed up the wounded Turks.

"Why, we have been and found Paddy Adair," shouted Jack, unable any longer to restrain his feelings.

The eager faces of several midshipmen were seen at the gangway, looking out to ascertain the fact by ocular demonstration.

"It's quite true, Paddy Adair is found, Paddy Adair is found," exclaimed a dozen voices in joyful tones. The words were taken up, and echoed along the deck, "Paddy Adair is found; hurrah for Paddy Adair!" Especially vociferous were his own messmates, who were delighted to get him back again, and happy at the same time to have an excuse for using their lungs. The boats were hoisted up, and Paddy, having changed his wet Turkish costume for a dry midshipman's uniform, was sent for into the cabin to give an account of his adventures to Captain Lascelles. He, however, reserved a still more detailed account to give to his messmates in full conclave assembled in the midshipmen's berth. The only person on board who had not heard of Adair's arrival was Pigeon. He had laid down after breakfast on a sofa in the first lieutenant's cabin, and gone fast asleep. About luncheon-time he awoke, and rubbing his eyes sat up, and feeling hungry after all the excitement and fright he had gone through, arose and went into the gun-room. Finding no one there, he bethought him that he would go and honour the midshipmen with a visit, and talk of what he would have done if the ship had gone into action, and his services had actually been required. He was, somewhat to his surprise, welcomed with a cordiality to which he was not much accustomed. In a short time the conversation turned to the loss of the Onyx, and to the character of Paddy Adair. One said one thing of him, and one or two hazarded slightly disparaging observations. The bait took.

"Oh, he was, I remember, always a foolish dunder-headed Irishman," observed Pigeon; "I could thrash a dozen such fellows as he was. No one thought anything of him at school, I remember."

"Oh, bully Pigeon, oh, bully Pigeon, that you know right well wasn't the case," exclaimed Paddy, popping his head in at the door of the berth.

Pigeon looked up at hearing the voice, and turning very pale, while his countenance exhibited a look of intense horror, fell back in a fainting fit, which afforded an excellent excuse to several of the youngsters for throwing half a dozen tumblers of water over him. Some of the water was cold, and some was rather hot, but the effect was the same. He got a thorough ducking, and after spluttering not a little, and coughing as the water dashed into his mouth, he quickly recovered his senses. It was some little time, however, before he could be convinced that Paddy Adair in propria persona sat before him. Harmony was soon restored, and Paddy assured him that he did not intend to frighten him so much, and that he hoped he would forgive him. Never was a happier party assembled in the berth at dinner than on that occasion. Paddy's health was drunk, and he was warmly congratulated on his escape and return on board, even by the seniors of the mess.

"And now, Adair, let us hear all about it," said Hemming, when the cloth had been removed and the young gentlemen were discussing their walnuts and wine.

"Why, it is not a very long story," observed Paddy, "for do you see most of the events took place in a somewhat rapid way, my last skylark especially. However, you shall hear. We had just got on board the Onyx, and the commander had ordered the boats to be hoisted up, when, as the men were engaged in the operation, the squall struck her, and over she went in a moment—not a rope parted, nor a sail, I believe— just like a nine-pin knocked over by a ball. I was still in the captain's gig on the weather side. Feeling her going, or rather gone, I believe it was more from fright or instinct than from any exercise of my reasoning powers, I seized a couple of oars under my arms, slid overboard down her bottom, and struck out with all my might away from the sinking hull. I never struck out so hard in my life, for I felt that I was swimming for my life. I believe that I gave myself a shove off with the oars, which helped me rapidly to increase my distance from the brig. Suddenly I felt myself drawn back, and I thought that I was going to be sucked under water—so I was for a short time; but I held a tight grasp of the oars, and once more quickly rose to the surface. When I looked round there was not a sign of a brig. I shouted, no one answered. I could see no one floating alive on the spot where the trim craft had lately glided in all her pride and beauty. I was alone on the dark troubled sea. The foam dashed in my face, and the waves tumbled me about terribly, and I thought more than once that I should have to let go and sink with the rest. I felt very miserable and very sorry that so many fine fellows had lost their lives, for I was too certain that I alone had escaped, and then I began to think how grateful I ought to be that I had been so mercifully preserved. I can't talk about that; but I wish you fellows to know that I do not think or feel lightly on the subject, that is all. Night was rapidly coming on, my prospects were far from pleasant, and somewhat limited too, as I could only just make out the tumbling seas on either side of me. I felt pretty certain that the frigate would come back to look after the brig; but scarcely hoped that such a speck as I was would be seen. Still I determined to keep up my spirits, and to hang on to the oars as long as I could. Sometimes I put my legs up over them, and thus I both changed my position and floated very comfortably. Perhaps an hour had passed after the brig had gone down—it appeared as if several had elapsed—when I felt a sort of drowsiness come over me. Suddenly there appeared right over me a big dark object. I guessed that it was the bow of a vessel. I sang out with all my might. She was very nearly running me down. As she did not quite run over me, it was fortunate that she came so close. A rope was hanging over her side; I found my hands grasping it. It must literally have been towed over me; I clutched it with all my might, and found myself hauled up on the deck of a low latine-rigged craft running under her foresail before the squall. The crew had red caps on, and loose trousers, and talked a language I could not understand, so I concluded that they were Turks or Moors, or Egyptians; they were very good-natured though. They took me below and gave me some arrack, which was very nasty, and they took off my wet things, and rigged me out in one of their own suits. When I explained that my ship had gone down, they understood me perfectly. Next they made me eat some lumps of meat off a skewer, with some rice and biscuit, and then signified that I might lie down on a mat in the cabin and go to sleep. I did not awake till morning. I wanted to put on my own uniform again, but they would not give it to me, and I began to fear that they were going really to turn me into a Turk.

"For several days we sailed on. Where we were going to I could not make out, for they would never let me see their compass. At last we made the land somewhere on the coast of Syria, I am pretty certain; and, running in, we found a fifty-gun ship, brought up in a roadstead a couple of miles off the shore. The Mistico went alongside and stores of all sorts and provisions were hoisted up out of her, and then without my leave being asked I found myself transferred, like the rest of the bales of goods, to her deck. I had not had a particularly pleasant time of it among the very dirty crew of the Mistico, so I thought that I might have changed for the better. I was much obliged to them, however, for saving my life; so we parted very good friends, and when the little craft shoved off, I waved them an affectionate farewell. I soon found that I had not much improved my condition. The larger the ship, the greater was the amount of dirt and disorder. No one knew their duty, at all events no one did it. How they managed to exist a day without being blown up or foundering, I do not know. They were constantly smoking with the doors of the magazine open and ammunition scattered about, and night and day with every prospect of a squall, the lower deck ports were ever left open. I got hold of some of the officers, and tried to show them the danger they were running; so they rubbed their caps about their heads and opened their eyes and tried to look very wise, and followed my suggestions. But the next day things were as bad as ever. However, when they found out that I was up to a thing or two, they insisted on making me an officer. What rank I held I never could tell. I only knew that everybody obeyed me, and that none of the officers interfered with my commands. This complaisant conduct did not arise so much from respect for me, as that they might save themselves trouble. I never met with men who seemed to hate it so much, from the captain to the youngest powder-monkey. My great difficulty arose from no one understanding a word I said, nor could I understand anybody. Still, we got on very well under ordinary circumstances by signs. At last I happened to go forward and to utter a few words of English. One of the men forthwith pricked up his ears.

"'Beg pardon, sir, you'd find an interpreter convenient, I think,' he said, touching his cap.

"'What, are you not a Turk?' said I.

"'I am not and I am,' he answered; 'I have become a Turk.'

"'You are a renegade, in truth,' said I.

"'Your honour has hit it,' he replied.

"I am sorry to say he was an Irishman.

"'But I'm ready to serve a countryman, and I think I can help you at a pinch.'

"'I shall be much obliged to you,' I answered; and from that time forward Pat Hoolan became my interpreter and right-hand man.