"Yes, exactly—that is just my idea," observed Mr Nott. "We could not have hit upon a better."

The sail was consequently not taken off the brig, which, under other circumstances, it ought to have been; and on she stood, the breeze gradually increasing, and the weather becoming more and more unsettled. Mr Nott watched the schooner. It was very clear that she was gaining on the brig.

"It is very probable that we shall have to fight, after all," he said to himself. "So, as the Captain always makes a speech to the crew before a battle is begun, I think I ought to do so."

Accordingly, calling all hands aft, he cleared his throat and began. "My lads," he said, imitating as well as he could the tone and manner of Captain Garland, "we shall very likely have to fight that fellow astern of us. You'll do your duty like true Britons, I know you will—you always do. We will take her if we can. If not, we'll try to get away from her; but if we cannot do either, we'll blow up the brig and go down with our colours flying. I don't think that it matters much which. Both are equally glorious modes of proceeding."

True Blue was very much taken with the speech, and told Harry Hartland that it was just what he thought they ought to do; but Tim Fid said that he hadn't made up his mind which he should prefer. Blowing up was very fine to look at, but going down must be a very disagreeable sensation.

Paul, meantime, took off his hat to reply. "As you wish it, Mr Nott, we'll fight the brig to the last, and maybe we shall knock away some of her spars and get off. I don't think we shall have much chance of taking her, and as to blowing up or going down with our colours flying, if the enemy send their shot through her sides, between wind and water, and won't take us on board, we can't help ourselves; but perhaps, sir, you'll just think over the matter about blowing up. It would be like throwing our best chance away. I for one don't wish to see the inside of a French prison; but you know, sir, even if we are taken, we may have a chance of being retaken before we get into a French port, or of escaping even when we are there. Now, if we blow ourselves up into the air, we shall have no chance of either."

"Very true, Pringle, very true," answered the midshipman; "I did not think of that. Well, we won't blow ourselves up; and if we find our brig sinking, we'll strike our flag and yield. There'll be no dishonour in doing that, I hope. Several brave officers have been obliged to strike to a superior force at times; so it will be all proper, but it's what the Frenchmen are more accustomed to do than we are."

There was no sun visible, so Mr Nott looked at his watch and found that there would be scarcely more than an hour of daylight.

"If we can but keep ahead, we shall do," he remarked.

Paul agreed with him in this, but suggested that, by cutting away the stern-boat, and by making two temporary ports in her stern, they might fight a couple of long brass guns which they had found on board. This idea was immediately adopted, and all hands set to work to get the guns and tackle ready, while Paul, with an axe, soon made the required ports. He was not very particular as to their appearance. With the aid of the timber-heads, there were already a sufficient number of ringbolts to enable them to work the tackles.

All this time the schooner was gaining on them. Scarcely were these two guns fitted and loaded than the schooner yawed, and a shot came skipping along the water and disappeared close under their counter.

"Not badly aimed," observed True Blue, "but the range is too great. Paul, don't you think that these long guns would carry farther?"

"Wait a bit, Billy," answered Paul; "we haven't much powder or many shot to spare. We won't throw away either till she gets a little nearer. Then you shall have it all your own way."

True Blue, with this promise, was eager for the Frenchman to get nearer. There had been no doubt that such the stranger was. Her own colours could not be seen; but, to make sure, Mr Nott first hoisted a French flag. No notice was taken of this. Then he hoisted the English ensign over the French, and immediately the stranger yawed and fired a bow-chaser.

"You'd think it well to mystify them a little, sir," observed Paul. "We should do that if we hoisted the French flag over the English."

This was done, and for some time no other shot was fired. Still the stranger seemed to be not altogether satisfied. The breeze was freshening all this time, and at length it became evident that the brig was carrying much more canvas than was necessary, unless she was trying to get away from the schooner. The stranger seemed to think so, at all events, and without yawing fired a shot as a signal to the chase to heave-to.

This was what no one but the prisoners had the slightest wish to do; and so, as it was now getting dark, both flags were hauled down and not again hoisted.

"Now, Billy," said Paul, "let us see, my boy, what you can do."

True Blue was in his glory. He had a gun almost entirely to himself. Tim Fid acted the part of powder-monkey; while he and Hartland had charge of one gun, and Mr Nott, helped by Paul, worked the other. Paul, indeed, stepped from gun to gun as his services were required. Now they set to work in right earnest and began to blaze away as hard as they could, while Tom Marline stood at the helm and steered the flying brig. He had no easy work either, for, with the immense press of canvas she had on her and the strong breeze, it was with difficulty he could keep her on her course.

True Blue was delighted to find that his shot, at all events, reached the enemy.

"Paul, Paul, that shot hit her bows—I saw the splinters fly from them!" he exclaimed while he and Harry were again loading.

"All right," answered Paul, who likewise saw the effect of the shot. "Keep on like that, and you'll soon bring down some of the chap's spars."

Meantime, Mr Nott was working away manfully with his gun. He felt rather vexed to think that a ship's boy was a better shot than himself; only just then, as he wished to preserve the brig, he was thankful to any one who could aid in accomplishing that object. Now and then the schooner fired; but as at each time, in order to do so, she had to yaw and then keep away, she fired much less frequently than the brig. The Frenchmen probably also judged that, as they were rapidly coming up with the chase, it was not worth while to throw their shot away. As the darkness increased, the wind got up more and more, and so did the sea, and all around looked very gloomy and threatening.

"We must shorten sail, sir!" exclaimed Tom Marline at last, who had been looking up ever and anon at the bending, quivering spars.

"Never mind, my man," said Johnny Nott with the greatest coolness, "the brig will do that for herself better than we can. We have enough to do just now to try and wing the enemy."

There seemed a fair chance of their doing this. The guns were excellent, and True Blue's gunnery was first-rate. But as the brig tumbled about and pitched more and more, he found greater difficulty in taking aim. Still he persevered, and so did Mr Nott; and as it was far too dark for them to see the effects of their shot, they both hoped that they were doing a great deal of damage. One thing concerned Paul exceedingly. He feared that, the instant they hauled their wind and got out of their previous course, the masts would go over the side.

Still True Blue, regardless of everything else, kept firing away as fast as ever. What did he care what might happen besides just then? There was a fine brass gun he had been ordered to serve, and there was the enemy. The scud was flying rapidly overhead, the wind howled, the thunder roared, and flash after flash burst forth from the sky, mocking the tiny light of the British guns. The whole ocean was of a dark slaty hue, with white, hissing, foaming crests dancing up as far as the eye could reach, while many came hissing up and almost leaped on board. The brig went tearing along, her masts bending and writhing as if they were about to be torn out of her. Suddenly there was a terrific crash, and both the tall masts leant over and went by the board. Fortunately they fell forward and none of the party was hurt.

"Well, we have shortened sail with a vengeance!" cried the midshipman, even at that moment unable to restrain a joke, though he felt in no joking mood. "Never mind the guns now. Let us clear the wreck. Perhaps the Frenchman may pass us in the dark."

This was a wise thought, as it was the best thing that could be done. With axes and knives they set energetically to work to cut the ropes which kept the masts and spars thumping against the vessel's sides like battering-rams.

While thus engaged, True Blue exclaimed:

"See, see!—what is that?"

All hands looked up. The dark outline of the schooner was visible flying by them. Just then a vivid flash of lightning darted from the sky. There was a loud crackling noise heard even amid the raging of the rising tempest; the flame ran down the schooner's mainmast. Shrieks reached their ears; there was a loud roar like a single clap of thunder without an echo; the whole dark mass seemed to rise in the air, and here and there dark spots could be seen, and splashes could be heard close to the vessel, and for a few seconds flames burst forth from where the schooner had been seen; but in an instant they disappeared and not a trace of her could be discovered. The dismantled brig floated alone, surrounded by darkness on the wild tumultuous ocean.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

The dismasted brig lay tumbling about, utterly helpless. Neither moon nor stars were visible. The seas came roaring up around her, now throwing her on one side, now on the other. Her stern-boat had already been cut adrift.

Not long after the disappearance of the schooner, a sea struck her quarter and carried away one of the boats on that side, and at the next roll the one on the opposite quarter went.

Mr Nott, with Paul and Marline, and the three boys, were clustered aft.

"Paul," observed True Blue, "the Frenchman and black can't play us any tricks now. They run a great chance of being drowned where they are; couldn't we cast them loose and let them come aft here?"

"Right, Billy," answered Paul. "We should be merciful even to our enemies. I had forgotten them."

Mr Nott offering no objection, Paul and True Blue worked their way to the waist, where the two men sat bound. Paul loosened the Frenchman, and True Blue took out his knife and cut the lashings which bound the black; and then, assisting him up on his legs, pointed aft, and by a push in that direction intimated that he had better get there as soon as possible.

Billy then bethought him of the wounded prisoner in the dark damp forepeak, all alone, expecting every instant to be his last. "I shouldn't like to be left thus," he thought; "I'll go and see what I can do for him."

Without, therefore, telling Paul what he was going to do, he worked his way gradually forward, grasping tightly on by the belaying-pins and cleats made fast to the bulwarks.

Just as he got close to the fore-hatch, he saw rolling up, just ahead of the vessel, what looked like a huge black mountain with a snowy top. It was a vast sea appearing still larger in the darkness. On it rolled, roaring above the bows of the brig, and then with a terrific crash down it came on her deck, threatening to swamp her and sweeping everything before it.

True Blue's foot had been pressing against a ringbolt: a rope was made fast to it. He threw himself flat down, grasping the ring with one hand and making several turns with the rope round the other. He felt the breath almost pressed out of his body with the weight of water rushing above him; and then he fancied that the vessel herself was going down and would never rise again.

The rush and the roaring sound of water passed on. He felt the bows of the brig rise once more; he lifted himself up on his knees and looked over his shoulder. The sea had made a clean sweep, and had carried away the caboose, the boats on the booms, and every spar remaining on deck, besides, as it appeared to him, a considerable portion of the larboard bulwarks.

His anxiety was for his shipmates. How had they withstood the rush of waters? He shouted; but though his voice was loud and shrill, the howling of the tempest and the dash of the sea were louder. He tried to penetrate the darkness, but he could distinguish nothing beyond half the length of the ship. His heart sank lower than it had ever done before at the thought that his faithful kind guardian might be torn from him for ever.

Having started to visit the wounded Frenchman, he wished to do so before he tried to find his way aft again to ascertain the state of the case. He lifted the hatch off and dived below. All was dark. There were no means of procuring a light in the place.

"I say, Monsieur Frenchman, how are you?" he began, groping his way towards the bunk where the prisoner lay.

A groan showed that the man was not dead. True Blue remembered that there was some food in one of the lockers. Taking some sausages and biscuit, he put them into the man's hand. "Here, eat; you're hungry, I daresay."

"Merci! merci! de l'eau-de-vie, je vous prie, donnez-moi de l'eau-de-vie."

Billy, on searching about, had found a can with a little water at the bottom of it, and a flask of spirits; so, guessing what the man wanted, he poured some of the spirits into the can and gave it to him.

The draught must have been very refreshing, for the Frenchman's expression of gratitude knew no limits. He made True Blue understand that he had better take something himself. This, as he was very hungry, he was nothing loth to do; but he had not eaten much, and had only taken one pull at the grog can when he recollected his friends. He felt that he could eat nothing more until he had ascertained their fate.

"If they are alive, they'll want to eat," he said to himself. "They can't be gone—no, no; I won't believe it."

So he filled his pockets with as many sausages and as much biscuit as they could carry, and, shaking the Frenchman by the hand to show that he would not be forgotten, he ascended the ladder, closed the fore-hatch behind him, and began his perilous journey towards the stern. The sea on one side, he discovered, had made so complete a wreck, that he knew, should he slip, there would be nothing to prevent his going overboard.

The greatest caution therefore was necessary. He could feel the ringbolts, but he could not see them, or indeed any object by which to secure himself. On hands and knees he crept on, feeling his way. He had got as far as the main hatchway when he saw another sea rising. He clung, as before, to a ringbolt. Over came the water with a furious rush, which would have carried any one unprepared for it away. He felt his arm strained to the utmost; still he had no notion of letting go. When the sea had passed over, the vessel was steadier for an instant than she had been. He took the opportunity to make a bold rush to the nearest part of the bulwarks remaining entire. He now got aft with less difficulty. His heart felt lighter when he saw the group he expected standing there; but Paul didn't come forward to welcome him. Instead, he heard Marline's voice say, "Rouse up, Pringle; rouse up, mate—the boy is safe."

True Blue was in an instant kneeling down by the side of his guardian. "I am here, Paul, I am here; Billy True Blue all right, godfather!" he exclaimed, putting his mouth to Paul's ear.

"What has happened? Is he hurt?" he asked.

"He has hurt his side and ribs, and we are afraid he has broken his leg," answered Marline. "We all thought that you were gone—washed clean away, boy; but he wouldn't believe it, and started off to look for you, when a sea took him and washed him back in the state you now see him. He was nearly carried overboard, and we have had hard work to save him."

True Blue forgot everything else but the state of his friend, till at length Paul came to himself and comprehended what had occurred. The knowledge that his godson was safe seemed to revive him. Billy then remembered the provisions he had got in his pocket, and served them out among his companions, the two prisoners getting an equal share.

Dawn came at last, and presented a fearful scene of wreck and confusion: the dark-green seas were rising up on every side, topped with foam, which came down in showers on the deck, blown off by the fierce wind; while the lately trim brig lay shattered and dismantled, and, too evidently, far deeper in the water than she had been before the gale.

Not a boat remained; there were not even the means of making a raft.

"But what can we do, Paul?" asked True Blue, thinking how sad it was that his fine old friend should thus ingloriously lose his life. Paul smiled as he answered:

"Trust in Providence, boy. That's the best sheet-anchor a seaman can hold to when he's done his duty and can do no more. There are others as badly off as we are, depend on that."

When his godfather had ceased speaking, True Blue cast his eye around in the faint hope that some aid might possibly be at hand. As he did so, he saw that several pieces of wreck were floating round the brig. As the light increased, he thought he saw the form of a man on one of them. He looked again; he pointed the spar out to the rest: they were of the same opinion. The man was alive, too. He saw the wreck, he waved to them, he turned his face with a look imploring assistance.

"Here, Tom, make this rope fast round me; I think that I can reach that poor fellow. The next send of the sea will bring him close alongside."

Though True Blue was a first-rate swimmer for his age, Marline demurred and appealed to Pringle.

"He is only a Frenchman and an enemy, after all," argued Marline.

"He's a fellow-creature, Tom," answered True Blue. "Here, make fast the rope. I am sure I can save him."

"Will you let him go, Paul?" asked Tom as a last resource.

Paul raised himself on his arm.

"If the lad thinks it's his duty to try and save the man, yes," he answered firmly. "If he loses his life, it will be just as a true British sailor should wish to lose it. Go, boy; Heaven preserve you."

There was an unusual tone of solemnity and dignity in the way Paul spoke as he grasped his godson's hand. The rope had by this time been properly adjusted. The piece of wreck with the man on it was drifting nearer and nearer. The man on it again waved his hand. True Blue waved his in return. "He is alive!—he is alive!" he shouted.

"If go you must, now is your time," shouted Tom.

True Blue leaped off the deck into the raging sea. Boldly he struck out. Down came a sea thundering towards him, hurling the spar with it. There was a shriek of horror: all on board thought he was lost. He had only dived to avoid the sea. Then up again he was on the other side, clinging on to the spar, with his knife in his mouth, ready to cut the lashings which secured the stranger to it. It was done in a moment. He had him tight round the waist.

The stranger is now seen to be a boy not bigger than himself. This makes his task easier. The spar drifts away; the two are in the water together.

Tom and Mr Nott, and the other boys, and the Frenchman and the black, haul away, and, with some severe bruises, rescuer and rescued are safely brought on deck.

"It's Sir Henry, I do believe!" shouted Tom, hauling in the rope.

"Why, Elmore, my dear fellow, is it you?" exclaimed Johnny Nott, taking the hand of the lad, who, with True Blue, had been dragged aft and placed in as safe a spot as the deck afforded. "We thought you were a Frenchman."

"I scarcely know who I am. I know that I have to thank Freeborn for my preservation," answered the young baronet.

He took True Blue's hand.

"I do thank you heartily, Freeborn," he said with much emotion.

The excitement of the first minutes of his wonderful preservation over, young Elmore felt the effects of the exposure to which he had been subjected so long, and sank almost helpless on the deck.

"He wants food," said Tom. "I wish that we had some." True Blue instantly volunteered to try and go and get it; but of this the rest would not hear.

Marline said he would go; but he was wanted to look after the rest, and take care of poor Pringle, who was utterly unable to help himself. Neither the Frenchman nor the black volunteered to go. The truth was, they dared not face the danger.

"I'll go if I may!" exclaimed Tim Fid. "If I am not strong, I'm little, and a shrimp can swim where a big fish would be knocked to pieces."

"Stay, though," said True Blue. "Here, make fast the rope round you. If you are washed away, we can haul you in by it. It served me a good turn, it will now serve you one."

"A good thought," said Tim, fastening the rope round his waist, and away he went. He worked his way forward, as, True Blue had done; but just as he was in the middle of the waist, a sea swept the deck, and would have carried him off had it not been for the rope round him.

He was hauled back not a little bruised. Still he insisted on making another attempt. Having kicked off his shoes, away he went. The deck was clearer than usual of water. He ran and leaped along, and before another sea came had reached the fore-hatch. His first care was to make the rope fast to the windlass. Then he slipped off the hatch and descended. He soon again appeared, and succeeded in reaching the after part of the vessel with a good supply of food and a can.

"There," he said, "that's full of honest grog; it will do all hands good. But, I say, we must try and get the poor Frenchman up out of his bunk. He'll be drowned in it if we don't in a short time."

It was agreed that the Frenchman and the black ought to perform the duty; but it was not till they had taken several pulls at the grog can that they seemed to understand what was required of them. Even then Mr Nott had to show a pistol, and hint that they should not remain where they were if they did not go and help the wounded man.

The rope which Fid secured made the task comparatively, easy. Led by the little fellow himself, at last they set off. When they got below, they found so much water that the poor fellow was very nearly washed out of his berth. They managed, however, to get him on deck. To carry him aft, however, was the most difficult part of their task. As it was, the Frenchman, in his anxiety to take care of himself, let go his hold of his wounded countryman; and had it not been for Fid and the black, he would have been washed overboard.

At length they reached the stern in safety. The account Fid gave, however, of the quantity of water below, was truly appalling. They could not hope that the brig could swim many hours longer, and should she go down, they had nothing on which to float; the boats were gone, not a spar remained. There were the hatches, certainly; but there would scarcely be time to construct a raft out of them.

Mr Nott had, during this time, been attending to his messmate. It was some time before young Elmore again revived.

Nott was curious to know how his messmate had come to be on board the schooner which had chased them.

"I will tell you in a few words," said Elmore. "We had not parted company with the frigate many hours before a strange sail hove in sight. As I knew that we could gain but little by fighting should the stranger prove an enemy, we did our best to run away. The prize, however, sailed badly, and the stranger, which turned out to be a large schooner, sailed remarkably well. We had a couple of guns; so we fired away with them as long as we could till she ranged up alongside, when a number of men leaped on our decks and we were obliged to give in. I was carried on board the schooner; but the rest of the men were left on board the brig to work her, so that I hope that their lives may have been preserved. She was a privateer out of Saint Malo. Your determined attempt to escape excited their anger to the highest degree; and at the very moment that the vessel was struck by lightning, from the effects of which she foundered, they were swearing vengeance against you, wherever you might be. Their terrific shrieks and cries, as one after the other they were overwhelmed by the waves, made my heart sink within me. Still I determined not to yield as long as my strength endured, and I struck out for dear life. I soon found myself close to a shattered spar, to which was attached a quantity of rigging. I climbed up and lashed myself securely to it. Thus I passed the night. I more than once thought I saw the dismantled brig; and you may fancy my joy when I caught sight of her at dawn. Still I scarcely expected that anybody on board would be able to render me assistance; and when I saw that all her boats were gone, I almost gave up hope. I have not thanked Freeborn as I wish; but I have those at home who will thank him still more, if we are allowed to reach dry land, and I am sure our Captain will thank him too."

While the lads had been talking, the appearance of the sky gave evident signs that the gale was breaking. Still the sea ran very high, and the waterlogged wreck laboured in a way which made it doubtful whether each plunge she made would not prove her last. She sunk lower and lower, and it was very evident that in a short time no part of her deck would be tenable. Anxiously, therefore, all eyes were looking out for a sail. Each time that the brig rose to the top of a sea, they all looked out on every side, in the hope of catching a glimpse of some approaching vessel; and blank was the feeling when she again sunk down into the deep trough and they knew that no help was near.

Suddenly True Blue shouted out, "A sail! a sail!—she is standing towards us!" He had seen her before, but was uncertain which way she was steering, and he had not forgotten a caution given to him by Paul— never to raise hopes when there is a likelihood of their being disappointed.

The sea had for some time been decreasing; but there was still so much that a boat would run considerable risk in boarding the wreck. It was soon proved that True Blue was right. The stranger was steering towards them. On she came. She was a brig, and showed English colours.

A cheer rose from the deck of the waterlogged vessel. The brig came down in gallant style; but she gave evident signs that she also had been battling with the gale. Her bulwarks were shattered, and not a boat was to be seen on board. Her flag showed her to be a packet. A fine-looking man stood in the main-rigging.

The midshipmen shouted, "We are going down, we fear. Can you render assistance?"

"Ay, ay—that I will!" answered the master of the packet. "I will run alongside you. Stand by to leap on board!"

The least experienced of the party saw the great risk the packet was running by this proceeding; for a send of the sea might easily have driven the wreck against her and stove in her upper works. This consideration did not deter the gallant sailor from his act of mercy. He made a signal as he approached, that he would pass the wreck on the larboard quarter. The Frenchman and the black were told that they must help their wounded shipmate. Tom and True Blue begged that they might take charge of Paul, while the rest were to leap on board the instant the vessels' sides touched. The midshipmen and the two boys wanted to stay and help Paul, but he would not hear of this.

"No, no," he answered; "if we talk about it, no one will be saved; and if I am left on board, I shall be no worse off than we all have been till now."

The packet tacked. Now she stood down towards the wreck. The sides of the two vessels touched. The midshipmen and two boys leaped on board. So did the Frenchman and the black; they made a pretence of helping their comrade, it seemed. They placed him on the bulwarks of the wreck, and then, when safe themselves, they were about to regain their hold of him; but the poor wretch lost his balance, and with a cry of horror fell between the two vessels. The two men looked over the side with stupid dismay, abusing each other; but their unfortunate comrade had sunk for ever from their sight.

Meanwhile Tom and True Blue had made an attempt to lift Paul on board the packet. Had her crew known his condition, they probably would have been ready to render assistance; as it was, his two friends, fearful of letting him slip between the two vessels, lost the moment as the brig glided by, and all three were left on the sinking wreck.

"Why have you done this?" said Paul when he saw that the packet had shot ahead. "You should have left me, boys."

"Left you, Paul!" exclaimed True Blue with an emotion he rarely exhibited. "How can you say that? Please Heaven, we'll save you yet."

There was no necessity for hailing the packet. They knew well that the two midshipmen would make every effort in their power to render them assistance. Once more the brig tacked and stood towards them; but the position of the wreck had changed, and it was impossible to run alongside.

Again and again the gallant Captain of the packet tried the manoeuvre without success. At last, passing close to them, he shouted, "Lads, I will heave you ropes; you must make yourselves fast to them and jump overboard: it's your only chance."

"Tom, you must do it!" said True Blue, turning to Marline. "It would kill Paul; I'll stay by him. We shall be taken off when the weather moderates; and if not, I'm ready to go down with him."

Paul heard this. "True Blue, I'm your guardian, and you must obey me!" he said almost sternly. "The ducking won't hurt me more than others. Maybe it may do me good. So, I say, make the rope fast round me, and help me overboard when you two go, and I shall not be the worse for it."

Thus commanded, True Blue could no longer refuse obedience. Down came the packet towards them. The ropes were hove on board.

"Tom, you can't swim—go by yourself. I'll stay by Paul!" exclaimed True Blue as he was securing the rope. "Help me to launch him first. Away, now!"

Paul was lowered into the water, True Blue keeping tight hold of the rope just at his waist with his left hand, while he struck out with his right. Thus the two together were drawn through the foaming sea towards the packet. Arrived at the vessel's side, True Blue was of the greatest service to Paul in protecting him from the blows he would otherwise have received by the sea driving him against it.

Right hearty was the welcome they received from all hands, especially from the gallant commander, Captain Jones.

Scarcely had the packet got a hundred fathoms from the brig when she was seen to make a plunge forward. The two midshipmen were watching her, expecting to see her rise again. They rubbed their eyes. Another sea rolled over the spot where she had been, but no sign of her was there.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The Chesterfield packet was bound from Halifax to Falmouth. Fortunately among the passengers was a surgeon, who was able to attend to Paul's hurts. He set his leg, which was really broken, as were one or more of his ribs.

The passengers, when they heard from Sir Henry Elmore and Johnny Nott of True Blue's gallantry, were very anxious to have him into the cabin to talk to him, and to hear an account of his adventures. The young midshipmen, knowing instinctively that he would not like this, did not back the passengers' frequent messages to him; besides, nothing would induce him to leave the side of his godfather, except when the doctor sent him on deck to take some fresh air.

A strange sail was seen on the starboard bow. In a short time she was pronounced to be a ship, and, from the whiteness and spread of her canvas, a man-of-war. Elmore and Nott hoped that she might be their own frigate. They thought that it was a latitude in which she might very likely be fallen in with. Of course, till the character of the brig had been ascertained, she would bear up in chase. They expressed their hopes to Captain Jones, and begged him to steer for her.

"Were I certain that she is your frigate, I would gladly do so; but as you cannot possibly recognise her at this distance, we shall be wiser to stand clear of her till we find out what she is. I will not alter our course, unless when we get nearer she has the cut of an enemy."

The midshipmen, having borrowed telescopes, were continually going aloft to have a look at the stranger.

"I say, Elmore, it must be she. That's her fore-topsail, I'll declare!" exclaimed Johnny Nott. Elmore was not quite so certain.

After a little time, they were joined by True Blue.

"Paul Pringle, sirs, sent me up to have a look at the stranger," he remarked.

"I am very glad you have come, Freeborn," said Sir Henry. "Your eyes are the best in the ship. What do you make her out to be?"

True Blue looked long and earnestly without speaking. At last he answered, in an unusually serious tone:

"She is not our frigate, sir—that I'm certain of; and I'm more than afraid—I'm very nearly certain—that she is French. By the cut of her sails and her general look, she puts me in mind of one of the squadron which chased us off Guernsey."

True Blue's confidence made the midshipmen look at the stranger in a different light, and they finally both confessed that they were afraid he was right. Captain Jones agreeing with them, all sail was now crowded on the brig to escape.

In spite of all the sail the brig could carry, the frigate was fast coming up with her.

"I wish that we could fight," said Johnny Nott to Elmore. "Don't you think that if we were to get two of the guns aft, we might knock away some of her spars?"

"I fear not," said his brother midshipman, pointing to the popguns which adorned the packet's deck. "These things would not carry half as far as the frigate's guns; and, probably, as soon as we began to fire she would let fly a broadside and sink us."

"Too true, Sir Henry," observed the brave Captain of the packet, who stood on deck surrounded by the passengers, many of them asking all sorts of useless questions. His countenance showed how distressed he was. "In this case I fear discretion will form the best part of valour."

Captain Jones cast anxious glances aloft, as well he might, and the midshipmen and True Blue eyed the frigate; and Nott turned to his messmate and said, in a doubting tone, "Elmore, what do you think of it?"

The other answered sadly. "There is no doubt of it. She is coming up hand over hand with us. Freeborn, I am afraid that I am right."

"Yes, sir," answered True Blue, touching his hat. "She is going nearly ten knots to our six."

"Then she will be up with us within a couple of hours at most," said the young midshipman with a deep-drawn sigh.

The breeze kept freshening rapidly. The brig carried on, however, till her royal masts went over the side, and her topgallant-masts would have followed had the sails not been handed in time; and now all expectation of escape was abandoned.

Still Captain Jones held on his course, remarking, "It will be time enough to heave-to when her shot comes aboard us."

The crew went below and put on their clean things and a double allowance of clothing, as well as all their possessions which they could stow away in their pockets. When they returned on deck, they certainly did look, as Johnny Nott observed, "a remarkably stout set of Britons."

Sir Henry borrowed a midshipman's hat and dirk, as he had lost his own; and Nott, who had a few sovereigns in his pocket,—a wonderful sum for a midshipman,—divided them with him. The Captain insisted, as the last act of his authority, that all the passengers should remain below, during which time the ladies, at all events, employed themselves in imitating the example of the sailors.

At last a shot was heard; then another and another followed, and then a whole volley of musketry.

Captain Jones kept calmly walking his deck till the French frigate began to fire. He then looked round: there was no ship in sight, no prospect of escape; so, with a sad heart, hauling down the British ensign, he ordered the topsails to be lowered and the courses brailed up, and thus waited the approach of the enemy. What was the astonishment and rage of all on deck to have a volley of musketry fired right down on them, with the coolest deliberation, from the forecastle of the frigate as she ranged up alongside, and then, passing ahead of the brig, rounded-to near her.

"Ah, betes! we will teach you dogs of Englishmen to lead a French ship such a chase as you have done when you have no chance of escape!" shouted some one from the quarterdeck.

A bullet passed through Elmore's hat; another struck Captain Jones on the side, but in the excitement of the moment he did not perceive that he was hurt; while a third grazed True Blue's arm, wounding the skin and making the blood flow rapidly. Without moving from where he stood or saying a word, he took off his handkerchief and began to bind it up, Harry Hartland and Tim Fid hurrying up with expressions of sorrow to help him.

"Never mind this—it's nothing," he said, the tears starting into his eyes. "But it's the French prison for Paul I'm thinking of. It will break his heart. And those brutes may take me from him."

The frigate now lowered all her boats, and sent them, with their crews armed to the teeth, on board the brig. The Frenchmen jumped on her deck as if she had been a pirate captured after a desperate fight and long chase.

Scarcely a word was spoken—not a question asked; but officers and men were indiscriminately seized by the collars and hurled into the boats, some of the French officers striking them with the flat side of their drawn swords, and at the same time showering down the most abusive epithets on their heads.

Captain Jones, whose appearance and bearing might have saved him from insult, was seized by several men and thrust, with kicks, into the nearest boat.

Just as the boats came alongside, True Blue had gone below to remain with Paul Pringle. The Frenchmen soon followed him. He tried to show by signs that his godfather was very much hurt. This was evident, indeed. At first the men who came below were going to let him remain; but the order soon reached them that all the English were immediately to be removed from the brig. Not without difficulty, True Blue got leave to assist in carrying Paul, aided by Tom Marline, who had fought his way down below to his friend, and the black cook. With no help from the Frenchmen, Paul was at last placed in a boat, with True Blue by his side.

The passengers were scarcely better treated than were the seamen. The ladies and gentlemen were bundled out of the vessel together, and were allowed to take only such articles as they could carry in their hands. Some of the gentlemen who spoke French expostulated.

"Very good," answered the Lieutenant. "You have chosen to lighten the vessel of all public property, which would, at all events, have been ours; we must make amends to ourselves by the seizure of what you call private property."

As True Blue sat at Paul's head, his godfather looked up. "Ah, boy!" he said with a deep sigh, "this is the worst thing that I ever thought could happen to us; yet it's a comfort to think that it isn't our own brave frigate that has been taken, and that a number of our shipmates haven't been struck down by the enemy's fire. But it's the thoughts of the French prison tries me. Yet, Billy, I don't mind even that so much as I should have done once. You are now a big strong chap, and you won't let them make a Frenchman of you, as they might have done when you were little, will you?"

"No, Paul; they'll have a very tough job if they try it on—that they will," answered True Blue with a scornful laugh which perfectly satisfied his godfather.

"What are the brutes of Englishmen talking about?" growled out one of the Frenchmen. "Hold your tongues, dogs."

Neither Paul nor True Blue understood these complimentary remarks; but the tone of the speaker's voice showed them that it might be more prudent to be silent.

As soon as Captain Jones and his mates and the two midshipmen appeared above the gangway of the French frigate, they were seized on by a party of seamen, who threw them on the deck, knocked off their hats, out of which they tore the cockades, and, with oaths, trampled them beneath their feet.

In vain Captain Jones in a manly way appealed to the good feelings of his captors. In vain Sir Henry Elmore repeated what he said in French. The Frenchmen were deaf to all expostulations. The second Captain of the frigate stood by, not only superintending, but aiding in inflicting the indignities with which they were treated.

They were next dragged off and brought into the Captain's own cabin. Here they expected to be better treated; but no sooner did the Captain enter, than, walking up and down and showering on them the most abusive epithets, he ordered his men to take away their swords and dirks, and to strip off their coats and waistcoats, exclaiming as he did so:

"No one on board La Ralieuse shall wear the livery of a despot—one of those hateful things, a King. Bah!" The Captain and his second in command, having thus vented their rage and spite, ordered the men to carry off their prisoners. The Captain and the young officers were therefore again unceremoniously dragged out of the cabin and forced down below into a space in the hold, dimly lighted by a single lantern. There they found the greater part of the crew already assembled, bursting with rage and indignation at the way they had been treated.

Meantime the boat which contained Paul Pringle, with Tom Marline, True Blue, and the other two boys, arrived alongside the frigate. The French sailors were going to hoist up Paul with very little consideration for his hurts, when, in spite of their black looks, Tom shoved in his shoulder, vehemently exclaiming:

"Avast, ye lubbers! Can't you see that the man has his ribs stove in? Send down proper slings to lift him on deck, or out of this boat he don't go while I've an arm to strike for him."

True Blue had continued to support Paul's head in his lap. The Frenchmen did not understand this demand, and might have proceeded to force Tom up the side had not Pringle himself interfered.

"Don't fall out with the men, Tom; there's no use grumbling with them. Do you and Billy help me up. I've still some strength left in me."

Aided thus, Paul reached the Frenchman's deck, the first he had ever trod except as a victor. No sooner were they there than Tom was seized on, as had been the other seamen, and was dragged off to be abused and kicked down into the hold with the rest. No sooner, however, did some of the Frenchmen attempt to lay hands on Paul, who had been placed sitting up against a gun, than True Blue threw himself before him, and, with a blow on the chest of the man who was about to drag him along, sent him reeling across the deck. Tim Fid and Harry, who had been left at liberty, on this flew to his support, and, standing on either side, literally kept the rest at bay.

True Blue said not a word, but his lips quivered, and, had he held a sharp cutlass in his hand, he would evidently have proved no contemptible opponent.

At first the Frenchmen were amused, and so were a number of the French boys belonging to the ship, who quickly assembled at the spot, especially devoting their attention to jeering and quizzing Fid and Harry.

Their good humour, however, was rapidly vanishing, and they would have probably proceeded to disagreeable extremities had not the surgeon of the ship appeared on the deck. He was a gentleman and a royalist, and had been most unwillingly compelled to come to sea as the alternative of losing his head. His profession gave him some influence among the crew, which he exerted on the side of humanity. Seeing at a glance Paul's condition, he appealed to his countrymen, remarking that the Englishman must evidently be a good-natured person, or the boys would not be so ready to fight for him.

"Brave little fellows! They deserve to be well treated," he remarked. "And now do some of you help me to carry the old man below. He is not in a state to be left on deck. Any one of us, remember, may speedily be in a worse condition."

This appeal had the desired effect, and, the kind surgeon leading the way, Paul was lifted up and carried below to a side cabin on the orlop-deck. True Blue was allowed to remain with him.

The mode of proceeding on board the frigate seemed to True Blue like that of the very slackest of privateers; indeed, when he described what he saw to his godfather, Paul told him that even pirates could not carry on in a worse way.

Before long several of the crew looked in and attempted to speak English, but very seldom got beyond a few of the ordinary oaths so general in the mouths of seamen. At length a man appeared who had been in England as a prisoner during the last war, and could really speak enough English to explain himself. He asked them a number of questions, which either Paul or True Blue answered truly.

"And so," he said, "I hear from my compatriot that you belonged to the Ruby frigate. Ah! she was a fine ship, and her crew were brave fellows—they fought well. You have heard of her fate, perhaps?"

"No," answered Paul and True Blue in a breath. "What has happened to her?"

"The fortune of war, my friends," answered the Frenchman. "She fell in with our consort, La Nymphe of forty guns, and engaged her bravely for three hours. For which side victory would have declared is doubtful, when we appeared in sight. Just then, awful to relate, whether by design or not I cannot say, she blew up with a loud explosion, wounding and killing many on board La Nymphe. Not one man escaped of all her crew."

"Oh, mate, do you speak the truth?" exclaimed Paul, starting up and seizing the Frenchman by the hand.

"Why should I deceive you, my friend?" answered the republican, putting his other hand on his bosom. "I know how to pity a brave enemy, believe me."

Paul lay back on his bed and placed both his hands before his eyes, while a gasping sob showed how much True Blue felt the sad news.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

The account of the destruction of the Ruby soon spread among the English prisoners. At first the two midshipmen especially would not credit it; but the date of the alleged occurrence answered exactly with that of the day when Johnny Nott parted with her and saw her standing towards an enemy's ship, and heard the firing at the commencement of the action.

"They do not even boast that they took her, or that she had hauled down her flag before she blew up," he observed. "If they had done so, we might have doubted them. I'm afraid their account is too true."

"I am afraid so, indeed," responded Elmore mournfully; "so many fine fellows lost. Our brave skipper Garland, he is a public loss. They do not say that a single officer was saved."

Thus the midshipmen talked on. They almost forgot their own misfortunes and abominable ill-treatment while thinking of their friends. Some coarse bread and cheese was handed to them in a dirty basket, and water was the only liquid given them to drink; while at night no bedding nor the slightest accommodation was afforded them. In vain the officers pleaded. The men to whom they spoke only laughed and jeered at them, and poor young Elmore only came in for a greater share of abuse when by some means it was discovered that he was what they called an English aristocrat.

"Ah, milord!" exclaimed one fellow with a horrid grin; "if we had you in la belle France, your head would not remain long on your shoulders. We guillotine all such. It's the best way to treat them. They have trampled too long on our rights, to be forgiven."

The next morning the British seamen and officers were ordered up on deck, and, being placed near the gangway, were surrounded by a guard of marines with fixed bayonets. If they attempted to move from the spot, they soon had notice to go back again.

The prize had parted company, and they supposed had been sent into port; but the frigate herself stood away to the westward to continue her cruise. In spite of the general want of discipline, a very bright lookout was kept for any strange sail in sight. In the afternoon watch a vessel was seen to the southward, and the frigate bore up in chase. The stranger, on seeing this, made all sail to escape.

The French seamen pointed her out to the British. "Ah! ah! we shall soon have her!" they exclaimed. "See, the cowards dare not wait our coming up."

Meantime, Paul Pringle lay in his berth, pretty well cared for, and most devotedly watched by True Blue. Billy was advised by the kind doctor to show himself as little as possible, lest he should be ordered to join the rest of the prisoners. He occasionally, however, stole out, that he might ascertain for Paul in what direction the ship was steering, and what was taking place. It was towards the evening that he came quickly back and reported that he had seen all the prisoners hurried below on a sudden, and that the wind being from the westward, all sail had been made on the frigate, and that she had been put dead before it, having abandoned the chase of the vessel of which she had been in pursuit.

"What it means I don't quite know," observed True Blue; "but there's something in the wind, of that I'm pretty certain."

The tramping of feet overhead, the hurried passing of the crew up and down, showed Paul also that such was the case. True Blue was standing at the door of the berth when the surgeon came below, and, as he passed him, whispered, "Keep quiet with your friend, boy. The crew may not be in the humour to bear the sight of you." He did as he was advised for some time; but, peeping out, he saw the powder-boys carrying up powder and shot, and other missiles from the magazine, while the flurry and bustle increased, and he felt sure that the frigate was going into action.

"Paul, I must go and learn what it is all about," he said. "I suppose that we are coming up with the chase."

Paul, not supposing there would be any risk, did not prevent his going. He crept out quietly. Everybody was so busy that no one remarked him. He looked out at one of the bow-ports; but nothing was to be seen ahead. He glanced on the other side; not a sail was in sight.

He came back to the berth. "Paul!" he exclaimed joyfully, "it is not that the frigate is chasing, but she is being chased. She seems to be under all sail, and in a desperate hurry to get away."

"We've a chance, then, of not having to see the inside of a French port," observed Paul Pringle. "That's a thing to be thankful for; but, Billy, it's sad news we shall have to take home about Abel, and Peter, and the rest. I must go and break it to Mrs Ogle and Mrs Bush, and their children. It will make my heart bleed—that it will, I know."

Paul and True Blue talked on for some time, as very naturally they often did, about their old ship and shipmates, till their well-practised ears caught the sound of a distant gun.

"That's right aft!" exclaimed Paul. "It comes, I doubt, from the leading ship of the pursuing squadron. I pray that the frigate may not escape them."

"I must go on deck and see how many ships there are," said True Blue. "The Frenchmen can but kick me down again, and I can easily jump out of their way."

He had not gone long when down he came again, panting as if for want of breath. "Oh, Paul!" he exclaimed, "I thought to have seen two or three frigates or a line-of-battle ship at least; but, would you believe it, there is but one frigate, more like the Ruby than any ship I ever saw; and if I didn't know for certain that her keel was at the bottom of the Atlantic, I could have sworn that it was she herself. It quite took away my breath to look at her, and then when the Frenchmen saw me looking at the stranger, they hove their gun-sponges and rammers at me, so I had to run for it to get out of their way."

"Billy, I wish that I could have a look at this stranger the Frenchmen are so afraid of," said Paul. "If she is a frigate I have seen before, I should know her again."

"I don't mind the Frenchmen. I will go and have another look at her," answered True Blue. "We shall soon be within speaking distance of her guns."

As he spoke, he kept moving about the berth like a hyena in its cage; and soon, unable any longer to restrain his impatience, out he darted and unimpeded reached the deck. The pursuing frigate ran up the British colours, and opened her fire with a couple of bow-chasers. She had good reason to do so, for the Frenchman was steering to the southward and land was ahead. One of the shot struck the counter of La Ralieuse, the other passed a little on one side. True Blue gazed earnestly and long at the English frigate. He was recalled in a disagreeable way to a sense of where he was by feeling the point of a cutlass pressed against his back, and, looking round, he saw a seaman with no pleasant looks grinning at him and pointing below.

What the man said he could not make out. He got out of the fellow's way and hurried below. "Paul, I am right!" he exclaimed. "She is either the Ruby or another frigate so like her that you couldn't tell one from the other."

The next ten minutes were passed in a state of great anxiety, and when True Blue again looked out, he reported that the Frenchmen were shortening sail preparatory to commencing action. The crew were all at their stations. An unusual silence reigned on board. The Captain was making a speech. It was about liberty, equality, and fraternity, and the bonnet rouge was displayed.

The cheers were cut very short by a broadside from the English frigate, the shot of which crashed through the Frenchman's sides, tore up the planks, and carried off the heads of two or more of the cheerers.

"That was a right hearty English broadside!" exclaimed Paul. "I could almost fancy I knew the sound of the shot. I wish that you and I were with them, Billy, instead of being cooped up here."

The English had not the game all to themselves. The French almost immediately replied with considerable spirit to the compliment they had received.

"They are having a running fight of it—yardarm to yardarm, as far as I can make out," said Paul. "Well, that's the right way to go about the business. A brave fellow commands the English frigate, whatever she is."

"She's no bigger than the Frenchman," said True Blue.

"Maybe not, Billy," observed Paul, lifting himself up on his elbow. "It isn't the size of the ship—it's the men on board her makes the difference. Depend on't, those in the ship alongside us are of the right sort and properly commanded."

Presently there was a louder noise on deck than usual, and evident confusion. True Blue could contain his curiosity no longer, and before Paul could stop him, he had darted out of the berth.

"Heaven will guard him," said Paul to himself; "but he runs as great a risk as any of these Frenchmen."

True Blue was soon back. "The English frigate has shot away the Frenchman's fore-topmast and foreyard, and she's up in the wind, and the Englishman is ranging ahead to rake her!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "We shall have it in another half minute. And do you know, Paul, the more I look at the stranger, the more I fancy she is like our brave little Ruby. Here it comes."

True enough, the shot did come, thick and fast—not one seemed to have missed—right into the bows of La Ralieuse. Some seemed to be sweeping her main, others her upper deck, or flying among her masts and spars, while more than one struck between wind and water. At the same moment shrieks, and cries, and groans, arose from all parts of the ship, mingled with shouts and oaths, levelled at the heads of their enemies.

"Keep quiet, Billy," said Paul. "The French, if they saw you, might do you an injury, boy. We shall soon have the flag of England flying over our heads."

As True Blue peeped out as before from the berth, he saw numerous wounded men brought into the cockpit, where the surgeons were already busy at work with their instruments and bandages. More and more were brought down. Further supplies of shot were being carried up, and the rapid passing of the powder-boys to and from the magazine showed that there was no expectation of bringing the contest to a speedy termination.

Nearly all this time the Frenchman's guns kept up an incessant roar. They ceased only now and then, when, as Paul conjectured, the English frigate was passing either ahead or astern of them, so that they could not reach her.

Now La Ralieuse had to stand the effects of another raking broadside. This time it was astern, and came in at the after-ports, tearing away the head of the rudder, and sweeping both decks from one end to the other. Thirty men or more were killed or wounded as they stood at their guns by this one broadside. True Blue ran up on deck to take a look round and saw them stretched on the decks in ghastly rows, pale and still, or writhing in their agony. The mizen-topmast was also gone, and the rigging of the mainmast seemed terribly cut up.

He rapidly again dived below to report what he had seen.

"That's enough, boy!" exclaimed Paul in a voice of triumph. "She cannot get away from the English ship, and sooner or later our brave fellows will have her. Ah, there they are at it again. Hurrah for Old England!"

"Old England for ever!" shouted True Blue. He might have sung out at the top of his voice, for amid the terrific din of battle the Frenchmen could not have heard him.

Presently there was a loud crashing sound, a severe shock, and the frigate heeled over with the blow, which made her quiver in every timber.

"Oh, boy!" cried Paul, seizing True Blue's hand in his eagerness, "they are going to board, and here I lie with my ribs stove in. If I could but handle my cutlass, we could be on deck and join them; but no—stay below by me, Billy. They'll make short work of it. Hark! those are true British cheers. They have the Frenchman fast. There they come! They are swarming over the side and through the ports! There's the sound of the cutlasses! Cold steel will do it! Those are the Frenchmen's pistols; our fellows know what's the best thing to use. They've gained a footing on the deck—they'll not lose it, depend on that. There! they shout again! The sounds are just above our heads. Hurrah for Old England! The Frenchmen are crying out, too. It is—it is for quarter! They'll get that, though they don't deserve it. On come our brave fellows! There's the tramp of their feet—the clash of the cutlasses! Nearer they come! They're overhead! They've gained the main deck! Hark! Shut to the door and hold it tight, boy. Down come the Frenchmen, helter-skelter! They're flying for their lives! They're coming down by dozens, twenties, fifties! They've given way fore and aft! All hands are shouting for quarter! Hurrah, boy! Hurrah, True Blue! That cheer, I know it. The Frenchman's flag is down! Once more we've the glorious British ensign above our heads! Here come our fellows, open the door and hail them!"

True Blue did as he was bid; and at that instant who should appear, cutlass and pistol in hand, but Abel Bush, Peter Ogle, and a dozen or more, whose well-known faces proclaimed them part of the crew of the Ruby. Great was their surprise at finding Paul and True Blue there, and loud and hearty were the greetings which hurriedly passed between them.

"And so you all escaped when the frigate blew up in action with the Frenchman the day we left you?" said Paul after he had explained in a few words how he and his companions had been captured by the Frenchmen.

"Blew up!" exclaimed Abel. "We never blew up; though we had a jolly good blow-out that evening, after we had taken a thundering big French frigate, which we must have begun to engage before you lost sight of our mastheads. We should have taken her consort, too, before the sun went down, if, like a cur, she hadn't turned tail and run for it; when, as it took us some little time to repair damages, we could not follow."

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Paul. "Hurrah! I thought so. This is the very craft herself, depend on it; and that is the reason the hounds have been worrying our poor fellows, as if they had been mere brutes. You'll hear all about it by and by. But I say, Abel, do you go and look after the surgeon of this ship. He's a kind-hearted gentleman. Take care no one hurts him. Billy will try and find him."

Paul Pringle never forgot those who had been kind to him. True Blue was also very glad to show his gratitude to the French doctor, whom they soon found in his cabin, where he had retired during the first rush of the British on board.

Summoning his assistants, the surgeon returned to the cockpit, where he was quickly occupied in endeavouring to mitigate the sufferings of his wounded countrymen, who now, mangled and bleeding, were being collected from all parts of the captured ship.

When True Blue got back to Paul, he found Tom Marline and Harry and Fid with him. The prisoners had been released; but by the particular advice of the officers, they had not yet mentioned the insults they had received, lest, already heated with the excitement of battle, the accounts should exasperate the crew of the Ruby and make them retaliate on the Frenchmen.

Paul, at his earnest request, was now removed back to his own ship while she lay alongside the prize. He and True Blue were warmly received by their shipmates, as were Tom and Fid and Harry. So also were the two midshipmen. The Captain, especially, was delighted at getting back young Elmore, who was an only son, and placed by his mother especially under his care.

"Yes, sir; here I am!" said the middy after the Captain had greeted him. "And, sir, I owe my life to the bravery of Freeborn, who leaped overboard to save me, in a raging sea, when no other means could have been employed."

"A noble, gallant young fellow. I will not overlook him, depend on that, Elmore. You and I must settle what we can best do for his interests," said the Captain warmly. But just then there was so much to be done that he could say no more on the subject.

The Ruby had suffered considerably both in hull and rigging, and in killed and wounded. The Frenchmen had, however, lost between seventy and eighty men in all. The second Captain was killed, and the first desperately wounded. The frigates had got so close in with the French coast that they were obliged to anchor to repair damages, so as to be in a condition to make sail and stand off again. It was a very anxious time for the English, for they were close enough in to be very much annoyed, should guns be brought down to the coast to bear upon them, or should any French ships be warned of their vicinity, and be able to get up and attack them before they were prepared for another engagement.

These considerations made everybody on board work with a will, and all night long the wearied crew of the Ruby were putting their own ship into fighting order, and getting up jury-masts so as to make sail on the prize. A careful lookout was kept, however, so that they might be prepared to meet danger from whatever quarter it might come.

The passengers taken in the packet were among the first removed from the French frigate, and were accommodated as well as circumstances would allow on board the Ruby.

The morning after the battle, the wind came off the shore, and a large concourse of people assembled on the coast had the mortification to see the Ruby and her prize make sail and stand away to the northward.

A few hours afterwards, a fleet of gunboats and two frigates came to look for them; but they were beyond reach of the former, and though the frigates followed, they were driven back by the sight of an English squadron, and both the Ruby and La Ralieuse reached Portsmouth in safety.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

True Blue's agitation was considerable, when, the day after the ship's arrival in Portsmouth Harbour, he heard his name called along the deck, and found that he was sent for into the Captain's cabin. "I wonder what I can be wanted for," he said to Abel Bush as he was giving his jacket a shake, and seeing that his shoes and handkerchief were tied with nautical propriety.

"About the matter of the jumping overboard," said Abel. "They think a good deal of it, you know!"

"That's more than I do," answered True Blue. "I wish they hadn't found out it was me. Still I must go. Good-bye, Abel. I hope they won't want to be paying me. I'll not touch a shilling—of that I'm determined!"

"Stick to that, boy—don't," said Abel. "You did your duty, and that's all you'd wish to do."

True Blue hurried along the deck till he reached the Captain's cabin, then hat in hand he entered, and, pulling a lock of his hair, stood humbly at the foot of the table. He saw that the Captain and Mr Brine, and the two midshipmen, Sir Henry Elmore and Mr Nott, were there, and two or three strange gentlemen from the shore.

"Sit down, Freeborn," said the Captain, pointing to a chair, which, very much to his surprise, Mr Nott got up and placed near him. "It is now a good many years since we were first shipmates, and during all that time I have only seen and heard good of you, and now I wish to thank you most heartily for the gallant way in which you saved Sir Henry Elmore's life. He and all his family wish also to show what they feel in the way most likely to be acceptable to you."

"Indeed they do. You performed a very gallant, noble action, young man, one to be proud of!" observed one of the gentlemen from the shore, who was an uncle of Sir Henry. "On what have you especially set your heart? What would you like to do? I suppose that you would not wish to leave the navy?"

"No, that I would not, sir," answered True Blue warmly. "But I know, sir, what I would like to do."

"What is it, my man? Speak out frankly at once!" said the gentleman. "I have no doubt that we shall be able to do as you wish."

"Then, sir, it's this," said True Blue, brightening up. "They've carried Paul Pringle to the hospital. Captain Garland knows the man, sir—my godfather. He'll be alone there, nobody particular to look after him; and what I should like, sir, would be to be allowed to go and stay with him till he is well and about again, or till the ship sails, when I don't think godfather would wish me to stay on shore even to be with him."

The gentlemen looked at each other, and then at the Captain and Mr Brine, who did not seem surprised, though Johnny Nott appeared a little inclined to laugh.

"A seaman thinks less of jumping overboard to save the life of a fellow-creature than you would of picking a drunken man up out of the road," said the Captain, addressing the gentleman. "You must propose something to him. He will not suggest anything himself."

"I think, Freeborn, I may easily promise that you will be allowed to remain with your old friend as long as he wishes it," said the Captain, turning to True Blue. "But I am sure Sir Henry's family will not be satisfied without showing some mark of their esteem and gratitude. What should you say now if the way was open to you of becoming an officer— first lieutenant of a ship like this, or perhaps her Captain? There is nothing to prevent it. I am very sure that you would be welcomed by all those among whom you were placed."

"There would be no difficulty as to expense," said the gentleman from the shore.

True Blue looked up at first as if the Captain was joking with him; then he became very grave, and in a voice almost choking with agitation he answered, "Oh, don't ask me, sir; don't ask me. I don't want to be anything but a seaman, such as my father was before me. I couldn't go and leave Paul, and Abel, and Peter, and the rest—men who have bred me up, and taught me all a sailor's duties in a way very few get taught. I couldn't, indeed, I wouldn't, leave them even to be an officer on the quarterdeck."

True Blue was silent, and no one spoke for some time, till the Captain turned aside to the gentleman and said, "I told you that I thought it likely such would be his answer. You must find some means of overcoming his scruples. Perhaps Elmore and Nott will manage him by themselves better than we shall."

The two midshipmen took the hint and invited True Blue to accompany them out of the cabin. They wisely did not take him on the quarterdeck, but got him between two of the after-guns, where they could converse without interruption. The result of the deliberation was that True Blue promised to consult his friends on the subject; and Elmore wound up by saying, "At all events, you must come up with me to see my mother and sisters in London. They will not be content without thanking you, and they cannot come down here to do so."

"With you, Sir Henry!" said True Blue, thinking that the midshipman really now was joking. "They wouldn't know what to do with such as me. I should like to go and see great London town—that I should; but— but—"

"No 'buts,' and so you shall, Freeborn; and that's all settled."

True Blue got leave of absence that afternoon, and Abel Bush accompanied him to the hospital, where he left him with Paul. He had never been more happy in his life, for the hospital servants were very glad to have their labours lightened, and left him to attend all day long on his godfather, and on several other wounded shipmates in the same ward. He told Paul all that had been said to him, and all the offers made him; but his godfather declined giving any advice till a formal consultation had been held by all his sponsors and their mates. Still True Blue thought that he seemed inclined to recommend him to do what he himself wished.

Paul was rapidly getting better, and in less than ten days who should appear at the hospital but Sir Henry Elmore himself. He went round the wards and spoke separately to each of the wounded men belonging to the Ruby, and then he came to Paul Pringle and had a long talk with him. Paul thought that in a few days he should be sufficiently recovered to leave the hospital and get as far as his own home, at the pretty village of Emsworth, and he had proposed that True Blue should accompany him. Abel Bush and Peter Ogle both lived there, and had families, among whom their godson would pass his time pleasantly enough.

"I daresay he might," said the young baronet, to whom Paul had mentioned this; "but I have the first claim on him. I have come now expressly to carry him off, so let him pack up his traps and accompany me."

Paul offered no further opposition to this proposal; so True Blue, having tied up a clean shirt and a thin pair of shoes, with a few other things in a handkerchief, announced that he had his clothes ready and was prepared to accompany the baronet.

The midshipman looked at the bundle, but said nothing. He knew well enough that a ship's boy was not likely to have any large amount of clothing. He had a coach at the door, and he ordered the coachman to drive to the George Hotel at Portsmouth. On the way he asked his companion whether he would not prefer dressing in plain clothes, and that, if so, a suit forthwith should be at his service; but True Blue so earnestly entreated that he might be allowed to wear the dress to which he had always been accustomed, that his friend gave up the point.

They found a capital dinner prepared for them at the George, in a private room; and the gentleman whom True Blue had seen on board the Ruby was there to receive them, and talked so kindly and pleasantly that he soon found himself very much at his ease, and was able and willing to do ample justice to the good things placed before him.

As Mr Leslie, Sir Henry's uncle, was obliged to return to London that night, they set off by the mail. Mr Leslie went inside; but the midshipman and True Blue, who disdained such a mode of proceeding, took their places behind the coachman, the box seat being already occupied by a naval officer. Mail coaches in those days were not the rapidly-moving vehicles they afterwards became. Passengers sat not only in front, but behind, where the guard also had his post—a most important personage, resplendent in red livery, and armed to the teeth with pistols, a heavy blunderbuss, and often a hanger or cutlass; so that he had the means, if he possessed a bold heart, of defending the property confided to him.

True Blue had never before been on the top of a coach, and his remarks as they drove along, till the long summer day came to a close, amused the young baronet very much.

When they reached London, Mr Leslie called a hackney coach, and True Blue found himself rumbling along through the streets of London, towards Portman Square, at an early hour on a bright summer morning.

"Where are all the people, sir?" he asked, looking out of the window. "I thought London was full of people."

"So it is. They are all asleep now, like ants in their nest. When the sun is up by and by, they will be busy enough, you will see," answered Mr Leslie.

It was still very early when they arrived at Lady Elmore's house; and, as they were not expected, no one was up to receive them. They, however, got in quietly; and while his arrival was being made known to his mother, Sir Henry took True Blue to a room and advised him to turn in and get some sleep. He would, however, very much rather have been allowed to go out and see the wonders of the great city; but his friend assuring him that, if he did, he would inevitably lose himself, he reluctantly went to bed.

The moment, however, that his head was on the pillow, he was fast asleep, and, in spite of the bright sun which gleamed in at the window, it was not till nearly the family breakfast-time that he awoke.

He was awakened by a bland voice saying, "It is time to get up, sir. Shall I help you to dress?"

True Blue opened his eyes and saw before him a personage in a very fine coat, with powdered hair, who he thought must be some great lord or other, even though he held a can of hot water in his hand.

The young sailor sat up, and, seeing no one else in the room, said, pulling a front lock of his hair, "Did you speak to me, sir?"

"Sir Henry sent me to ascertain if you wanted anything," answered the footman, somewhat puzzled, as he had not been told who the occupant of the room was.

When, however, he came to examine the clothes by the bedside, he guessed that he was some naval follower of his young master. He was about to carry off the clothes to brush them.

True Blue saw the proceeding with dismay. "Don't take them away, please. I have no others!" he exclaimed. "But, I say, I'm very hungry, and shouldn't mind some bread and cheese if there's any served out yet."

"I can get it for you at once; but breakfast will be ready directly, and you will find better things to eat then," said the footman, smiling.

"Oh, I'll be dressed in a jiffy, then," answered True Blue, jumping out of bed and forthwith commencing his ablutions in sea fashion, and almost before the footman had left the room he was ready to go downstairs.

Sir Henry came for him.

"Come along, Freeborn. My mother and sisters are anxious to see you. They are in the breakfast-room. I am sure that you will like them."

True Blue, looking every inch the sailor, with his rich light curling hair, sunburnt countenance, laughing blue eye, and white strong teeth, followed the midshipman. He felt rather strange when the door opened and a handsome, tall lady came forward, and, taking him by both his hands, said:

"You saved my dear boy's life at the risk of your own. I owe you all the gratitude a mother can offer."

She shook his hands warmly. He made no answer, for he did not know exactly what to say, except, "Oh, marm, it's nothing!"

Two tall girls then followed her example, and he thought that they were going to kiss him; but they did not, which he was glad of, as it would have made him feel very bashful.

Mr Leslie came down, and the party were soon seated round the breakfast-table. True Blue was very hungry, but at first everything seemed so strange about him that he could not eat. However, the ladies spoke in such kind, sweet voices, while they in no way seemed to notice what he was about, that he quickly gained courage and made the beef, and ham, and eggs, and bread and butter, rapidly disappear.

After the meal was over, some time was spent by Sir Henry with his mother and sisters, while Mr Leslie remained with True Blue, talking with him in a friendly way; and then he gave him a number of books with prints to look over, which interested him very much.

At last his host came back. "Come along, Freeborn," he said. "The coach is at the door, and we have numberless sights to see, which, truth to say, I have never seen myself; so my mother will go with us to show them. Is there anything you have heard of you would particularly like to see?"

True Blue thought a little. "Yes, indeed there is, Sir Henry," he answered. "There is one thing I'd rather see than anything else. It is what I have always longed to have a sight of, and that is His Majesty the King we fight for. Paul Pringle says he would go a hundred miles any day to see him; and so would I—two hundred for that matter. Every true sailor is ready enough to shed his blood for him, marm; but we should all of us like to see him just once, at all events."

"I daresay that we shall be able to manage that without difficulty," said Lady Elmore. "His Majesty will probably soon come up to deliver a speech in Parliament, and we shall then have a good opportunity of seeing him."

This promise highly delighted True Blue; and he evidently looked forward to seeing the King with more satisfaction than to any sight he expected to witness during his visit to London.

True Blue was taken one evening to the play, but, unfortunately, what was called a naval drama was acted. Here both he and the midshipman were well qualified to criticise. He certainly was the more severe.

"Does that fellow call himself a sailor, marm?" he asked, turning to Lady Elmore. "Don't believe it. He isn't a bit more like a sailor than that thing they are hauling across the deck is like a ship—that is to say, any ship I ever saw. If she came to be launched, she'd do nothing but go round boxing the compass till she went to the bottom. Would she, Sir Henry?"

The midshipman was highly diverted. "The manager little thought that he had us to criticise his arrangements," he answered, laughing. "The play is only got up for the amusement of landsmen, and to show them how we sailors fight for them."

"But wouldn't they like us to go and do that just now ourselves, Sir Henry?" exclaimed True Blue with eagerness. "If they'd give us a cutlass apiece, and would get those Frenchmen we saw just now to stand up like men, we would show them how we boarded and took the French frigate in our first cruise."

Lady Elmore said she thought some confusion might be created if the proposal was carried out, and persuaded True Blue to give up the idea. When, however, one of the stage sailors came on and volunteered to dance a hornpipe, his indignation knew no bounds. "He's not a true bluejacket—that I'll warrant!" he exclaimed. "If he was, he wouldn't be handling his feet in the way he is doing. I should so like to step down and just show you, my lady, and the rest of the good people here, how we dance aboard. If I had but Sam Smatch and his fiddle, I'll warrant people would say which was the right and which was the wrong way pretty quickly."

Lady Elmore explained to him, much to his surprise, that none but the actors who were paid for it were allowed to appear on the stage, but assured him that she would be very glad if some evening he would give them, at her house, an exhibition of his skill in dancing the hornpipe.

"That I will, my lady, with all my heart!" he exclaimed frankly. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to please you and the young ladies; and I think that you would like to see a right real sailor's hornpipe danced. It does my heart good to dance it, I know. It is rare fun."

On driving home, Lady Elmore asked him how he liked the play altogether.

"Well, my lady," he exclaimed, "much obliged to you for taking me to the place! It was very good sport, but I should have liked it better if I could have lent a hand in the work. When there is a scrimmage, it is natural-like to wish to be in it. And I couldn't bear to see that black pirate fellow carry off the young gal, and all the gold and silver plates and candlesticks, and not be able just to go and rout out his nest of villains."

This visit to the play enabled his friends to understand True Blue's style of thought and manners far better than they had before done, and was in reality of considerable benefit to him. Gentle of heart and right-minded, and brave as a lion, he was still a rough sailor; and only a considerable time spent in the society of polished people could have given him the polish which is looked-for in a gentleman.

The next day the King was to prorogue Parliament. Mr Leslie called in the morning and took his nephew and young guest down towards Westminster to wait for his approach. True Blue was full of excitement at the thought of seeing the King. "I wonder what he can be like? He must be a very grand person to have so many big ships all of his own," he observed to Mr Leslie.

"You would find His Majesty a very affable, kind old gentleman if he were to speak to you at any time," said Mr Leslie. "Here he comes, though. You will see him inside the coach. Take off your hat when he passes."

At a slow and stately pace the carriage of the kind-hearted monarch of Great Britain approached. First came the body of Life Guards, their belts well whitened with pipeclay, and their heads plastered with pomatum and powder; and then followed the royal carriage, as fine as gold and paint and varnish could make it.

"There's King George, Freeborn," said Mr Leslie, pointing out his Majesty, who sat looking very gracious as he bowed now out of one window, now out of the other.

"God bless him, then!" shouted True Blue, almost beside himself with excitement, throwing up his hat and catching it again. "Three cheers for King George, boys! Three cheers for the King! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah, boys! Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" True Blue's eye had fallen on several other bluejackets, who happened to be near him in the crowd, come up to London on a spree to get rid of their prize-money. Instantly the shout was taken up by them and echoed by the rest of the crowd, till the air was rent with cries of "Long live the King!" "Long live King George!"

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah for King George!" "Hurrah for Old England!" "Old England in arms against the world—Old England for ever!"

Mr Leslie was highly delighted, and he and his nephew joined in the shout as loudly as any one, while the King, looking from the windows, bowed and smiled even more cordially than before.

"Well, I've had a good sight of His Majesty, and I'll not forget his kind face as long as I live!" exclaimed True Blue as the party walked homeward. "It is a pleasure to know the face of the King one is fighting for; and, God bless His Majesty, his kind look would make me more ready than ever to stand up for him!"

All the way home True Blue could talk of nothing but the King, and how glad he was to have seen him. In the evening, however, one of the young ladies began to play a hornpipe, the music of which Sir Henry, not without difficulty, had procured for her. True Blue pricked up his ears, and then, running to the piano, exclaimed, "You play it very well indeed, Miss Julia—that you do; but I wish that you could just hear Sam Smatch with his fiddle—he'd take the shine out of you, I think you'd say. Howsomdever, my lady, if you and the young ladies and Sir Henry please, and Miss Julia will just strike up a bit of a tune, I'll shuffle my feet about and show you what we call a hornpipe at sea. Sir Henry knows, though, right well; but, to say truth, I'd rather have the smooth deck under my feet than this grassy sort of stuff, which wants the right sort of spring in it."

"Never mind, Freeborn," said Sir Henry, laughing. "They are not such severe judges as Ogle and Bush, and Marline and our other shipmates."

"To be sure—to be sure," said True Blue in a compassionate tone. "Now, Miss Julia, please marm, strike up and off I go."

True Blue did go off indeed, and with the greatest spirit performed a hornpipe which deservedly elicited the admiration of all the spectators. Miss Julia's fingers were tired before his feet, and, having made the usual bow round to the company, throwing back his hair, he stood ready to begin again.

The applause which followed having ceased, he laughed, exclaiming, "Oh, it's nothing, ladies—nothing to what I can do, Sir Henry will tell you; but, you see, there's a good deal of difference between the forecastle of a man-of-war, and this here drawing-room in big London City." The tone of his voice showed that he gave the preference to the forecastle.

That evening Lady Elmore and her son had a long discussion.

"But are you certain, Henry, that we are doing the best thing for the brave lad?" she said.

"Oh, he'll polish—he'll polish rapidly!" answered her son. "He has no notion of concealment, or that it is necessary for him to assume shoregoing manners, now that he has got over his bashfulness at finding himself among strangers. He says exactly what he thinks and feels. The outside husk is rough enough, I own, but, depend on it, the jewel within will soon take a polish which will shine brightly through the shell and light up the whole form. Not a bad notion for a midshipman, mother!"