Paul Gerrard, the Cabin Boy Read online

  CHAPTER TWO.

  The _Cerberus_, stout frigate that she was, plunged onward across thefoam-covered ocean. On one side was the burning ship, at which not ashot had been fired since her condition was discovered; on the other wasa still active enemy. With the latter, broadside after broadside wasrapidly exchanged, but without much damage being sustained. From theburning ship a few shots continued for a short time to be fired, but asthe fire increased, the crew must have deserted their guns, and as theflames gained the mastery, they burned through the ropes and attackedthe sails, and the ship fell off and rolled helplessly in the trough ofthe sea, where the two combatants soon left her far astern.

  "I wish as how we could heave-to and send a boat to help them poorfellows," cried Reuben Cole, looking at the burning ship.

  "To my mind, the mounseer out there would be doing better if he was tocry, Peccavi, and then go and look after his countrymen, instead ofgetting himself knocked to pieces, as he will be if he keeps on long atthis game."

  The sentiment was highly applauded by his hearers. There was not a manindeed on board the frigate who was not eager to save the lives of thehapless crew of the burning ship, which they had till now striven sohard to destroy.

  The firing had ceased; the grey dawn broke over the waste of waters;astern was seen the smoke from the burning ship, with bright flashesbelow it, and away to leeward their other antagonist making all sail toescape. The battle was over, though the victor could boast but of abarren conquest. The guns were run in and secured, and the weary crewinstantly set to work to repair damages. As the wind had fallen and thesea had considerably gone down, the work was performed without muchdifficulty. Captain Walford had narrowly watched his flying foe, in thehopes that she might go to the assistance of her late consort. Herroyals had not long sunk below the horizon when once more the _Cerberus_was in a condition to make sail.

  Captain Walford considered whether he should go in pursuit of the enemy,or attempt to save the lives of the unfortunate people from the burningship. In the first case he might possibly capture an enemy's ship, butought he for the chance of so doing to leave his fellow-creatures toperish miserably?

  "No, I will risk all consequences," he said to his first-lieutenantafter a turn on deck. And the _Cerberus_ stood towards the wreck.

  The wind had fallen so much that her progress was very slow. TheEnglish now wished for more wind, for every moment might be of vitalconsequence to their late enemies. Not a man on board felt the leastenmity towards them; even the wounded and dying when told of theircondition looked on them as brothers in misfortune.

  War is sad work, sad for those at home, sad for those engaged in it, andthe only way to mitigate its horrors is to treat the fallen or thedefeated foe as we should ourselves wish to be treated.

  While the frigate sailed on, the crew were repairing as far as possiblethe damages she had received; for at that season of the year it wasprobable that another gale might spring up, which she was as yetill-prepared to encounter. The men were nearly dropping with fatigue,but they worked on bravely, as true-hearted seamen always do work whennecessity demands their exertions.

  Meantime Paul was summoned below. The midshipmen who were not requiredon deck were again assembled in the berth; but the places of severalwere vacant. They were eating a hurried meal which Paul had placed onthe table, and discussing the events of the fight. One or two of theyoungsters were rather graver than usual, but Paul thought that the resttook matters with wonderful indifference. He was anxious to know whathad happened to Devereux, whom he had seen carried below badly wounded.Nobody mentioned him; perhaps he was dead; and he did not feel sorry atthe thought. After a time, though, he had some compunctions ofconscience. He was thinking that he would find his way towards the sickbay, where the wounded midshipmen and other junior officers were placed,when one of the assistant-surgeons came towards the berth.

  "Here, boy Gerrard, I can trust you, I think," he exclaimed. "I wantyou to stay by Mr Devereux, and to keep continually moistening hislips, fomenting his wound as I shall direct. He is very feverish, andhis life may depend on your attention."

  Paul felt as he had never felt before, proud and happy at being thusspoken to, and selected by the surgeon to perform a responsible office,even though it was for one whom he had taught himself to look upon inthe light of an enemy. He was soon by the side of the sufferer. Thesight which met his eyes was sufficient to disarm all hostility. Theyoung midshipman, lately so joyous, with the flush of health on hischeeks, lay pale as death, groaning piteously; his side had been tornopen, and a splinter had taken part of the scalp from his head. Theassistant-surgeon showed him what to do, and then hurried away, for hehad many wounded to attend to, as the chief surgeon had been killed by ashot which came through one of the lower ports.

  Gerrard felt greatly touched at Devereux's sufferings. "Poor fellow! hecannot possibly live with those dreadful wounds, and yet I am sure whenthe fight began that he had not an idea that he was to be killed, oreven hurt," he said to himself more than once. Paul was unwearied infollowing the surgeon's directions. Devereux, however, was totallyunconscious, and unaware who was attending on him. He spoke now andthen, but incoherently, generally about the home he had lately left.Once Paul heard him utter the name of Gerrard.

  "We beat them, though they kept us long out of our fortune, and now theyare beggars as they deserve. Hard for the young ones, though, I think;but it cannot be helped--must not think about them."

  Such expressions dropped at intervals from the lips of Devereux. How hecame to utter them at that time Paul could not guess. Did he know him,or in any way associate his name with the family of whom he wasspeaking?

  "He has some sympathy, at all events, poor fellow, with ourmisfortunes," thought Paul. "I wish that I had not thought so ill ofhim. I hope he won't die. I will pray that God will spare his life;even if he were my enemy I should do that."

  The surgeon, when he came his rounds, expressed his approval of the wayPaul had managed his patient.

  "Will he live, sir?" asked Paul, in a trembling voice.

  "That is more than the wisest of us can say," was the answer.

  Paul was at length relieved from his charge by a marine who acted asDevereux's servant. He was, however, very unwilling to quit his post.He was feeling more interest in the wounded midshipman than he couldhave supposed possible.

  Paul, as soon as he could, made his way on deck. He wanted to know whathad become of the burning ship. He looked around; she was nowhere to beseen. He inquired what had happened to her. She had blown up; andprobably nearly all on board had sunk beneath the waves. There were menaloft, however, looking out, and now they were pointing in the directionof where the burning ship had gone down. A speck on the ocean wasobserved; it was probably part of the wreck, and perhaps some of thecrew might be clinging to it. The captain ordered a boat to be lowered,for the wind was so light that the frigate would take a much longer timethan it would to reach the spot. The boat pulled away; the men in therigging and all on deck eagerly watched her progress. It seemed,however, doubtful whether any one of their late foes had escapeddestruction. The crew in the boat made no sign that they saw any one.At length, however, they reached the spot towards which they wererowing.

  "Anyhow, they've got something," cried a topman.

  The boat made a wide circuit round the fatal spot. After some time shewas seen returning to the ship.

  "They have got a man, I do believe," exclaimed one of the men.

  "No; to my mind it is only a mounseer midshipmite," observed ReubenCole, looking down from his work into the boat.

  "They've picked up a few other things, though, but it's a poor haul, Ifear."

  When the boat came alongside, a fine young boy in a French uniform washanded up and placed on the deck. He looked around with a bewilderedair, as if not knowing where he was. Captain Walford then took himkindly by the hand, and told him that he should be well cared for, andthat he would find fr
iends instead of those he had lost. The boysighed.

  "What! are all, all gone?" he asked in French.

  "I fear so," answered the captain. "But you are cold and wet, and youmust go below to the surgeon, who will attend to you."

  The poor young stranger was, however, very unwilling to leave the deck,and kept looking up into the countenances of the bystanders as if insearch of some of his missing friends. Paul watched him with interest.

  "Poor boy!" he said to himself; "I thought that I was very forlorn andmiserable; but I have Reuben Cole and others who are kind to me, and hehas no one here who can care for him. How fortunate that I learnedFrench, because now I can talk to him and be useful to him."

  When the humane Captain Walford found that all the rest of the haplesscrew of his late antagonist were lost, he ordered all the sail to bemade which the frigate in her present crippled state could carry, inchase of his other opponent, having noted carefully the direction inwhich she was steering when last seen.

  "I thought that we had done with fighting for the present," said Paul toReuben Cole, who told him that they were looking out for the otherfrigate.

  "No, boy, that we haven't, and what's more, I expect we shan't, as longas the flag of an enemy of old England flies over the salt sea. You'lllive, I hope, Paul, to help thrash many of them. I liked the way inwhich you behaved in the action just now. You was cool and active,which is just what you should be. It won't be my fault if you don'tmake a first-rate seaman some day."

  Paul was again much pleased with Reuben's commendations. He was surethat he would keep his promise, and he resolved to profit by hisinstructions, as far as his duties in the midshipmen's berth would allowhim. Before long, the young Frenchman made his appearance on deck,dressed in the uniform of an English midshipman who had been killed. Helifted his hat in the politest manner to the captain and officers, andthanked them for the courtesy they had shown him. He was in the middleof his speech, which was very pathetic, when his eye fell on some of thearticles which had been picked up and had not been taken below. Amongthem was a long narrow case. He sprang towards it with a shout of joy.

  "C'est a moi! c'est a moi!" he exclaimed, as he produced a key from alanyard round his neck. He opened the case and drew forth a violin andbow. The case had been well made and water-tight; he applied theinstrument to his chin. At first, only slow melancholy sounds wereelicited; but by degrees, as the strings got dry, the performer's armsmoved more rapidly, and he at last struck up a right merry tune.

  The effect was curious and powerful. The captain unconsciously began tomove his feet, the officers to shuffle, and the men, catching theinfection, commenced a rapid hornpipe, which Mr Order, thefirst-lieutenant, in vain attempted to stop. The young Frenchman,delighted at finding that his music was appreciated, played faster andfaster, till everybody on deck was moving about in a fashion seldom seenon the deck of a man-of-war.

  "Stop, stop!" shouted the first-lieutenant; "knock off that nonsense,men; stop your fiddling, I say, youngster--stop your fiddling, I say."

  The discipline of the ship was very nearly upset; the men, however,heard and obeyed; but the young Frenchman, not comprehending a word, anddelighted moreover to get back his beloved violin, continued playingaway as eagerly as at first, till Mr Order, losing patience, seized hisarm, and by a significant gesture, ordered him to desist. His musicaltalent, and his apparent good-nature, gained for the French lad thegoodwill of the crew, and of most of the officers also.

  "What is your name, my young friend?" asked Captain Walford.

  "Alphonse Montauban," was the answer.

  "Very well; you will be more at your ease in the midshipmen's berth, Isuspect. Take him below, Mr Bruff, and say that I beg the younggentlemen will accommodate him and treat him with kindness. You'll geta hammock slung for him."

  "Ay, ay, sir," answered Bruff, taking Alphonse by the hand. "Comealong, youngster."

  Bruff was anxious to say something kind to the poor boy, but there was abar to this, as neither understood each other's language. Paulfollowed, guessing this, and hoping that his knowledge of French mightbe put into requisition. Alphonse, with his fiddle tucked under hisarm, entered the berth.

  "Here's a young chap who is a first-rate hand with the catgut, and ifany of you can tell him that he is welcome in his own lingo, I wish youwould, mates," said Bruff.

  "Mounseer, you are mucho welcomo to our bertho," exclaimed Blake."Here's to your healtho, Mounseer. I hope, Bruff, this is first-rateFrench."

  "It doesn't sound like it, but maybe he understands you, for he's bowingto you in return," answered Bruff.

  Similar attempts at speaking French were made; but, as may be supposed,the young foreigner was as unable as at first to understand what wassaid.

  "How very ignorant they are," thought Paul. "I wish that they would letme speak to him."

  The young Frenchman, who was of an excitable disposition, at lastthinking that the English boys were laughing at him, began to losetemper, and so did they, at what they considered his unexampledstupidity.

  Paul, who was standing near the door, mustering courage, at lengthinterpreted what was said into very fair French. The young stranger,with a pleased smile, asked--

  "What! can a poor boy like you speak my dear language?"

  "Yes, I learned it of my sisters at home," answered Paul.

  "Then we must be friends, for you can sympathise with me more than canthese," said Alphonse.

  "Do not say so to them," observed Paul; "they may not like it. I am buta poor ship's boy and their servant."

  "Misfortune makes all people equal, and your tone of voice and the wayyou speak French, convince me that you are of gentle birth," saidAlphonse.

  It is possible that the midshipmen might have looked at Paul with morerespect from hearing him speak a language of which they were ignorant,though some sneered at him for talking the Frenchman's lingo.

  Paul, as soon as he could leave the berth, hurried to the side ofDevereux. He found the surgeon there.

  "Ah! come to look after your patient, boy?" said Mr Lancet. "You haveperformed your duty so well, that I have begged Mr Order to relieve youfrom your attendance on the young gentlemen, and to give you to mealtogether."

  Paul thanked Mr Lancet, but told him frankly, that though he was veryglad to be of service to Mr Devereux, or to any other wounded shipmate,he wished to learn to be a sailor, and therefore that he would rather beemployed on deck; still he was gratified at what Mr Lancet had said.

  He devoted himself, however, to Devereux, by whose side he spent everymoment not absolutely required for sleep or for his meals. Mr Ordersent another boy, Tom Buckle, to attend on the young gentlemen, who cameto the conclusion that he was a perfect lout after Paul.

  "There is something in that youngster after all," observed Bruff, whoresolved to try what he was really worth, and to befriend himaccordingly.

  Meantime, the _Cerberus_ continued in chase of the French frigate, whichAlphonse told Captain Walford was the _Alerte_, and perhaps to inducehim to give up the chase, he remarked that she was very powerfully armedand strongly manned, and would prove a dangerous antagonist. CaptainWalford laughed.

  "It is not a reason for abandoning the chase which would weigh much withany one on board this ship, I hope, though it will make them the moreeager to come up with her," he answered.

  Alphonse also let drop that the two frigates were bound out to the WestIndies with important despatches. It was most probable, therefore, thatthe _Alerte_, in obedience to orders, would make the best of her waythere. Captain Walford resolved to follow in that direction.

  The _Alerte_ had probably not received as much injury in her rigging aswas supposed, and as Alphonse said that she was very fast, there waslittle expectation on board the _Cerberus_ that they would come up withher before she got to her destination. Still, Captain Walford was not aman to abandon an object as long as there remained a possibility ofsuccess. He was a good specimen of a British nav
al officer. Brave,kind, and considerate, his men adored him; and there was no deed ofdaring which he would not venture to undertake, because he knew that hiscrew would follow wherever he would lead. He never swore at or abusedthose under him, or even had to speak roughly to them. Every officerwho did his duty knew that he had in him a sincere friend; and his menlooked upon him in the light of a kind and wise father, who would alwaysdo them justice, and overlook even their faults, if possible.

  Mr Lancet took an opportunity of speaking to the captain of the boyGerrard, and remarked that he was far better educated than were ladsgenerally of his class.

  "I will keep my eye on the lad, and if he proves worthy, will serve himif I can," was the answer.

  Devereux continued in great danger; the surgeon would not assert that hewould recover. It was some time before he remarked Paul's attention tohim.

  "You are boy Gerrard, I see," he observed faintly. "You are very goodto me, and more than I deserve from you; but I never meant you ill, andI got you off a cobbing once. I have done very few good things in theworld, and now I am going to die, I am afraid. You'll forgive me,Gerrard, won't you?"

  "Oh, yes, yes, sir!" answered Paul, with tears in his eyes; "even if youhad wronged me much more than you have done; but it wasn't you, it wasyour father and those about him."

  "My father! What do you mean, boy; who are you?" exclaimed Devereux, ina tone of astonishment, starting up for a moment, though he immediatelysank back exhausted; while he muttered to himself,--"Gerrard! Gerrard!can it be possible?" He then asked quietly--

  "Where do you come from, boy?"

  "No matter, sir," answered Paul, afraid of agitating Devereux. "I willtell you another time, for I hope that you will get well soon, and thenyou may be able to listen to what I have to say; but the doctor saysthat at present you must be kept perfectly quiet, and talk as little aspossible."

  Devereux, who was still very weak, did not persist in questioning Paul,who had time to reflect how far it would be wise to say anything abouthimself. He was not compelled to be communicative; and he consideredthat Devereux ill, and expecting to die, and Devereux well, mightpossibly be two very different characters. "If I were to tell him, hemight bestow on me a sort of hypocritical compassion, and I could notstand that," he thought to himself. Whatever were Paul's feelings, hedid not relax in his care of Devereux.

  Day after day came, and the first question asked of the morning watchwas, "Is there anything like the _Alerte_ yet ahead?" All day, too, abright look-out was kept from the mast-heads for her; but in vain, andsome began to think that she must have altered her course and returnedto the coast of France.

  Paul was not sorry when he heard this, for he had seen enough of theeffects of fighting to believe that it was not a desirable occupation;and he, moreover, felt for young Alphonse, who naturally earnestly hopedthat the _Cerberus_ would not fall in with the _Alerte_.

  No one rejoiced more than did Paul when one day Mr Lancet pronouncedDevereux to be out of danger, and that all he required was care andattention. Paul redoubled his efforts to be of use. Alphonse missedhim very much from the berth, as he was the only person who couldinterpret for him, and whenever he wanted anything he had to find himout and to get him to explain what he required. Before long, therefore,the young Frenchman found his way to the sick bay, where Devereux andothers lay. Devereux was the only midshipman who could speak French,though not so well as Paul.

  The ship had now reached a southern latitude, and the balmy air comingthrough an open port contributed to restore health and strength to thesick and wounded. When Devereux heard Alphonse addressing Paul, and thelatter replying in French, he lifted up his head.

  "What, boy Gerrard, where did you learn French?" he asked.

  "At home, sir," answered Paul, quietly.

  "Yes, he speaks very good French, and is a very good boy," remarkedAlphonse.

  "And you, monsieur, you speak French also?"

  Devereux replied that he did a little.

  "That is very nice, indeed," said the young Frenchman. "We will talktogether, and I shall no longer fear dying of _ennui_."

  After this, Alphonse was constantly with Devereux, and when the latterwas better, he brought his fiddle and played many a merry tune to him.Indeed, the young Frenchman, by his light-hearted gaiety, hisgentleness, and desire to please, became a general favourite fore andaft.

  "Ah, mounseer, if there was many like you aboard the frigate which wentdown, I for one am sorry that I had a hand in sending her there,"exclaimed Reuben Cole one day, in a fit of affectionate enthusiasm.

  Alphonse, who understood him, sighed. "There were many, many; but itwas the fortune of war."

  "But, suppose, Reuben, we come up with the other, and have to treat herin the same way, what will you say then?" asked Paul.

  "Why, you see, Paul, the truth is this: if the captain says we mustfight and sink her, it must be done, even if every one on us had amother's son aboard. I stick up for discipline, come what may of it."

  The ship was within one or two days' sail of the West Indies, when, asPaul was on deck, he heard the man at the mast-head shout out, "A sailon the lee-bow standing for the westward."

  "It is the _Alerte_," thought Paul, "and we shall have more fighting."Others were of the same opinion. Instantly all sail was made in chase.The crew of the _Cerberus_ had been somewhat dull of late, except whenthe little Mounseer, as they called Alphonse, scraped his fiddle. Theywere animated enough at present. Even the sick and wounded were eagerto come on deck. Devereux especially insisted that he was able toreturn to his duty. Mr Lancet said that he might not suffer much, butthat he had better remain out of harm's way, as even a slight woundmight prove fatal. He would listen to no such reasoning, and gettingPaul to help him on with his uniform, he crawled on deck.

  "Gerrard," he said as he was dressing, "if I am killed, you are to be myheir as regards my personal effects. I have written it down, and giventhe paper to Mr Lancet, witnessed by Mr Bruff, so it's all right. Ihave an idea who you are, though you never told me."

  Captain Walford was surprised at seeing Devereux on deck, and though heapplauded his zeal, he told him that he had better have remained below.

  As soon as the stranger discovered the _Cerberus_, she made all sail toescape. It was questioned whether or not she was the _Alerte_, but onething was certain, that the _Cerberus_ was overhauling her, and had soongot near enough to see her hull from aloft. It was now seen, thatthough she was a large ship, she was certainly not a frigate; it wasdoubted, indeed, whether she was French. The opinion of Alphonse wasasked.

  "She is not the _Alerte_, she is a merchantman and French; she willbecome your prize. I am sorry for my poor countrymen, but it is thefortune of war," he answered as he turned away with a sigh.

  A calm, of frequent occurrence in those latitudes, came on, and therelay the two ships, rolling their sides into the water, and unable toapproach each other.

  "If the stranger gets a breeze before us she may yet escape," observedthe captain. "Out boats, we must attack her with them."

  The sort of work proposed has always been popular among seamen. Therewas no lack of volunteers. The boats were speedily manned; thesecond-lieutenant went in one boat; old Noakes, though badly wounded,was sufficiently recovered to take charge of another; Peter Bruff had athird. Paul was seized with a strong desire to go also. In the hurryof lowering the boats, he was able to slip into the bows of the lastmentioned, and to hide himself under a sail thrown in by chance. ReubenCole went in the same boat. Devereux watched them away, wishing that hecould have gone also. The boats glided rapidly over the smooth, shiningocean. Their crews were eager to be up with their expected prize. Thesun beat down on their heads, the water shone like polished silver, nota breath of air came to cool the heated atmosphere; but they cared notfor the heat or fatigue, all they thought of was the prize before them.Paul lay snugly under his shelter, wondering when they would reach theenemy's side. He soon began to repen
t of his freak; he could hear theremarks of the men as they pulled on. The ship was from her appearancea letter of marque or a privateer, and such was not likely to yieldwithout a severe struggle, he heard. Paul could endure the suspense nolonger, and creeping from under his covering, he looked out over thebows.

  "Hillo, youngster, what brings you here?" sung out Mr Bruff. "If youcome off with a whole skin, as I hope you will, you must expect a tasteof the cat to remind you that you are not to play such a trick again."

  The reprimand from the kind-hearted mate might have been longer, but itwas cut short by a shot from the enemy, which almost took the ends offthe blades of the oars of his boat. The men cheered and dashed forward.At the same moment eight ports on a side were exposed, and a hot fireopened on the boats from as many guns, and from swivels and muskets.Hot as was the fire, it did not for a moment stop the boats. Paulwished that he had remained on board. The deck of the enemy seemedcrowded with men.

  "Hurrah, lads!" cried Peter Bruff when he saw this, "they'll only hampereach other and give us an easier victory."

  The boats dashed alongside. Langrage and grape and round-shot weredischarged at them, and boarding-pikes, muskets, and pistols were seenprotruding through the ports ready for their reception. The boatshooked on, and, in spite of all opposition, the British seamen began toclimb up the side. Some were driven back and hurled into the boats,wounded, too often mortally; the rest persevered. Again and again theattempt was made, the deck was gained, a desperate hand-to-hand combatbegan. It could have but one termination, the defeat of the attackersor the attacked. Paul climbed up with the rest of his shipmates. It issurprising that human beings could have faced the bristling mass ofweapons which the British seamen had to encounter. Paul followed closebehind Reuben, who kept abreast of Mr Noakes. Pistols were fired intheir faces, cutlasses were clashing, as the seamen were slashing andcutting and lunging at their opponents. In spite of all opposition thedeck was gained; the enemy, however, still fought bravely. Mr Larcom,the second-lieutenant of the _Cerberus_, fell shot through the head.Several men near him were killed or badly wounded; it seemed likely thatafter all the boarders would be driven back. Old Noakes saw the danger;there was still plenty of British pluck in him in spite of the pains hetook to wash away all feeling; the day must be retrieved. "On, lads,on!" he shouted, throwing himself furiously on the enemy; "follow me!death or victory!"

  Again the Frenchmen gave way; at first inch by inch they retreated, thenmore rapidly, leaving many of their number wounded on the deck. Bruffhad faced about and driven the enemy aft; Noakes and Reuben still pushedforward. Paul, following close at their heels with an officer's swordwhich he had picked up, observed, fallen on the deck, a man, apparentlya lieutenant, whose eye was fixed on Noakes, and whose hand held apistol; he was taking a steady aim at Noakes's head. Paul sprangforward, and giving a cut at the man's arm, the muzzle of the pistoldropping, the contents entered the deck.

  "Thanks, boy, you've saved my life, I'll not forget you," cried Noakes."On, on, on!"

  "Well done, Gerrard, well done!" exclaimed Reuben. "You've saved yourhide, boy."

  The Frenchmen, finding that all was lost, leaped down the fore-hatchway,most of them singing out for quarter. A few madly and treacherouslyfired up from below, which so exasperated the seamen, that nearly halfof them were killed before their flag was hauled down and the restoverpowered. The frigate was by this time bringing up a breeze to theprize.

  "It's a pity it didn't come a little sooner; it might have saved thelives of many fine fellows," observed Bruff, as he glanced round on theblood-stained deck.

  "It's an ill wind that blows no one good," remarked Noakes, looking atMr Larcom's body. "If he had been alive, I shouldn't have gained mypromotion, which I am now pretty sure of for this morning's work,besides the command of the prize."

  "`There's many a slip between the cup and the lip.' I've found it so,and so have you, mate, I suspect," said Bruff; "yet, old fellow, I hopeyou'll get what you deserve."

  There was no jealousy in honest Bruff's composition. He put his oldmessmate's gallantry in so bright a light privately before CaptainWalford, that the captain felt himself bound to recommend Noakes forpromotion to the Admiralty, and to place him in charge of the prize totake home. She was the _Aigle_, privateer, mounting sixteen guns,evidently very fast, but very low, with taut masts, square yards, andseemingly very crank. Most of the prisoners were removed, and MrNoakes got leave to pick a crew. He chose, among others, Reuben Coleand Paul Gerrard. The surgeon advised that Devereux and O'Grady shouldgo home, and Alphonse Montauban was allowed a passage, that he might beexchanged on the first opportunity.

  "Be careful of your spars, Noakes," observed Mr Order, as he looked upat the _Aigle's_ lofty masts, "remember that you are short-handed."

  "Ay, ay, sir," answered the old mate as he went down the side, adding tohimself, "I should think that I know how to sail a craft by this time;I'm no sucking baby to require a nurse."

  Paul was very glad to find himself with Devereux and Alphonse, as alsowith Reuben, on board the prize. Mr Noakes did not forget the servicehe had rendered him, and was as kind as could well be. He called himaft one day.

  "Gerrard, my boy, you want to be a seaman, and though I can't give yousilver and gold, I can make you that, if you will keep your wits aboutyou, and I'll teach you navigation myself. You are a gentleman bybirth, and that's more than some of us can boast of being; but I don'tadvise you to aspire to the quarter-deck. Without money or friends, youmay repent being placed on it, as I have often done; that's no reason,however, that you shouldn't become fit to take command of a ship; aprivateer or a merchantman may fall in your way; at all events, learnall you can."

  Paul resolved to follow his new friend's advice. A course was shapedfor Plymouth, and the _Aigle_ proceeded merrily on her way.

  Noakes could give good advice to others, but he did not follow afterwisdom himself. He had a great failing, from the effects of which hehad often suffered. Drink was his bane, as it is that of thousands.Several casks of prime claret were found on board; it would not havedone much harm by itself, but there were some casks of brandy also. Bymixing the two with some sugar, Noakes concocted a beverage very much tohis taste. He kept his word with Paul as long as he was able, and lostno opportunity in giving him instruction in seamanship and navigation;but in time the attractions of his claret-cup were so great, that he wasseldom in a condition to understand anything clearly himself, much lessto explain it to another. Devereux and O'Grady expostulated in vain.He grew angry and only drank harder. The prisoners observed matterswith inward satisfaction. They might have entertained hopes ofregaining their ship. Alphonse warned Devereux.

  "They have not spoken to me, or I could not say this to you, but theymay, so be prepared," he observed one day as they were on deck together,no one else being near.

  Noakes was compelled to keep watch. He always carried on more thaneither of his companions ventured to do. It was night, and very dark;the first watch was nearly over; the weather, hitherto fine, gave signsof changing. Devereux, who had charge of the deck, was about to shortensail, when Noakes came up to relieve him.

  "Hold all fast," he sung out, adding, "Nonsense, Devereux, your woundshave made you weak and timid. We've a slashing breeze, and let's takeadvantage of it to reach the shores of old England."

  "Too much haste the worst speed," observed Reuben to Paul; "our sticksare bending terribly, they'll be whipping over the sides presently, orwill capsize the craft altogether. I don't like the look of things,that I don't, I tell you." Scarcely had he spoken, when a blast,fiercer than its predecessor, struck the ship.

  "Let fly of all," shouted Noakes, sobered somewhat.

  The crew ran to obey the orders, but it came too late. Over went thetall ship; down, down, the raging tempest pressed her.

  "Axes, axes, cut, cut," was heard from several mouths.

  "Follow me, Paul, and then cling on for your life," cried Reu
ben Cole,climbing through a weather port; "it's too late to save the ship."