CHAPTER FOUR.
THE FRIGATE BLOWN UP.
The Americans had been joined by a number of the Frenchmen, and some fewof the worst characters of the English crew--the jail-birds chiefly, whohad been won over with the idea that they would sail away to somebeautiful island, of which they might take possession; and live inindependence, or else rove over the ocean with freedom from alldiscipline.
They had armed themselves with billets of wood and handspikes; and somehad got hold of knives and axes, which they had secreted. They rushedon deck expecting quickly to overpower the watch.
Great was their dismay to find themselves encountered by a strong bodyof armed men, who seized them, or knocked them down directly theyappeared.
So quickly were the first overpowered that they had no time to give thealarm to their confederates below, and thus, as fresh numbers came up,they were treated like the first. In a couple of minutes the whole ofthe mutineers were overpowered.
The Frenchmen who had not actually joined them cried out for mercy,declaring that they had no intention of doing so.
What might have been the case had the Americans been successful wasanother matter.
All those who had taken part in the outbreak having been secured,Captain Waring sent a party of marines to search for the Americancaptain. He was quickly found, and brought on the quarter-deck.
"You have broken your word of honour; you have instigated the crew tomutiny, and I should be justified were I to run you up to the yard-arm!"said Captain Waring, sternly.
"You would have done the same," answered the American captain, boldly."Such acts when successful have always been applauded."
"Not, sir, if I had given my word of honour, as you did, not tointerfere with the discipline of the ship," said Captain Waring. "Youare now under arrest, and, with those who supported you, will remain inirons till we reach England."
Captain Gregory had not a word to say for himself. The French captain,far from pleading for him, expressed his satisfaction that he had beenso treated.
He and the officers who had joined him were marched off under a guard tohave their irons fixed on by the armourer.
After this it became necessary to keep a strict watch on all theprisoners, and especially on the Americans, a large proportion of whomwere found to be English seamen, and some of the _Foxhound's_ crewrecognised old shipmates among them.
Captain Waring, believing that he could trust to the French captain andhis officers, allowed them to remain on their parole, a circumstancewhich greatly aggravated the feelings of Captain Gregory.
The captain had not forgotten Bill, who, by the timely information hehad given, had materially contributed to preserve the ship from capture.Bill himself did not think that he had done anything wonderful; hischief anxiety was lest the fact of his having given the informationshould become known. The sentinel might guess at it, but otherwise thecaptain alone could know anything about it. Bill, as soon as he hadtold his story to the captain, and found that it was credited, stoleaway forward among the rest of the crew on deck, where he took very goodcare not to say a word of what had happened; so that not till thetrustworthy men received orders to be prepared for an outbreak were theyaware of what was likely to occur.
He therefore fancied that his secret had been kept, and that it wouldnever be known; he was, consequently, surprised when the followingmorning the ship's corporal, touching his shoulder, told him that thecaptain wanted to speak to him.
Bill went aft, feeling somewhat alarmed at the thoughts of being spokento by the captain.
On the previous evening he had been excited by being impressed with theimportance of the matter he was about to communicate, but now he hadtime to wonder what the captain would say to him.
He met Tom and Jack by the way.
"Where are you going?" asked Tom.
Bill told him.
"I shouldn't wish to be in your shoes," remarked Tom. "What have youbeen about?"
Bill could not stop to answer, but followed his conductor to the cabindoor.
The sentry, without inquiry, admitted him.
The captain, who was seated at a table in the cabin, near which thefirst lieutenant was standing, received him with a kind look.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked.
"William Rayner, sir," said Bill.
"Can you read and write pretty well?"
"No great hand at either, sir," answered Bill. "Mother taught me when Iwas a little chap, but I have not had much chance of learning sincethen."
"Should you like to improve yourself?" asked the captain.
"Yes, sir; but I have not books, or paper, or pens."
"We'll see about that," said the captain. "The information you gave melast night was of the greatest importance, and I wish to find some meansof rewarding you. When we reach England, I will make known your conductto the proper authorities, and I should like to communicate with yourparents."
"Please, sir, I have no parents; they are both dead, and I have norelations that I know of; but I am much obliged to you, sir," answeredBill, who kept wondering what the captain was driving at.
"Well, my boy, I will keep an eye on you," said the captain. "MrSaltwell, you will see what is best to be done with William Rayner," headded, turning to the first lieutenant. "If you wish to learn to readand write, you can come and get instruction every day from my clerk, MrFinch. I will give him directions to teach you; but remember you arenot forced to do it."
"Thank you, sir," said Bill. "I should like to learn very much."
After a few more words, the captain dismissed Bill, who felt greatlyrelieved when the formidable interview was over.
As he wisely kept secret the fact of his having given information of themutiny, his messmates wondered what could have induced the captain sosuddenly to take an interest in him.
Every day he went aft for his lesson, and Mr Finch, who was agood-natured young man, was very kind. Bill, who was remarkably quick,made great progress, and his instructor was much pleased with him.
He could soon read easily, and Mr Finch, by the captain's orders, lenthim several books.
The master's assistant, calling him one day, told him that he hadreceived orders from the captain to teach him navigation, and, greatlyto his surprise, put a quadrant into his hands, and showed him how touse it.
Bill all this time had not an inkling of what the captain intended forhim. It never occurred to him that the captain could have perceived anymerits or qualifications sufficient to raise him out of his presentposition, but he was content to do his duty where he was.
Tom felt somewhat jealous of the favour Bill was receiving, though hepretended to pity him for having to go and learn lessons every day.Tom, indeed, knew a good deal more than Bill, as he had been at school,and could read very well, though he could not boast much of his writing.
Jack could neither read nor write, and had no great ambition to learn;but he was glad, as Bill seemed to like it, that he had the chance ofpicking up knowledge.
"Perhaps the captain intends to make you his clerk, or maybe some dayyou will become his coxswain," observed Jack, whose ambition soared nohigher. "I should like to be that, but I suppose that it is notnecessary to be able to read, or write, or sum. I never could make anyhand at those things, but you seem up to them, and so it's all rightthat you should learn."
Notwithstanding the mark of distinction Bill was receiving, the threeyoung messmates remained very good friends.
Bill, however, found himself much better off than he had before been.That the captain patronised him was soon known to all, and few venturedto lay a rope's-end on his back, as formerly, while he was well treatedin other respects.
Bill kept his eyes open and his wits awake on all occasions, and thusrapidly picked up a good knowledge of seamanship, such as few boys ofhis age who had been so short a time at sea possessed.
The _Foxhound_ and her prizes were slowly making their way to England.No enemy appeared to rob her of them, thou
gh they were detained bycontrary winds for some time in the chops of the Channel.
At length the wind shifted a point or two, and they were able to getsome way up it. The weather, however, became cloudy and dark, and noobservation could be taken.
It was a trying time, for the provisions and water, in consequence ofthe number of souls on board, had run short.
The captain was doubly anxious to get into port; still, do all he could,but little progress was made, till one night the wind again shifted andthe sky cleared. The master was aware that the ship was farther over tothe French coast than was desirable, but her exact position it wasdifficult to determine.
The first streaks of sunlight had appeared in the eastern sky, when thelook-out shouted--
"A ship to the southward, under all sail."
As the sun rose, his rays fell on the white canvas of the stranger,which was now seen clearly, standing towards the _Foxhound_.
Captain Waring made a signal to the two prizes, which were somewhat tothe northward, to make all sail for Plymouth, while the _Foxhound_,under more moderate canvas, stood off shore.
Should the stranger prove an enemy, of which there was little doubt,Captain Waring determined to try and draw her away from the Frenchcoast, which could be dimly seen in the distance. He, at the same time,did not wish to make an enemy suppose that he was flying. Though readyenough to fight, he would rather first have got rid of his prisoners,but that could not now be done.
It was necessary, therefore, to double the sentries over them, and tomake them clearly understand that, should any of them attempt in any wayto interfere, they would immediately be shot.
Jack, Tom, and Bill had seen the stranger in the distance, and theyguessed that they should before long be engaged in a fierce fight withher. There was no doubt that she was French. She was coming uprapidly.
The captain now ordered the ship to be cleared for action. The men wentreadily to their guns. They did not ask whether a big or small ship wasto be their opponent, but stood prepared to fight as long as the captainand officers ordered them, hoping, at all events, to beat the enemy.
The powder-monkeys, as before, having been sent down to bring up theammunition, took their places on their tubs. Of course they could seebut little of what was going forward, but through one of the ports theyat last caught sight of the enemy, which appeared to be considerablylarger than the _Foxhound_.
"We have been and caught a Tartar," Bill heard one of the seamenobserve.
"Maybe. But whether Turk or Tartar, we'll beat him," answered another.
An order was passed along the decks that not a gun should be fired tillthe captain gave the word. The boys had not forgotten their fight a fewweeks before, and had an idea that this was to turn out something likethat. Then the shot of the enemy had passed between the masts and therigging; but scarcely one had struck the hull, nor had a man been hurt,so they had begun to fancy that fighting was a very bloodless affair.
"What shall we do with the prisoners, if we take her, I wonder?" askedTom. "We've got Monsieurs enough on board already."
"I daresay the captain will know what to do with them," responded Bill.
"We must not count our chickens before they're hatched," said Jack."Howsumdever, we'll do our best." Jack's remark, which was heard bysome of the crew of the gun near which he was seated, caused a laugh.
"What do you call your best, Jack?" asked Ned Green.
"Sitting on my tub, and handing out the powder as you want it," answeredJack. "What more would you have me do, I should like to know?"
"Well said, Jack," observed Green. "We'll work our guns as fast as wecan, and you'll hand out the powder as we want it."
The talking was cut short by the voices of the officers ordering the mento be ready for action.
The crews of the guns laid hold of the tackles, while the captains stoodwith the lanyards in their hands, waiting for the word of command, andready at a moment's notice to fire.
The big ship got nearer and nearer. She could now be seen through theports on the starboard side.
"Well, but she's a whopper!" exclaimed Ned Green, "though I hope we'llwhop her, notwithstanding. Now, boys, we'll show the Monsieurs what wecan do."
Just then came the word along the decks--
"Fire!"
And the guns on the starboard side, with a loud roar, sent forth theirmissiles of death.
While the crew were running them in to re-load, the enemy fired inreturn; their shot came crashing against the sides, some sweeping theupper deck, others making their way through the ports.
The smoke from the guns curled round in thick eddies, through whichobjects could be but dimly seen.
The boys looked at each other. All of them were seated on their tubs,but they could see several forms stretched on the deck, someconvulsively moving their limbs, others stilled in death.
This was likely to be a very different affair from the former action.
Having handed out the powder, Jack, Tom, and Bill returned to theirplaces once more.
The _Foxhound's_ guns again thundered forth, and directly after therecame the crashing sound of shot, rending the stout sides of the ship.
For several minutes the roar was incessant. Presently a cheer was heardfrom the deck.
One of the Frenchman's masts had gone over the side; but before manyminutes had elapsed, a crashing sound overhead showed that the_Foxhound_ had been equally unfortunate.
Her foremast had been shot away by the board, carrying with it thebowsprit and maintopmast.
She was thus rendered almost unmanageable, but still her brave captainmaintained the unequal contest.
The guns, as they could be brought to bear, were fired at the enemy withsuch effect that she was compelled to sheer off to repair damages.
On seeing this, the crew of the _Foxhound_ gave another hearty cheer;but ere the sound had died away, down came the mainmast, followed by themizenmast, and the frigate lay an almost helpless hulk on the water.
Captain Waring at once gave the order to clear the wreck, intending toget up jury-masts, so as to be in a condition to renew the combat shouldthe French ship again attack them.
All hands were thus busily employed. The powder in the meantime wasreturned to the magazine, and the guns run in and secured.
The ship was in a critical condition.
The carpenters, before anything else could be done, had to stop theshot-holes between wind and water, through which the sea was pouring inseveral places.
It was possible that the prisoners might not resist the temptation,while the crew were engaged, to attempt retaking the ship.
The captain and officers redoubled their watchfulness. The crew wentsteadily about their work, as men who knew that their lives depended ontheir exertions. Even the stoutest-hearted, however, looked grave.
The weather was changing for the worse, and should the wind come fromthe northward, they would have a hard matter to escape being wrecked,even could they keep the ship afloat.
The enemy, too, was near at hand, and might at any moment bear down uponthem, and recommence the action.
The first lieutenant, as he was coming along the deck, met Bill, who wastrying to make himself useful in helping where he was wanted.
"Rayner," said Mr Saltwell, "I want you to keep an eye on theprisoners, and report to the captain or me, should you see anythingsuspicious in their conduct--if they are talking together, or look as ifthey were waiting for a signal. I know I can trust you, my boy."
Bill touched his hat.
"I will do my best, sir," he answered; and he slipped down to where theprisoners were congregated.
They did not suspect that he had before informed the captain of theirintended outbreak, or it would have fared but ill with him.
Whatever might have been their intentions, they seemed aware that theywere carefully watched, and showed no inclination to create adisturbance.
The greatest efforts were now made to set up the jury-masts.
The windwas increasing, and the sea rising every minute. The day also wasdrawing on, and matters were getting worse and worse; still CaptainWaring and his staunch crew worked away undaunted. If they could onceget up the jury-masts, a course might be steered either for the Isle ofWight or Plymouth. Sails had been got up from below; the masts wereready to raise, when there came a cry of, "The enemy is standing towardsus!"
"We must beat her off, and then go to work again," cried the captain.
A cheer was the response. The powder-magazine was again opened. Themen flew to their guns, and prepared for the expected conflict.
The French ship soon began to fire, the English returning their salutewith interest. The round shot, as before, whistled across the deck,killing and wounding several of the crew.
The sky became still more overcast; the lightning darted from theclouds; the thunder rattled, mocked by the roaring of the guns.
Bill saw his shipmates knocked over on every side; but, as soon as oneof the crew of a gun was killed, another took his place, or theremainder worked the gun with as much rapidity as before.
The cockpit was soon full of wounded men. Though things were as bad asthey could be, the captain had resolved not to yield.
The officers went about the decks encouraging the crew, assuring themthat they would speedily beat off the enemy.
Every man, even the idlest, was doing his duty.
Jack, Tom, and Bill were doing theirs.
Suddenly a cry arose from below of "Fire! fire!" and the next momentthick wreaths of smoke ascended through the hatchways, increasing everyinstant in density.
The firemen were called away. Even at that awful moment the captain andofficers maintained their calmness.
Now was the time to try what the men were made of. The greater numberobeyed the orders they received. Buckets were handed up and filled withwater to dash over the seat of the fire. Blankets were saturated andsent down below.
The enemy ceased firing, and endeavoured to haul off from theneighbourhood of the ill-fated ship. In spite of all the efforts made,the smoke increased, and flames came rushing up from below. Still, thecrew laboured on; hope had not entirely abandoned them, when suddenly aloud roar was heard, the decks were torn up, and hundreds of men in onemoment were launched into eternity.
Jack, Tom, and Bill had before this made their escape to the upper deck.They had been talking together, wondering what was next to happen, whenBill lost all consciousness; but in a few moments recovering his senses,found himself in the sea, clinging to a piece of wreck.
He heard voices, but could see no one. He called to Tom and Jack,fancying that they must be near him, but no answer came.
He must have been thrown, he knew, to some distance from the ship, forhe could see the burning wreck, and the wind appeared to be driving himfarther and farther away from it.
The guns as they became heated went off, and he could hear the shotsplashing in the water around him.
"And Jack and Tom have been lost, poor fellows!" he thought to himself."I wish they had been sent here. There's room enough for them on thispiece of wreck.
"We might have held out till to-morrow morning, when some vessel mighthave seen us and picked us up."
Curiously enough, he did not think much about himself. Though he wasthankful to have been saved, he guessed truly that the greater number ofhis shipmates, and the unfortunate prisoners on board, must have beenlost; yet he regretted Jack and Tom more than all the rest.
The flames from the burning ship cast a bright glare far and wide overthe ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas.
Bill kept gazing towards the ship. He could make out the Frenchman atsome distance off, and fancied that he saw boats pulling across thetossing waters.
On the other side he could distinguish another vessel, which was also,he hoped, sending her boats to the relief of the sufferers.
The whole ship, however, appeared so completely enveloped in fire, theflames bursting out from all the ports and rising through everyhatchway, that he could not suppose it possible any had escaped.
He found it a hard matter to cling on to the piece of wreck, for theseas were constantly washing over him. Happily it was weighted below,so that it remained tolerably steady. Had it rolled over and over hemust inevitably have lost his hold and been drowned.
Though he had had very little of what is called enjoyment in life, andhis prospects, as far as he could see, were none of the brightest, hestill had no wish to die, and the instinct of self-preservation made himcling to the wreck with might and main.
The tide, which was setting towards the shore, had got hold of his raft,which was also driven by the wind in the same direction, and he foundhimself drifting gradually away from the burning ship, and his chance ofbeing picked up by one of the boats diminishing.
He remembered that land had been in sight some time before the action,but how far the ship had been from it when she caught fire he could nottell, and when he turned his eyes to the southward he could see nothingof it.
Some hours had passed away, so it seemed to him, when, as he turned hiseyes towards the ship, the flames appeared to rise up higher than ever.Her stout hull was a mass of fire fore and aft--she was burning down tothe water's edge. Then came the end--the wild waves washed over her,and all was dark.
"There goes the old ship," thought Bill. "I wonder how many on boardher a few hours ago are now alive. Shall I reach the shore to-morrowmorning? I don't see much chance of it, and if I don't, how shall Iever live through another day?"