For Love of Country Part 27

All of these ships were converted merchantmen, hastily fitted out, poorly adapted for any warlike purpose, and, with the exception of the Fair American, exceedingly slow and unwieldy; but the heart of the young commander filled with pride as he surveyed the little squadron, which followed in his wake, looking handsome enough under full sail.

It was a great trust and responsibility reposed in his skill and experience; doubtless it was the only fleet the country had a.s.sembled, or could a.s.semble, at that time; the ships were certainly not as he would have desired them, but they were the best that could be got together; and manned and officered by devoted men, they could at least fight ships of their own size when the time came, and he trusted to be able to give a good account of the enemy, should they be so fortunate as to fall in with them. As for his own vessel, as his practised and critical eye surveyed the graceful proportions of the new and well-appointed ship, Seymour felt entirely satisfied with her. He regarded with pleasant appreciation the decks white as constant holy-stoning could make them, the long rows of grim black guns thrusting out their formidable muzzles on either side, and the lofty spars covered with clouds of new and snowy canvas. Everything was as neat and trim, and as ready, as ardor, experience, and ability, coupled with a generous expenditure from his own purse, could make them. He was satisfied with his officers and crew too. Seymour's reputation, his recent a.s.sociation with Paul Jones, the romantic story of his last successful cruise, the esteem in which he was held by Washington, and his own charming personality had conspired to render him a great favorite, and he had had the pick of Philadelphia's hardy seamen and gallant officers ere he sailed away. The three hundred and odd seamen and marines who comprised the crew were as fit and capable a body of men as ever trod the deck of a ship. Constant exercise and careful instruction, and drill and target practice, had made them exceedingly able in all the necessary manoeuvres, and in the handling of the guns.

Forward on the forecastle old Bentley was planted, surrounded by such of the older and more experienced petty officers and men as he permitted to a.s.sociate with him on terms of more or less familiarity.

Not only the position he occupied, that of boatswain of the frigate, gave him a vast importance with the men, but his age and experience, his long a.s.sociation with the captain, as well as some almost incredible tales of his familiar companionship with certain men of awe-inspiring name and great renown, with various mighty feats of arms in recent campaigns, vaguely current, conduced to make him the monarch of the forecastle, and the arbiter of the various discussions and arguments among the men, who rarely ventured to dispute the dictum of their oracle.

"Well, here we are pointing out again, thank the Lord!" he said to his particular friend and crony among the crew, the carpenter, Richard Spicer, a battered old sh.e.l.l-back, like himself. "There is only one place from which I like to see the land, Richard!"

"And where is that, bosun?"

"Over the stern, as now, mate, when we 're going free with a fair wind, and leaving it fast behind. I feel safer then. A time since and I felt as if I never wanted to see it again from any place. To think of me, a decent G.o.d-fearing, seafaring man, at my time of life, turning soldier!" It is not in the power of written language to express the peculiar intonation of contempt which the old man laid upon that inoffensive word, "soldier." No one venturing to interrupt him, after staring at his particular aversion for a few moments, he went on more mildly, and in a reflective tone,--

"Not but what I have seen some decent soldiers--a few. There was old Blodgett, and young Mr. Talbot, ay, and General Washington too! Now there 's a man for you, ship-mates. Lord, what a sailorman he would have made! They tell me he had a midshipman's warrant offered him when he was a lad once, and actually refused it--refused it! preferred to be a soldier, and what a chance he lost! Might have been an admiral by now!"

"I 've heard tell as how 't was his mother that prevented him from goin' to sea--when he was ready an' willin' an' waitin' to get aboard,"

returned one of the men.

"May be, may be. The result's the same. You never can tell what women, and 'specially mothers, will do. They 're necessary, of course, leastways it's generally believed we all had 'em, though I remember none myself, nor Captain Seymour neither, and he 's a pretty good sort of a man--let alone me--but they've no place aboard ship. Now look what this one did,--spoiled a man that had the makin's of a first-cla.s.s sailor in him, and turned him into a soldier!"

"But where would we be in this country of ours now, bosun, if it were not for the soldiers? No, no, don't be too hard on this man, Captain Washington; he 's done his duty, and is doing it very well, too, so I 'm told, accordin' to your own account, matey," replied the old carpenter; "and soldiers is good too--in their places, that is, of course," he went on deprecatingly. "There are two kinds of men, as I take it, William, to do the fightin' in this world, sailormen and soldiermen; each has a place, a station to fill, and something to do, and one can't do t' other's work. Look at that there blasted marine, aft there in the gangway, for instance; he's a good man, I make no manner o' doubt, and he has got his place on this barkey, even if he is only a kind of a soldier and no sailorman at all."

"Now I asks you, Chips, what particular good are soldiers, anyway, leaving marines out of the question, for they do live on ships," said the old sailorman. "What can they do that we can't? They can fight, and fight hard--I 've seen 'em, but so can we," he continued, extending his brawny arm; "and they can march, too,--I've seen their b.l.o.o.d.y footmarks in the snow; but there were sailormen there that kept right alongside of 'em and did all that they could do. Oh, I forgot one thing--they can ride horses, that's one thing I could never learn at all! You 'd ought to seen me on one of the land-lubberly brutes. A horse has no place on shipboard, no more than a woman, and I 've no use for either of 'em. But if this country would spend all its money buying ships, and man 'em with real first-cla.s.s sailormen, why, d'ye see, King George's men could never land on our sh.o.r.es at all. We 'd keep 'em off, and then there'd be no use for the soldiers; they could all go a-farming. No, give me ships every time, they always win. I know what I am talking about; I have been on the sh.o.r.e for a month at a time until I thought I would turn into mud itself. No, 't is not even a fit place to be buried in; 'earth to earth' won't do for me when I die; I just want to be dropped overboard--there."

"There is one time ships didn't win," said the carpenter, persisting in the argument, and pointing aft to the low mounds of sand backed by the rudely interlaced palmetto logs, behind which the gallant Moultrie had fought Barker's fleet six months before, until the ships had been driven off in defeat.

"Those were British ships, man," said the old sailor, with contempt.

"I meant Americans, of course; it makes all the difference in the world. But as for land--I hate it. It's only good to grow vegetables, and soft tack, and fresh water, and tar, and timber, and breed children to make sailormen out of--why, it's a sort of a cook's galley, a kitchen they call it there, for the sea at best! Give me the sight of blue water, and let me have the solid feel of the deck beneath my feet; no unsteady earth for me!"

"Well, that's my own opinion, too, bo. But, after all, that's all that ships is good for, anyway; just to sail from land to land and take people and things from place to place. The sea's between like."

"You look at it the wrong way, mate. Certain of us men have sense enough to live on the sea, and keep away from land, except for water and provision. We go from sea to sea, and land 's between."

"And what would you do for a country if we had no land? You 're always talking about lovin' your country, bosun."

"Ay, that I do," said the old man. "I look upon a country, that is a land country, as a kind of necessary evil. My country 's this ship, and yon flag, what it means and stands for. It means liberty, free waters, no interference with peaceful traders on the high seas, following their rightful pursuits, by British ships-of-war. Every man that has ever been aboard of one of those floating h.e.l.ls knows what liberty is not, well enough. No taxing of us by a Parliament on t'

other side of the world, neither. No king but the captain. Freedom!

So free that the lubberliest landsman on sh.o.r.e has a right to govern himself--if he can--subject to discipline and the commands of his superior officer, of course; and, besides, it's like a man's wife; if he's got to have one, he may beat her and abuse her, perhaps, but n.o.body else shall. No! Land's a pretty poor sort of a thing in general, but that aft there is the best there is going, and it 's our own. We 'll die for it, yes, for love of it, if it comes to that, even if we do hate it, on general principles mind, you understand."

There was evidently a trace of Irish blood in the old sailor, it would seem, and so saying, with a wave of his hand, which brushed aside further argument, he turned abruptly on his heel and walked aft. In spite of all his words, which only reflected the usual opinion of sailors, in those days at least, he yielded to no man in patriotism and devotion to the cause of liberty and the land that gave him birth. And no man in all Washington's army had done better service, marched more cheerfully, or fought harder than this veteran seaman. The men on the forecastle generally agreed with him in his propositions, but the obstinate old carpenter, with the characteristic tenacity of the ancient tar, maintained the discussion forward, until the sharp voice of the officer of the deck sent all hands to the braces. The ship was brought to the wind on the starboard tack, a manoeuvre which was followed in succession by the other vessels of the squadron, which had been previously directed to keep, though still within signal, at long distances from each other during the day, closing up at night, in order to spread a broad clew and give greater chance of meeting the enemy.

The young captain paced the quarter-deck alone--no man is ever so much alone among his fellows as the commander of a ship--a prey to his own sad thoughts. Those who had known him the gayest of gay young sailors in Philadelphia were at a loss to account for the change which had come over him. He had become the gravest of the grave, his cheery laugh was heard no more, and the baffled young belles of Charleston had voted him a confirmed woman-hater; though his melancholy, handsome face, graceful person, distinguished bearing, and high station might have enabled him to pick and choose where he would. But there was room in his heart for no more pa.s.sions. Even his love of country and liberty had degenerated into a slow, cold hate for the British, and a desperate resolve to do his duty, and make his animosity tell when he struck. A dangerous man under whom to sail, gentleman of the Randolph, and a dangerous man to meet, as well. He could not forget Kate, and, except in the distraction of a combat, life was a mere mechanical routine for him.

But because he had been well trained he went through it well--biding his time.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

_Seymour's Desperate Resolution_

Six rather uneventful days pa.s.sed by, during which prizes to the number of five fell to the lot of the squadron, one loaded with military stores, and another with provisions of great value. The lively little Fair American, being far to windward of the fleet, had also a smart action with a heavily armed British privateer, which struck her flag before the others could get within range, and was found to be loaded with valuable portable goods, the siftings of a long and successful cruise. Young Wilton had manoeuvred and fought his ship well, and had been publicly complimented in general orders by Seymour for skill and gallantry. The fleet had been exercised in signals and in various simple evolutions, the weather was most pleasant, the men in excellent spirits, and all that was necessary to complete their happiness was the appearance of the looked-for squadron of the enemy. The eager lookouts swept the seas unweariedly, but in vain, until early in the afternoon of the sixth day, the fleet being in Longitude 58 degrees 18 minutes West, Lat.i.tude 14 degrees 30 minutes North, about forty leagues east of Martinique, heading due west on the starboard tack, it was reported to Seymour, who was reading in the cabin, that the Fair American, again far in the lead and somewhat to windward, had signalled a large sail ahead. A short time should make her visible, if the vessels continued on the present course, and, after having called his fleet about him by signal, Seymour stood on for a nearer look at the stranger. An hour later she was visible from the deck of the Randolph, a very large ship, evidently a man-of-war under easy sail. The careful watchers could count three tiers of guns through the gla.s.s, which proclaimed her a ship of the line. From her motions, and the way she rose before them, she was evidently a very speedy ship, capable of outsailing every vessel of Seymour's little fleet without difficulty, except possibly the brig Fair American. It would be madness for the squadron of converted and lightly armed merchantmen to attack a heavy ship of that cla.s.s,--all who got near enough to do so would probably be sunk or captured; yet the approaching vessel must be delayed or checked, or the result would be equally serious to the fleet. Seymour at once formed a desperate resolution. Signalling to the four State cruisers and the six prizes to tack to the northeast, escape if possible, and afterward make the best of their way back to Charleston, he himself stood on with the little Randolph to engage the mighty stranger. At first the older seamen could scarce believe their eyes. Was it possible that Captain Seymour, in a small thirty-two-gun frigate, was about to engage deliberately and wilfully in a combat with a ship of the line, a seventy-four!--the difference in the number of guns giving no indication of the difference in the offensive qualities of the two ships, which might better be shown by a ratio of four or five to one in favor of the ship of the line. It was like matching a bull terrier against a mastiff. The men half suspected some wily manoeuvre which they could not divine; but as the moments fled away and they saw the rest of the fleet and the prizes slipping rapidly away to the northeast, the Fair American lagging unaccountably behind the rest of the fleet, while they still held their even course, they began to comprehend that they were to fight to save the fleet, and Seymour meant to sacrifice them deliberately, if necessary, in the hope of so crippling the enemy that his other little cruisers, and the prizes, might escape. They were not daunted, however--your true Jack is a reckless fellow--by the daring and desperate nature of the plan; quite the contrary!

In a few moments the familiar tones of Bentley's powerful voice, seconded by the cheery calls of his mates, rang through the frigate,--

"All hands clear ship for action--Ahoy!"

The piercing whistling of the pipes which followed was soon drowned by the steady and stirring roll of the drums, accompanied by the shrill notes of the fifes, beating to quarters. The old call, which has been the prelude to every action on the sea, ushering in with the same dreadful note of preparation every naval conflict for twice two hundred years, went rolling along the decks. At the first tap of the drum the men sprang, with the eagerness of unleashed hounds before the quarry, to their several stations.

In an instant the orderly ship was a babel of apparently hopeless confusion; the men running hastily to and fro about their various duties, the sharp commands of the officers, the shrill piping of the whistles, and the deep voices of the gun captains and the boatswain's mates, made the usually quiet deck a pandemonium. Some of the seamen stowed the hammocks on the rail to serve as a guard against shot and splinters, others triced up stout netting fore and aft, as a protection against boarders. The light and agile sail-trimmers rove extra slings on the yards, and put stoppers on the more important rigging, and tightened and strengthened the boats' gripes. The cabin bulkheads were unceremoniously knocked down and stowed away, giving a clean sweep fore and aft the decks. The pumps were rigged and tried, and hose led along the deck. Arm chests were broken out and opened, and cutla.s.ses and pistols distributed, and the racks filled with boarding-pikes.

Division tubs filled with water were placed beside the guns, and the decks sanded lest they should grow slippery with blood. The magazine, surrounded by a wetted woollen screen to prevent fire, was opened, and grape and solid shot broken out and piled in the racks about the hatchways near the guns, the heavy sea lashings of which were cast loose by the different crews, after which they were loaded and run out and temporarily secured, the slow matches having been carefully examined and lighted. The oldest quartermasters took their places near the helm, and others, a.s.sisted by a small body of men, manned the relieving tackles below, to be used in case, as frequently happened, the wheel should be shot away. The officers, many of whom put on boarding caps of light steel with dropped cheek pieces, and covered with fur, fastened on their arms, looked to the priming of their pistols, and then hastened to their various stations.

Most of the watch officers, under the direction of the first lieutenant or executive officer, were to take charge of the different gun divisions in the batteries; though one of them remained aft near the captain, to look after the spars and rigging, command the sail-trimmers, and see that any order of the captain touching the moving of the ship was promptly carried out. The surgeon and his mates went below into the gloomy c.o.c.kpit, spreading out the foreboding array of ghastly instruments and appliances, ready for the many demands certain to be made upon them. Some of the ubiquitous midshipmen commanded little groups of expert riflemen in the tops, which were well provided with hand grenades; others a.s.sisted the division lieutenants; and several were detailed as aids to the commanding officer. The little company of marines, under its own officers, was drawn up on the quarter-deck to keep down the fire of the enemy's small-arm men, and be ready to repel boarders, or head an attack, if the ships should come in contact. In that case grapnels, strong iron hooks securely fastened to the ends of stout ropes or slender iron chains, were provided at convenient intervals along the bulwarks, ready for catching and lashing the two ships together.

The men, their other duties performed, gradually settled down at the guns, or about the masts, or in the tops, in their several stations, many of them naked to the waist, and their deep voices could be heard answering to their names as they were mustered by the officers. In an incredibly short time the whole was done, and the impressive quiet was broken only by the excited voice of the first lieutenant, Nason--a young officer, and this his first serious battle--reporting to the gloomy captain that the ship was clear and ready for action.

Seymour had of course taken personal charge of the deck himself. Oh, he thought, after scanning closely the approaching ship with great care, if he had only a ship of the line under his command, instead of this little frigate, how gladly would he have entered the coming conflict! Or if his own small vessel had been, instead, one of those heavy frigates which afterward did so much to uphold the glory of American arms, and exhibit the skill and audacity of American seamen, in their subsequent conflict with Great Britain, he might have had a better chance; but none realized more entirely than he did himself the utter hopelessness of the undertaking which was before him. At the same time he was determined to carry it through, seeing, as few others could, the absolute necessity for the sacrifice, if he were to effect the escape of his fleet. Calling the men aft, he spoke briefly to them, pointing out the necessity for the conflict, and the n.o.bility of this sacrifice. He entreated them, in a few brave, manly, thrilling words, to stand by him to the last, for the love of their country and the honor of their flag. As for him, he declared it to be his fixed purpose never to give up the ship, but to sink alongside rather, trusting before that happened, however, so to damage his mighty antagonist as to compel her to relinquish the pursuit. The men, filled with the desire for battle, and inspired by his heroic words, were nerved up to the point where they would cheerfully have attacked not one line-of-battle ship but a whole fleet! They answered him with frantic cheers, swearing and vowing that they would stand by him to the bitter end; and then, everything having been done that could be done, in perfect silence the taut frigate boldly approached her ma.s.sive enemy.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

_The Prisoners on the Yarmouth_

It is usually not difficult for an individual to define the conditions of happiness. If I only had so and so, or if I only were so and so, and the thing is done. Each successive state, however, suggests one more happy, and each gratified wish leads to another desire more imperative. Miss Katharine Wilton, however, did not confine her conditions to units. There were in her case three requisites for happiness,--perfect happiness,--and could they have been satisfied, in all probability she would have come as near to the wished-for state as poor humanity on this earth ever does come to that beatific condition.

She certainly thought so, and with characteristic boldness had not refrained from communicating her thoughts to her father.

The astonishing feature of the situation was that he was inclined to agree with her. There was nothing astonishing in itself in his agreement with her, for he usually did agree with her, but in that her conditions were really his own. For it is rare, blessedly so, that two people feel that they require the same thing to complete the joy of life, and when they parallel on three points 't is most remarkable.

Even two lovers require each other--very different things, I am sure.

Stop! I am not so sure about the third proviso with the colonel. I say the third, because Miss Wilton put it number three, though perhaps it was like a woman's postscript, which somehow suggests the paraphrase of a familiar bit of Scripture,--the last, not will be, but should be, first!

Here are the requisites. One: The flag floating gracefully from the peak of the spanker gaff above them, in the light air of the sunny afternoon, should be the stars and stripes, instead of the red cross of St. George! Two: The prow of the ship should be turned to the wooded sh.o.r.es of Virginia, and the Old Dominion should be her destination instead of the chalk cliffs of England! Three: that a certain handsome, fair, blue-eyed, gallant sailor, who answered to the name of John Seymour, should be by her side instead of another, even though that other were one who had once saved her life, and to whose care and kindness and forethought she was much indebted. Her present attendant was certainly a gentleman; and to an unprejudiced eye--which hers certainly was not--quite as handsome and distinguished and gallant as was his favored rival, and boasting one advantage over the other in that he bore a t.i.tled name--not such a desideratum among American girls at that time, however, as it was afterwards destined to become; and in a girl of the stamp of Miss Katharine Wilton, possibly no advantage at all.

But, could the heart of that fair damsel be known, all talk of advantage or disadvantage, or this or that compensating factor, was absolutely idle! She was not a girl who did things by halves; and the feeling which had prompted her to give herself to the young sailor, though of sudden origin, had grown and grown during the days of absence and confinement, till, in depth and intensity, it matched his own. She was not now so sure that, among the other objects of her adoration, he would have to take the second place; that, in case of division, her heart would lead her to think first of her country. Insensibly had his image supplanted every other, and with all the pa.s.sionate devotion of her generous southern nature she loved him.

Lord Desborough had ample opportunity for ascertaining this fact. He had seen her risk her life for Seymour's own. He could never forget the glorious picture she made standing across the prostrate form of that young man, pistol in hand, keeping the mob at bay, never wavering, never faltering, clear-eyed, supreme. He would be almost willing to die to have her do the like for him. He could still hear the echo of that bitter cry,--"Seymour! Seymour!"--which rang through the house when they had dragged her away. These things were not pleasant reminiscences, but, like most other unpleasant memories, they would not down. In spite of all this, however, he had allowed himself--nay, his permission he vowed had not been asked--to fall violently in love with this little colonial maiden, and a country maiden at that! Not being psychologically inclined, he had never attempted to a.n.a.lyze her charm or to explain his sensations. Realizing the fact, and being young and therefore hopeful, he had not allowed himself to despair. Really, he had some claims upon her. Had he not interfered, she would have been murdered that night in the dining-room. He had earned the grat.i.tude then and there of her father, and of herself as well; and he had earned more of it too when he had shot dead a certain brutal marauding blackguard by the name of Johnson, at the first convenient opportunity, having received incidentally, in return for his message of death, a bullet in his own breast to remind him that there are always two persons and two chances in a duel. A part of the debt of the Wiltons had been paid by the a.s.siduous and solicitous care with which they--Katharine chiefly, of course--had nursed him through the long and dangerous illness consequent upon his wound. It was his interest which had prevented further ill treatment of them by the brutal and tyrannous Dunmore, and, had Katharine so elected, would have secured her freedom.

She had, however, to Desborough's great delight, chosen to accompany her father to England, where he was to be sent as a prisoner of high political consequence.

After waiting many weary days at the camp of the fugitive and deposed governor at Gwynn's Island, they had been separated from Desborough, and unceremoniously hustled on board the frigate Radnor, which was under orders for England. They had stopped long enough at Norfolk to witness Dunmore's savage and vindictive action in bombarding and burning that helpless town; and from that point Katharine had been enabled to send her letter to Seymour, through a friendly American spy, just before taking departure for their long voyage across the seas.

The orders of the Radnor had been changed at the last moment, however, and she had been directed to go in pursuit of Jones and the Ranger, which it was currently reported had got to sea from the Delaware Bay, bound for Canada and the Newfoundland coast. No vessel being ready for England at that time, the two prisoners had been transferred, fortunately for them, to a small ship bound to the naval station at Barbadoes; and thence, after another weary dreary wait, had been sent on board his Britannic majesty's ship Yarmouth, Captain John Vincent, bound home for England. The first lieutenant of this ship happened to be a certain Patrick Michael Philip O'Neal Drummond, Lord Desborough, son and heir to the Earl of Desmond! He congratulated himself most heartily upon his good fortune.

Providence had, then, thrown a lover again at Katharine's feet. Not that there was anything unusual in that. She might not regard it in a providential light, however; but he, at least did so, and he had intended to improve the shining hours of what would be a long cruise, in the close a.s.sociation permitted by the confined limits of the ship, to make a final desperate effort to win the heart which had hitherto so entirely eluded him that he could not flatter himself that he had made the least impression upon it. His success during the first three or four days of the cruise had not been brilliant. She had been unaffectedly glad to see him apparently, and gentle and kind in her reception,--too kind, he thought, with the circ.u.mspection of a lover,--but that was all. To add to his trials, he soon found himself not without rivals nearer at home than Seymour. Judging by present results, Washington, if he had a few regiments of Katharines, could carry consternation to the whole British army! For the captors had, apparently, taken the oath of allegiance to the captured, and the whole ship's company, from that gruff old sailor Captain Vincent down through all the other officers to the impudent and important little midshipman, were her devoted slaves. Even Jack forward, usually entirely unresponsive to the doings aft on the quarterdeck, put on an extra flourish or so, and d.a.m.ning his eyes, after the manner of the unsophisticated sailorman, gazed appreciatively upon her beauty, envying those fortunate mortals privileged to radiate about her person.

Vincent might be the captain, but Katharine was certainly the queen of the ship. Colonel Wilton, too, shone, not altogether by reflected l.u.s.tre either; and the considerate officers had done everything possible to make him forget that he was a prisoner.

Early one afternoon in the beginning of February, the Yarmouth, being under all plain sail with the wind two or three points abaft the beam, was bowling along under a fresh breeze about a day's sail east of Martinique. The weather was perfect, and because of the low lat.i.tude, in spite of the winter season, there was no touch of sharpness in the air, which was warm and delightful. All the necessary drills and exercises having been concluded earlier in the day, the whole ship's company was enjoying a period of unusual relaxation and idleness. The men at the wheel, the lookouts kept constantly at the mastheads, the marines doing sentry duty, with the midshipmen of the watch and the officer of the deck busily pacing to and fro, were the only people, out of the six hundred and odd men who made up the ship's complement, who presented any appearance of activity whatever. The men of the watch on and the watch off, dinner being over, were sitting or lounging about in all sorts of easy att.i.tudes,--some of them busy with their needles; others overhauling their clothes-bags, to which they had been given access that afternoon; others grouped about some more brilliant story-teller than the rest, eagerly drinking in the multifarious details of some exciting personal experience, or romantic adventure, or never-ending story of shipwreck or battle, or mystery--technically, yarns! Colonel Wilton was standing aft with Captain Vincent in the shadow of the spanker. Miss Wilton, with Chloe, her black maid, behind her chair, was sitting near the break of the p.o.o.p-deck, looking forward, surrounded by several lieutenants; Desborough being at her right hand, of course, feeling and looking unusually gloomy and morose.

One or two of the oldest and boldest midshipmen were also lingering on the outskirts of the group, as near to their divinity as they dared come in the presence of their superior officers. The conversation happening to turn, as it frequently did, upon the subject of the present war between England and the colonies engaged in rebellion against the paternal power, was unusually animated.