Kilgorman Part 32

"Where is Tim?" I asked again, louder, and with a pluck at the sleeve of the man nearest me.

"Where all the rest are," replied the man, "if you mean the lieutenant."

I crawled from where I lay and came beside him on the bench.

"Drowned?" I asked.

"There was only room for one of you when we picked you up. He made us take you, and it was all we could do to get you aboard."

"And Tim?"

"We gave him a rope to lash him to his spar, and lost sight of him."

Half-drowned and bruised as I was, this blow sent me back to the bottom of the boat like one already dead. What had I to live for now?

When I came to myself next a change had come over the scene. The sea had quieted down, the afternoon sun was striking across the waves, and ahead of us, on the northern horizon, was a low, grey line of coast.

But it was not at that that all eyes were turned, but at a n.o.ble-looking ship hove-to in the offing, not a mile away, and flying a signal from her peak.

Our men had sighted her an hour ago, and rigged up an oar with a rag at the end, which the ship had observed. And what all eyes were now intent on was her pinnace, as she covered the distance between us.

It was always my luck to be rescued when I had least heart for life, and I confess if I had seen the boat capsize that moment I should have been well enough pleased.

But she had no notion of capsizing. Long before she came up we could see that she was manned by smart English blue-jackets, and belonged to a line-of-battle ship in the king's navy--one of the very ships, no doubt, that Captain Keogh had been so anxious to avoid in Galway Bay.

Half-an-hour later we were on the shining deck of his majesty's ship _Diana_, thirty-eight guns, standing out, with all sails set, for the wide Atlantic. My comrades were too thankful to find themselves alive, with food to eat and dry clothes to put on, to concern themselves as to the ship's destination. But I, who yearned to know and share the fate of those I loved, groaned as I saw the coast-line drop astern, and realised that, after all, I was as far from home as ever.

As soon as we were revived and fed--and I am bound to confess we were humanely treated in that respect--a ship's officer came forward and questioned us.

I, as brother to the lieutenant, was put forward to answer; and I told him all, not omitting our contraband cargo, or the manner of my own joining the _Kestrel_.

"Well, lads," said the officer, "you've paid for your bit of fun. If the _Diana_ had had her full complement of men, you might have been whistling in the breakers still. Now you belong to his Majesty, and your names are entered on the books of his ship. It's more than you deserve, but that can't be helped. Report yourselves to the boatswain."

"Begging your pardon," said I, "I have business in Ireland that presses, and--"

"Hold your tongue, sir," said the officer, turning on his heel.

The land was now out of sight; the ship's course was due west; every sail was full. The boatswain's whistle was calling to quarters. Tim, and Miss Kit, and Fanad, and Kilgorman were part of an ended life.

There was nothing for it but to grin and bear it.

So I reported myself, and wrote my name on the books, and became a servant for life of his Majesty.

Now it is no part of my story to relate all that happened to me during the year or two that followed. Not that it was without adventure or peril, or that it would not bear the repet.i.tion. On the contrary, if I only knew how to write a book (which none of those who read what I have written so far would be cruel enough to impute to me), I could fill a volume with adventures which not many sea-dogs could show a match to.

But somehow those years, save in a few particulars, never seemed to rank as part of my life. Just as when you come to the old cabin at Fanad, and want to reach Kilgorman, you find a mile or two of water in your way, which, though it has to be traversed, belongs neither to one side nor to the other, so I reckon those years as years by themselves, making only a break in the coast-line of my story.

The _Diana_, spent most of her time in foreign waters, whither no news of any of those I desired to hear of reached me. For a year we cruised in the West Indies, fighting Frenchmen and yellow fever and pirates.

Then a summons came to take a convoy into Indian waters, where we were engaged in protecting English merchantmen from the depredations of French and Spanish privateers. Then, just as the welcome order to return to Europe arrived, an engagement in the Persian Gulf disabled us, and compelled us to put into the nearest port for repairs. And before we were fit to sail again, a sudden demand for reinforcements in the West Indies called us back there, where we fought the Frenchmen every other day.

That was the one part of the business I liked best. Every broadside we poured into the enemy helped to wipe out my scores against the Republic One and Indivisible. I am told I distinguished myself more than once in the course of the cruise, though I can take little credit to myself for disinterested gallantry if I did. I had only to call to mind the vision of my dear little mistress as I saw her last, pale and scared in the squalid attic in the Quai Necker, with her bright eyes turned on mine, with her hand on my arm, and her voice, "Come back early, Barry," to make a demon of me, as with my cutla.s.s in my teeth I sprang on to the enemy's rigging, and dashed for his hatchways.

I cared so little for my life in those days that I was ready for any reckless or desperate adventure, and was pretty sure to be selected as one of the party when any specially critical exploit called for volunteers. If I bore a charmed life it was no credit of mine, and if I had more than my fair chance of distinguishing myself it was because the adventure always comes to the adventurous, not that I was greedy of what belonged to others.

On one occasion--it was an evening towards the end of our long term of service in foreign waters--I found myself not only lucky but famous, in a way I had never dreamed of. We were lying off Chanson, a French island, embayed by a strong gale of wind, and uncomfortably near the range of a fort, with which for some hours we had been exchanging distant shots of defiance. Captain Swift, our commander, would have liked, had it been possible, to secure himself more sea-room; but as the wind then blew it did not seem safe to attempt to shift our anchorage, and incur the risk of getting further under the guns than we were.

Captain Swift was in the act of debating with his officers as to the advisability of sending an expedition ash.o.r.e to deal with the fort, when the look-out man announced two French sail in the offing bearing down on us.

This decided the question. To stay where we were was to wait to be caught between the two fires of the ships and the fort. We must get out of the bay somehow, and to do it we must make a desperate effort to silence the fort.

Two boats were ordered out, each in charge of a midshipman and a petty officer. Twenty men were told off for each boat. Our instructions were, as soon as night fell, to put off for sh.o.r.e, land at two different points a mile apart, and approach the fort from opposite sides. The _Diana_, meanwhile, was to slip her cables and attempt the perilous feat of warping out of the bay, so as to be ready for the French ships.

Much depended on the prompt.i.tude and success with which the expeditionary force tackled the fort. For if morning dawned with its guns on our lee-side and the two enemies to windward, there was little chance of getting out of the dilemma.

The lieutenant in charge of the first boat selected me among his crew.

With cutla.s.ses and pistols in our belts, a coil of rope over our shoulders, and spiking gear handy, we took our places silently, and waited impatiently for the dark. The sun as usual in those parts toppled down suddenly into the sea, and almost before the last edge of his...o...b..dipped, we were on our way for the sh.o.r.e. Our only difficulty in landing was the heavy surf, which nearly stove in our boat. We managed to beach it, however, without much damage, and then started at a run for our destination.

Before we reached it we heard shouts and the sharp crack of muskets, which told us our manoeuvre had been detected and prepared for.

Then followed a regular race, led by the officers. While some fell, others would get in; but that we should all return to the _Diana_ was not to be hoped for.

The guns of the fort were so placed that once under them they could do little harm. Our danger came from the enemy's infantry, who were evidently in reserve to protect the guns.

Now I had spent part of the day in carefully studying the fort through a telescope, and had come to the conclusion that a few nimble fellows, by aid of ropes and the trees whose branches almost overhung the wall behind, could enter it by the rear, and possibly, by creating a diversion in that quarter, help the main body who attacked it from the front. As soon as the order for a rush was given, I called on a few of my comrades--among them one or two of the _Kestrel_ men--to follow me and make the attempt. We made a long detour, and, as I expected, found little or no difficulty in reaching the trees.

Once up these, it was not a very difficult feat to swing ourselves on to the top of the broad wall and so gain the yard, where we could even now see the gunners hard at work.

"Now, lads," whispered I, "each pick your man, fire when I give the signal, and then for the guns."

There were but six guns, each manned by two men, and so intent were they on the attack in front that they had not so much as the tail of an eye for the rear. There were five of us in all. We kept well in the shadow till we covered each our man. Then I gave the signal. The pistols rang out, followed by a loud British cheer, as we rushed forward, cutla.s.s in hand, on the gunners. Aided by darkness and surprise, and the good aim of our first volley, we were soon on equal terms as regarded numbers; and after that there was of course no question as to whom the guns belonged. Two of our fellows were killed and one wounded, leaving but me and one other to haul down the French flag.

Our orders had been to spike the guns, but as things had turned out it seemed better now to hold them, and if possible turn them on the enemy.

All had been done so quickly that those without knew nothing of what had happened. We could hear the firing grow feebler and more distant, and guessed that our men had been outnumbered, and were being chased down to their boats. In the present darkness we could do nothing to help them; for even if we could have lowered the guns enough to cover them, our shot might have hurt them more than the enemy.

Our only hope was in the faint glow of dawn on the horizon, and the prospect, in a few minutes, of sufficient daylight to work by.

Meanwhile we loaded, and reconnoitred the fort, in readiness for the moment of action.

Day came at last, and showed us the _Diana_ with the two French ships close-hauled, trying to keep their weather-gage. Our men ash.o.r.e were still hemmed in between the fort and the troops, who, now we came to look at them, were posted in force behind some earthworks which commanded the pa.s.sage from the sh.o.r.e to the fort. One of our boats was stove in, and the other was in the hands of the enemy.

Without a gla.s.s it was hard to read the signals on the _Diana_; but she must have noticed that the French flag on the fort was down, for we saw her set her sails and prepare to meet her two a.s.sailants in the open.

If she could only get the weather-gage, we would startle the Frenchmen in a way which would amaze them.

As for our own fellows ash.o.r.e, a pounding shot from one of our guns, which we contrived to lower sufficiently to command the earthworks, soon apprised them what was in the wind, and with a rush they made for the now friendly fort. The enemy followed, but too slowly to prevent their entrance. The few shots they sent were wild and high. Only one took effect, and that, alas! was on my faithful comrade; so that when the gate was opened, I was the only man left to hand over the fort to his Majesty's officers.

After that, we made short business of the Republic One and Indivisible in the island of Chanson. The _Diana_ slipped out cleverly in the wind's eye, with a broadside a-piece to her opponents, who, when they found themselves caught between the two fires, thought better of their enterprise, and tried to get out of it.

Only one of them succeeded; and our fellows spent a merry morning and afternoon with the other, boarding her and running the king's flag to the top of her mainmast.