Peter Simple Part 34

"A very nice lad--very slight, sir," replied the first lieutenant. "We have two vacancies."

"Well, see what you make of him: and if you think he will do, you may put him on the books."

"I have tried him, sir. He says that he has been a short time at sea.

I made him mount the main-rigging, but he did not much like it."

"Well, do as you please, Osbaldistone," replied O'Brien. And the first lieutenant quitted the cabin.

In about a quarter of an hour he returned. "If you please, sir," said he, laughing, "I sent the boy down to the surgeon to be examined, and he refused to strip. The surgeon says that he thinks she is a woman I have had her up on the quarter-deck, and she refused to answer any questions, and requires to speak with you."

"With me!" said O'Brien, with surprise. "Oh! one of the men's wives, I suppose, trying to steal a march upon us. Well, send her down here, Osbaldistone, and I'll prove to her the moral impossibility of her sailing in His Majesty's brig _Rattlesnake_."

In a few minutes, the first lieutenant sent her down to the cabin door, and I was about to retire as she entered; but O'Brien stopped me.

"Stay, Peter; my reputation will be at stake if I'm left all alone,"

said he, laughing.

The sentry opened the door, and, whether boy or girl, a more interesting face I never beheld; but the hair was cut close like a boy's, and I could not tell whether the surgeon's suspicions were correct.

"You wish to speak--holy Saint Patrick!" cried O'Brien, looking earnestly at her features; and O'Brien covered his face, and bent over the table, exclaiming, "My G.o.d, my G.o.d!"

In the meantime, the colour of the young person fled from her countenance, and then rushed into it again, alternately leaving it pale and suffused with blushes. I perceived a trembling over the frame, the knees shook and knocked together, and had I not hastened, she--for a female it was--would have fallen on the deck.

I perceived that she had fainted; I therefore laid her down on the deck, and hastened to obtain some water. O'Brien ran up, and went to her.

"My poor, poor girl!" said he sorrowfully. "Oh! Peter, this is all your fault."

"All my fault! How could she have come here?"

"By all the saints who pray for us--dearly as I prize them, I would give up my ship and my commission, that this could be undone."

As...o...b..ien hung over her, the tears from his eyes fell upon her face, while I bathed it with the water I had brought from the dressing-room.

I knew who it must be, although I had never seen her. It was the girl to whom O'Brien had professed love, to worm out the secret of the exchange of my uncle's child; and as I beheld the scene, I could not help saying to myself, "Who now will a.s.sert that evil may be done that good may come?" The poor girl showed symptoms of recovering, and O'Brien waved his hand to me, saying, "Leave us, Peter, and see that no one comes in."

I remained nearly an hour at the cabin-door, by the sentry, and prevented many from entering, when O'Brien opened the door, and requested me to order his gig to be manned, and then to come in. The poor girl had evidently been weeping bitterly, and O'Brien was much affected.

"All is arranged, Peter; you must go on sh.o.r.e with her, and not leave her till you see her safe off by the night coach. Do me that favour, Peter--you ought indeed," continued he, in a low voice, "for you have been partly the occasion of this."

I shook O'Brien's hand, and made no answer--the boat was reported ready, and the girl followed me with a firm step. I pulled on sh.o.r.e, saw her safe in the coach, without asking her any question, and then returned on board.

"Come on board, sir," said I, entering the cabin with my hat in my hand, and reporting myself according to the regulations of the service.

"Thank you," replied O'Brien: "shut the door, Peter. Tell me, how did she behave?--what did she say?"

"She never spoke, and I never asked her a question. She seemed to be willing to do as you had arranged."

"Sit down, Peter. I never felt more unhappy, or more disgusted with myself in all my life. I feel as if I never could be happy again. A sailor's life mixes him up with the worst part of the female s.e.x, and we do not know the real value of the better. I little thought when I was talking nonsense to that poor girl, that I was breaking one of the kindest hearts in the world, and sacrificing the happiness of one who would lay down her existence for me, Peter. Since you have been gone, it's twenty times that I've looked in the gla.s.s just to see whether I don't look like a villain. But by the blood of St. Patrick! I thought woman's love was just like our own, and that a three months' cruise would set all to rights again."

"I thought she had gone over to France."

"So did I; but now she has told me all about it. Father O'Toole and her mother brought her down to the coast near here, to embark in a smuggling boat for Dieppe. When the boat pulled in-sh.o.r.e in the night to take them in, the mother and the rascally priest got in, but she felt as if it were leaving the whole world to leave the country I was in, and she held back. The officers came down, one or two pistols were fired, the boat shoved off without her, and she, with their luggage, was left on the beach. She went back to the next town with the officers, where she told the truth of the story, and they let her go. In Father O'Toole's luggage she found letters, which she read, and found out that she and her mother were to have been placed in a convent at Dieppe; and, as the convent was named in the letters--which she says are important, but I have not had courage to read them yet--she went to the people from whose house they had embarked, requesting them to forward the luggage and a letter to her mother--sending everything but the letters, which she reserved for me. She has since received a letter from her mother, telling her that she is safe and well in the convent, and begging her to come over to her as soon as possible. The mother took the vows a week after she arrived there, so we know where to find her, Peter."

"And where is the poor girl going to stay now, O'Brien?"

"That's all the worst part of it. It appears that she hoped not to be found out till after we had sailed, and then to have--as she said, poor thing!--to have laid at my feet and watched over me in the storms; but I pointed out to her that it was not permitted, and could not be, and that I would not be allowed to marry her. Oh, Peter! this is a very sad business," continued O'Brien, pa.s.sing his hand across his eyes.

"Well, but, O'Brien, what is to become of the poor girl?"

"She is going home to be with my father and mother, hoping one day that I shall come back and marry her. I have written to Father McGrath to see what he can do."

"Have you then not undeceived her?"

"Father McGrath must do that, I could not. It would have been the death of her. It would have stabbed her to the heart, and it's not for me to give that blow. I'd sooner have died--sooner have married her, than have done it, Peter. Perhaps when I'm far away she'll bear it better.

Father McGrath will manage it."

"O'Brien, I don't like that Father McGrath."

"Well, Peter, you maybe right; I don't exactly like all he says myself; but what is a man to do?--either he is a Catholic, and believes as a Catholic, or he is not one. Will I abandon my religion, now that it is persecuted? Never, Peter; I hope not, without I find a much better, at all events. Still, I do not like to feel that this advice of my confessor is at variance with my own conscience. Father McGrath is a wordly man; but that only proves that he is wrong, not that our religion is--and I don't mind speaking to you on this subject. No one knows that I'm a Catholic except yourself: and at the Admiralty they never asked me to take that oath which I never would have taken, although Father McGrath says I may take any oath I please with what he calls heretics, and he will grant me absolution. Peter, my dear fellow, say no more about it."

I did not; but I may as well end the history of poor Ella Flanagan at once, as she will not appear again. About three months afterwards, we received a letter from Father McGrath, stating that the girl had arrived safe, and had been a great comfort to O'Brien's father and mother, who wished her to remain with them altogether; that Father McGrath had told her that when a man took his commission as captain it was all the same as going into a monastery as a monk, for he never could marry. The poor girl believed him, and thinking that O'Brien was lost to her for ever, with the advice of Father McGrath, had entered as a nun in one of the religious houses in Ireland, that, as she said, she might pray for him night and day. Many years afterwards, we heard of her--she was well, and not unhappy but O'Brien never forgot his behaviour to this poor girl. It was a source of continual regret; and I believe, until the last day of his existence, his heart smote him for his inconsiderate conduct towards her. But I must leave this distressing topic, and return to the _Rattlesnake_, which had now arrived at the West Indies, and joined the admiral at Jamaica.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

DESCRIPTION OF THE COAST OF MARTINIQUE--POPPED AT FOR PEEPING--NO HEROISM IN MAKING ONESELF A TARGET--BOARD A MINIATURE NOAH'S ARK, UNDER YANKEE COLOURS--CAPTURE A FRENCH SLAVER--PARROT SOUP IN LIEU OF MOCK TURTLE.

We found orders at Barbadoes to cruise off Martinique, to prevent supplies being furnished to the garrison of the island, and we proceeded there immediately. I do not know anything more picturesque than running down the east side of this beautiful island--the ridges of hill spreading down to the water's edge, covered with the freshest verdure, divided at the base by small bays, with the beach of dazzling white sand, and where the little coasting vessels, employed to bring the sugar from the neighbouring estates, were riding at an anchor. Each hill, at its ajutment towards the sea, was crowned with a fort, on which waves the tri-colour--certainly, in appearance, one of the most warlike flags in the world.

On the third morning, we had rounded the Diamond Rock, and were scudding along the lee-side of the island, just opening Fort Royal bay, when, hauling rather too close round its eastern entrance, formed by a promontory called Solomon's Point, which was covered with brushwood, we found ourselves nearer than agreeable to a newly-constructed battery. A column of smoke was poured along the blue water, and it was followed by the whizzing of a shot, which pa.s.sed through our boom mainsail, first cutting away the dog-vane, which was close to old Swinburne's head, as he stood on the carronade, conning the brig. I was at dinner in the cabin with O'Brien and the first lieutenant.

"Where the devil have they got the brig now?" said O'Brien, rising from his chair, and going on deck.

We both followed; but before we were on deck, three or four more shots pa.s.sed between the masts. "If you please, sir," said the master's mate in charge of the deck, whose name was O'Farrel, "the battery has opened upon us."

"Thank you very much for your information, Mr O'Farrel," replied O'Brien; "but the French have _reported_ it before you. May I ask if you've any particular fancy to be made a target of, or if you think that His Majesty's brig _Rattlesnake_ was sent here to be riddled for nothing at all? Starboard the helm, quarter-master."

The helm was put up, and the brig was soon run out of the fire; not, however, until a few more shot were pitched close to us; and one carried away the fore-topmast backstay.

"No, Mr O'Farrel," replied O'Brien, "I only wish to point out to you, that I trust neither I nor any one in this ship cares a fig about the whizzing of a shot or two about our ears, when there is anything to be gained for it, either for ourselves or for our country; but I do care a great deal about losing even the leg, or the arm, much more the life of any of my men, when there's no occasion for it; so in future, recollect it's no disgrace to keep out of the way of a battery, when all the advantage is on their side I've always observed that chance shots pick out the best men. Lower down the mainsail and send the sailmaker aft to repair it."

When O'Brien returned to the cabin, I remained on deck, for it was my afternoon watch; and although O'Farrel had permission to look out for me, I did not choose to go down again. The bay of Fort Royal was now opened, and the view was extremely beautiful. Swinburne was still on the carronade, and as I knew he had been there before, I applied to him for information as to the _locale_. He told me the names of the batteries above the town, pointed out Fort Edward, and Negro Point, and particularly Pigeon Island, the battery at the top of which wore the appearance of a mural crown.

"It's well I remember that place, Mr Simple," said he. "It was in '94 when I was last here. The sodgers had 'sieged it for a whole month, and were about to give it up, 'cause they couldn't get a gun up on that 'ere hill you sees there. So poor Captain Faulkner says, 'There's many a clear head under a tarpaulin hat, and I'll give any chap five doubloons that will hitch up a twenty-four pounder to the top of that hill.' Not quite so easy a matter, as you may perceive from here, Mr Simple."

"It certainly appears to me to have been almost impossible, Swinburne,"

replied I.

"And so it did to most of us, Mr Simple; but there was one d.i.c.k Smith, mate of a transport, who had come on sh.o.r.e, and he steps out, saying, 'I've been looking at your men handling that gun, and my opinion is, that if you gets a b.u.t.t, crams in a carronade, well woulded up, and fill it with old junk and rope yarns, you might parbuckle it up to the very top.' So Captain Faulkner pulls out five doubloons, and gives them to him, saying, 'You deserve the money for the hint, even if it don't succeed.' But it did succeed, Mr Simple; and the next day, to their surprise, we opened fire on the French beggars, and soon brought their boasting down. One of the French officers, after he was taken prisoner, axed me how we had managed to get the gun up there but I wasn't going to blow the gaff, so I told him as a great secret, that we got it up with a kite; upon which he opened all his eyes, and crying '_Sacre bleu_!'

walked away, believing all I said was true; but a'n't that a sail we have opened with the point, Mr Simple?"