Salt Water Part 9

We were lying one day soon after this in Portsmouth Harbour, off Haslar Creek, ready to start for the westward. It was Sunday. My uncle had gone over to Ryde, and I was in hopes of getting across in the afternoon to visit my aunt and her guest. I had turned out in full fig; and while all the people were below dressing for muster, I walked the deck as officer of the watch, with my spy-gla.s.s under my arm, looking out for the signal from the flag-ship to make it eight-bells. I felt very important, but I have reasons to doubt whether I looked proportionably consequential. All the ships in the harbour and at Spithead ran up their bunting at the same moment; and I had just belayed our signal halliards when I saw a boat, crowded with seamen and marines, putting off from a frigate lying right ahead of us. The tide was running strong out of the harbour. A young midshipman was at the helm, and he did not seem to have made due allowance for the strength of the current. The consequence was that the boat drifted down some way below the intended place of landing, and while he was putting her head up the harbour to regain his lost ground, her keel struck the mast of a barge which had sunk the day before, and which scarcely showed above the water. In an instant over she went, and the people in her were spilt out into the eddying, rushing tide-way. Some struck out for the sh.o.r.e, a few clung on the boat, and others came drifting down helplessly with the current.

So suddenly had the accident occurred, that I had not a moment to consider what was best to be done, nor to call any one from below.

Fortunately we had a punt alongside. Casting off the painter, I jumped into her, and shoved off to where three men were struggling, close ahead of the cutter. I caught hold of one who was just sinking, and hauled him over the bows, while the other two got in without my help. I looked round to see what had become of the rest of the people. Two marines were clinging to the keel of the boat, and she was on the point of striking our stern, by which she would have been carried under our bottom, when I sculled alongside and got the two jollies on board. By the glance I had had at her just before, I observed that another person had been with them, while, as I was getting in the three first men, a cry for help had reached my ears.

"Oh! sir, there's Mr --- gone, poor fellow!" exclaimed one of the marines saved. "There he is, though!"

Directly under the water, where he pointed, I saw a head of hair or a bunch of seaweed, I could not tell which; but, on the chance of its being the former, I sculled up to it. The sun shone forth brightly, and I caught a glimpse of a human face convulsed with agony beneath the tide. Twice it eluded me; but stretching out my arm, and almost going overboard and capsizing our already over-crowded boat, I got firm hold of a person by the hair, who, I saw, had a midshipman's patch on the collar of his jacket. I had some difficulty in getting the seemingly lifeless body of my brother officer into the boat.

Seeing that there was no one else to be saved--for several boats had shoved off from the sh.o.r.e and vessels at anchor near at hand to pick up the rest of the people--I paddled my nearly sinking boat alongside the cutter. Hearing my hail as I jumped into the punt, the crew had rushed on deck, and were standing ready to hand on board the half-drowned midshipman and the men I had been the means of saving. The latter were none the worse for their ducking, except that their clothes were wettish.

"You'll want a clean shirt, mate," said one of our people to a Patlander from the frigate.

"Arrah! now didn't I put a dry one in my pocket this blessed morning; so it will be all handy for me," he exclaimed, diving into the recesses of his dripping peacoat.

The midshipman, who was still insensible, was, by Hanks' advice, carried down into the gun-room. We were unwilling to run the risk of the delay which must have occurred had he been conveyed on board his own ship.

"Bring a gla.s.s of hot grog; and let it be pretty stiff, steward!" said Hanks, as we were engaged in stripping our patient and putting him into my berth between the blankets.

We then set to work to rub his body with a coa.r.s.e worsted sock, the first suitable thing which came to hand. Having got some of the salt water he had swallowed out of his mouth, Hanks poured a little warm grog into it instead. This, with the rubbing, had the effect of speedily restoring animation. In a few minutes he opened his eyes, and tried to sit up and look about him.

"Hillo! where am I? I say, are the poor fellows all picked up?" he asked, in a weak tone.

I liked him at once for thinking of his men.

"All right, mate," I answered; "no harm has come of the capsize, except a few wet jackets."

Just then, on looking round, I saw a man, who by his uniform I knew to be a naval surgeon, standing near me. "So I see you've saved me my work, gentlemen," he said, smiling. "You could not have acted better than you appear to have done; and, thanks to you, we shall soon have him all right again."

"Thank'ee, Doctor, I've come round pretty well already," sung out the midshipman. "But, I say, mate, I just want another gla.s.s of your stuff.

It's prime physic."

The medico smelt the tumbler, which stood on the table full of grog, and then felt the youngster's pulse and looked at his tongue.

"You may take half a gla.s.s--it's quite enough for you, and then we'll have you wrapped up in blankets, and carried on board," he answered.

"Oh, thank'ee, Doctor, I'm very comfortable where I am, and my clothes ain't dried yet; so if you'll let me stay here, I think it would be the better for me," said the midshipman.

The Doctor's objections, if he had any, were soon overruled; and, telling the midshipman to return on board the frigate as soon as his clothes were dry, he quitted the cutter.

"What's your name, mate?" asked my new friend, as he was sipping his gla.s.s of grog.

I told him.

"Mine's Richard Sharpe; but I'm mostly called d.i.c.ky Sharpe," he answered. "Some of my messmates give me all sorts of names; but I don't mind them. As long as they don't cob me, it's all very well. I'm a happy fellow, and ready for all the ups and downs of life. I'm pretty well wide awake, and know my duty, so I don't often get mast-headed. If I happen to get a fall, I generally manage to pitch on my feet; and as I'm some day or other to come into a fortune, I'm not troubled about the future. If the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty give me my promotion, it will be all very well; if not, why they'll have to dispense with my valuable services, and the country will be the loser."

I was highly edified by Master d.i.c.ky's philosophy, and I at once conceived a great regard and respect for him.

"Now, D'Arcy, my boy," he continued, in his free and easy tone, "it's stupid work lying here between the blankets; so if you'll just give me the loan of some of your toggery till mine are dry, I'll sit up at table and crack a bottle of wine with you."

I had to remind him of the early hour, and to confess that wine our mess did not possess, but that he should have some breakfast and hot tea, which would be better for him, and that he should be welcome to my clothes.

While he was seated at table, Hanks, who had gone on deck to see the medico off, returned. "Well, D'Arcy, I told him how you had saved the youngster and the other men," he said. "It will be a feather in your cap, my lad, and you deserve to wear it."

"What!" exclaimed my volatile young friend, grasping my hand, while the tears came into his eyes, "you saved me from drowning. On my word, I'm very much obliged to you. I shouldn't like to have become food for fishes just yet. I'd rather eat a few dinners off them first."

"Oh, faith, I could not have done less if you'd been only a sheep or a pig," I answered, laughing; "so you've little to thank me for."

"I suppose, though, even a sheep or a pig would have tried to show their grat.i.tude, unless you had intended to turn them into mutton and pork directly afterwards," replied d.i.c.ky Sharpe. "So, D'Arcy, I must look upon you as my friend and preserver; and I just wish, when you can get leave, that you would come down and see my governor and mother and sisters. They won't make much of you, won't they, that's all."

I told him that I should be very glad to accept his invitation if I could; but at the time I was thinking that my aunt and Miss Alice would admire the feather Hanks said I might wear in my cap more than anybody else. I never met a merrier or more contented fellow than d.i.c.ky Sharpe.

I was quite sorry to lose him when his clothes were dry and a boat came alongside to take him on board his ship, the _Cynthia_, What was my surprise to receive by her, at the same time, a note from the captain of the frigate, inviting me to dine with him on the following day, stating that he wished to thank me for the presence of mind I had displayed in saving the lives of one of his midshipmen and several of his people.

"I'm glad to hear it," exclaimed Hanks. "It shows your talents are not hid under a bushel; and now get away over to Ryde with that note in your pocket, and explain its meaning in the best way you can."

I jumped into a wherry just then pa.s.sing, and in less than an hour landed at Ryde Pier, whence I found my way up to Daisy Cottage. My aunt was delighted to hear my story, which, I flatter myself, I told with all the innate modesty of an Irishman. Alice, I thought, blushed her approval most sweetly; and my uncle congratulated me warmly. I spent a very pleasant evening, some of the time walking with Alice on the sh.o.r.e, and resting under the trees, which come almost close down to the water's edge. I found that I could not dine with Captain Bruff, as we were to sail next morning for the westward; so I was obliged to be content with the empty honour of the invitation; and, I dare say, my absence did not break his heart. I was more sorry to miss seeing d.i.c.ky Sharpe again, as I should have liked to have had another palaver with him; and before our return the _Cynthia_ would probably have sailed.

CHAPTER NINE.

A CHASE--A PRIZE--CAPTURE A FRENCH SMUGGLER--OUR PRISONER'S POLITENESS-- DO NOT TRUST A GREEK, EVEN WHEN POLITE.

At the hour I was asked to dine with Captain Bruff we were running out at the Needles, with a fresh breeze and a thick, drizzling rain, which called pea-coats and sou'westers into requisition. We cruised about for three or four days without seeing anything suspicious; not a tub afloat, nor a craft with a smuggling look about her. At last we found something to give us employment. One evening a mist settled down over the water, which, though there was a good breeze, was perfectly calm. Although the night was in no ways dark, yet the density of the fog prevented our seeing beyond the bowsprit end, or even so far. It was just such a night as a smuggler delights in. The cutter was on her old ground, off Portland Bill. We were slipping through the water at the rate of some five or six knots an hour, when Stretcher, who was standing close to me, exclaimed, "Ah! see there, sir; there's a craft of some sort right away to leeward, trying to steal off from us." I looked, and could just distinguish the shadowy form of a sail through the mist. The Commander was called, and the cutter was instantly kept away in chase. Jack p.r.o.nounced her to be a wherry; but I thought her something much larger.

The wind was from the southward, and she, choosing what was probably her best point of sailing, made for the English coast. She sailed well; but we kept her in sight, for daylight had just broke, and the mist had partially cleared away. As soon as my uncle came on deck he ordered a shot to be fired wide of her, to make her heave-to. She paid no attention to it.

"Fire another, Stretcher, right into her this time, and we will make her show her quality," said he.

The mists had now cleared off sufficiently to show that she was a wherry, though rather a small one. The shot went through her foresail, but still she held on. She was heavily laden, and her crew must have seen that her chance of escape was small, if not impossible. To render this still more difficult, it was every instant growing lighter and lighter. There were numerous sharp eyes on board the cutter fixed on her, and we now perceived her crew heaving the tubs overboard as fast as they could. They fancied, probably, that we could not see them. There were no weights attached to them, so they floated; but as we had no time to stop and pick them up, we noted carefully our course as we pa.s.sed them, so as to be able to find them again.

"Fire away at her, my lads, till she heaves-to," cried my uncle, seeing that she still held on.

"Surely she'll not get away from us," I remarked to Jack.

"Not so sure of that, Mr D'Arcy," he answered. "Now she's got her cargo out of her, should the wind fall on a sudden, and the fog come on thicker, she may contrive to hide herself away in it before we can get our boats out."

The fog deceived us as to her true distance from us, for after the first, none of our shot struck her, though that mattered nothing, for the breeze freshening, we were now coming up with her hand over hand.

"Lower your canvas!" shouted my uncle, as we got near.

Her people thought it wise to obey, to avoid the shot, which could not now well miss its aim. She was next ordered to pull alongside, which she immediately did; but there was not a symptom of a cask or keg of spirits in her. She had five hands in her. They were desired to come on board. One of them acknowledged himself the skipper.

"We want to know why you chased and fired at us, sir," he said, in the most innocent manner possible, addressing my uncle.

"For having contraband goods on board," he answered.

"Lord love ye, sir--we have contraband goods aboard, sir!" replied the skipper, with a feigned look of surprise. "We was just taking our pleasuring, and didn't know but what you was an enemy, or a pirate, or some chap of that sort, so we runned away, sir, do ye see."

"Very well; you'll remain on board the cutter for the present, and perhaps I may prove to the contrary," said my uncle.