The King's Own Part 17

"The lights, gentlemen, if you please," resumed the master-at-arms, putting his head again into the door.

"Another commission," said Jerry: "a tax upon light. Billy Pitt has the best right to it."

A second gla.s.s of grog was poured out, and the bribe disappeared down Mr Byfield's gullet.

"Now we'll put the light out," said one of the oldsters, covering the candlestick with a hat.

"If you will put your candle into my lantern," observed the obsequious master-at-arms, "I can then report the lights out. Of course you will allow it to remain there?"

The suggestion was adopted; and the light was reported _out_ to the first-lieutenant, at the very moment that it was taken _out_ of the lantern again, and replaced in the candlestick. The duplicate supply began to have its effect upon our incipient heroes, who commenced talking _of their friends_. Bruce, a fine manly, honourable Scotchman, had the peculiarity of always allying himself, when half drunk, to the royal house who formerly sat upon the throne of England; but, when quite intoxicated, he was so treasonable as to declare himself the lawful King of Great Britain. Gla.s.s after gla.s.s increased his propinquity to the throne, till at last he seated himself on it, and the uproar of the whole party rose to that height, that the first-lieutenant sent out, desiring the midshipmen immediately to retire to their hammocks.

"Send me to bed! 'Proud man, dressed in a little brief authority.' If the Lord's anointed had been respected, he, with millions, would be now bending the knee to me. Well, if I can't be King of all England, at least I'll be king in this berth. Tell me," cried Bruce, seizing the unfortunate Prose by the collar, "am I not king?"

"Why--according--to--the--best--of--my--belief," said Prose, "I-- should--rather--be--inclined--to--think--that--you are--not--the--king."

"Am not, base slave!" cried Bruce, throwing him on the deck, and putting his foot on his chest.

"No--if--I die for it--I don't care--but if you are--not king--I must own--that--you--are one of--my thirty tyrants," drawled out Prose, half suffocated with the pressure.

"I--do--declare," cried Jerry, imitating Prose's drawl, "that--he--has-- squeezed--a pun--out--of--you."

"Am not I king?" resumed Bruce, seizing Jerry, who had advanced within reach, to laugh at Prose.

"I feel that you ought to be," replied Jerry: "and I don't doubt your lineal descent: for you have all the dispositions of the race from which you claim descent. A boon, your gracious majesty," continued Jerry, bending on one knee.

"Thou shalt have it, my loyal subject," replied Bruce, who was delighted with the homage, "even (as Ahasuerus said to Esther) to the half of my kingdom."

"G.o.d forbid that I should deprive your majesty of that," replied Jerry, smiling at the idea of _halving nothing_. "It is only to request that I may not keep the middle watch to-night."

"Rise, Jerry, you shall not keep a night-watch for a fortnight."

"I humbly thank your most gracious majesty," replied the astute boy, who was a youngster of the watch of which Bruce was mate.

As the reader may be amused with the result of this promise, he must know, that Bruce, who did not recollect what had pa.s.sed, when he perceived Jerry not to be on deck, sent down for him. The youngster, on his appearance, claimed his promise; and his claim was allowed by Bruce, rather than he would acknowledge himself to have been intoxicated.

Jerry, upon the strength of the agreement, continued, for more than the prescribed time, to sleep in every night-watch, until, aware that he was no longer safe, he thought of an expedient which would probably insure him one night longer, and prevent a disagreeable interruption of his dreams. Prose, whose hammock was hung up next the hatchway, had a bad cold, and Jerry thought it prudent to shift his berth, that he might not be found.

"It's the draught from the hatchway that makes your cold so bad, Prose; you'll never get well while you sleep there. I will give you my inside berth until it is better--'tis really quite distressing to hear you cough."

"Well, now, Jerry, that's what I call very good-natured of you. I have not had such a friendly act done towards me since I joined the ship, and I do a.s.sure you, Jerry, that I shall not be ungrateful--I shall not forget it."

It happened that, on the very night that Prose exchanged berths with Jerry, Bruce made his calculation that the fortnight had elapsed three days back: and although he felt himself bound in honour to keep his promise, yet feeling rather sore at being over-reached, he now ordered the quarter-master to cut Jerry's hammock down by the head. This was supposed to be done, and poor Prose, who had just fallen asleep after keeping the previous watch, awoke with a stunning sensation, and found his feet up at the beams and his head on the deck; while Jerry, who had been awakened by the noise, was obliged to cram the sheets into his mouth, that his laughter might be unperceived.

"Well, now, I do declare, this is too bad--I most certainly will complain to the captain, to-morrow morning--as sure as my name is Prose.

Sentry, bring me a light, and a.s.sist me to get my hammock up again--I will not put up with this treatment--I do declare;" and so saying, Prose once more resumed his position in his precarious dormitory.

But, during our digression, the berth has become empty--some walking, and others, particularly his majesty, reeling to bed. So we shall close this chapter, from which the reader may perceive, that, even in the best-regulated ships, there is more going on in a midshipmen's berth than a captain is acquainted with, or that comes between Heaven and his philosophy.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

With leave, Ba.s.sanio, I am half yourself, and I must freely have the half of anything that this same paper brings you.

SHAKESPEARE.

The castle which had been built by the ancestors of Mr Rainscourt, and which, in feudal times, had been one of strength and importance, was about two miles from the town of ---, in the county of Galway, on the west coast of Ireland; and, as Mr Rainscourt had correctly surmised, when he returned to it, no officer could be found who was bold enough to venture his life by an attempt at caption, surrounded as he was by a savage and devoted peasantry, who had no scruples at bloodshed. Immured within its walls, with little to interest, and no temptation to expend money, Mr and Mrs Rainscourt lived for nearly two years, indulging their spleen and discontent in mutual upbraidings,--their feelings towards each other, from incessant irritation, being now rather those of hatred than any other term that could be applied. The jewels of Mrs Rainscourt, and every other article that could be dispensed with, had been sold, and the purse was empty. The good-will of the tenants of the mortgaged property had for some time supplied the ill-a.s.sorted couple with the necessaries of life; every day added to their wants, to their hatred, and their despair.

They were seated at the table, having finished a dinner off some game which Mr Rainscourt had procured with his gun, and which had been their fare, with little variety, ever since the shooting season had commenced, when the old nurse, the only domestic they retained,--probably the only one who would remain with them without receiving wages,--made her appearance. "And sure there's a letter for the master; Barney, the post-boy, is just bringing it."

"Well, where is it?" replied Rainscourt.

"He says that it's two thirteens that must be paid for it, and the dirty spalpeen of a postmaster told him not to give you the letter without the money for it in his fist."

"Tell Barney to step in here--have you two shillings, Mrs Rainscourt?"

"Not one, Mr Rainscourt," replied the lady, gloomily.

The nurse reappeared with Barney.

"Well, Barney, where's the letter?" said Mr Rainscourt; "let me look at it."

"Sure, your honour, it's not me that's refusing it ye. But the master tould me--'Barney,' says he, 'if you give his honour the letter without the two thirteens in your fist, it's a good bating that I'll give ye when ye come back.'"

"Well, but, Barney, let me look at it, and see by the postmark where it's from. I shall know, directly, whether I will take it up or not."

"And suppose that your honour should wish to open the letter! It's not for gentlemen like ye to be standing against the temptation;--and then, the two thirteens, your honour."

"Well, Barney, since you won't trust me, and I have no money, you must take the letter back. It might bring me good news--I have had nothing but bad of late."

"And sure enough it might bring you good news. Then, your honour shall take the letter and I'll take the _bating_;" and the good-natured lad pulled out the letter from his pocket, and gave it to Rainscourt.

Rainscourt, who first wished to ascertain whether it was one of his usual dunning correspondents, examined the post-mark and handwriting of the superscription, that he might return it unopened, and save poor Barney from the beating which he had volunteered to receive for his sake, but the hand was unknown to him, and the post-mark was so faint and illegible that he could not decipher it. He looked into the sides of the letter, and the few words which he could read whetted his curiosity.

"I'm afraid, Barney, that I must open it."

"Good luck to your honour, then, and may it prove so."

The letter was opened, and the contents threw a gleam of pleasure, which had been rarely seen of late on the brow of the reader. His wife had watched his countenance. "Barney," cried Rainscourt, with delight, "call to-morrow, and I'll give you a guinea."

"Sure your honour's in luck, and me too," replied Barney, grinning, and backing out of the room. "I'll go take my bating at once."

But, to explain the contents of this letter, we must narrate events of which we have lost sight in following up the naval career of our hero.

About three weeks after the death of Admiral de Courcy, the line-of-battle ship in which old Adams had sailed with our hero under his protection, returned into port. The vicar, who anxiously awaited her arrival, immediately proceeded there, that he might claim w.i.l.l.y in the capacity of his guardian. Having obtained the address of Captain M---, he called upon him, and opened his case by requesting that the boy might be permitted to come on sh.o.r.e. He was proceeding to narrate the change which had taken place in his ward's prospects, when he was interrupted by Captain M---, who, first detailing the death of old Adams, and the conduct of w.i.l.l.y, stated that he had sent the boy home in the prize for an outfit. It was with great feeling that Captain M--- was forced to add the apparent certainty, that the vessel, which had never been heard of, had foundered at sea. Shocked at the intelligence, which was communicated at a moment when his heart was expanded, at the idea of having been instrumental in repairing the injustice and neglect which had been shown towards his _protege_, the vicar, not caring to mention to a stranger the family particulars upon which his request had been grounded, withdrew, without even giving his name or address. Three years afterwards, when, as we have narrated, our hero again made his appearance, Captain M--- had no clue to guide him, by which he might communicate the intelligence of his recovery to one whom he naturally concluded did not make such inquiries without having some interest in our hero's welfare.

The vicar, in the mean time, although he had every reason to believe that w.i.l.l.y was no more, resorted to every means that his prudence could suggest to ascertain the positive fact. For many months the most strict inquiries were set afloat by his agents, whether a captured vessel had been wrecked on the French coast. The prisoners at Verdun and other depots were examined--rewards were offered, by emissaries in France, for the discovery of the boy, but without success. Having waited two years, all hope became extinct, and the letter now received by Mr Rainscourt was from the vicar, acquainting him with the circ.u.mstances, and surrendering up the property to him, as next of kin.

"Pray, Mr Rainscourt, may I ask the contents of a letter, the perusal of which not only makes you so generous, but implies that you expect to have the means of being so?"