The captain took my place, but without the knowledge of the father. After all, they neither had great reason to rejoice at the exchange.”
“How so, Mr Chucks—what do you mean?”
“Why, Mr Simple, the captain did not make an honest woman of her, as I would have done; and the father discovered what was going on, and one night the captain was brought on board run through the body. We sailed immediately for Gibraltar, and it was a long while before he got round again.”
“Did you ever hear any more of the young lady?”
“Yes; about a year afterwards, I returned there in another ship. She had been shut up in a convent, and forced to take the veil. Oh, Mr Simple! if you knew how I loved that girl! I have never been more than polite to a woman since, and shall die a bachelor. You can’t think how I was capsized the other day, when I looked at the house: I have hardly touched beef or pork since, and am in debt two quarts of rum more than my allowance.”
We gained our station off the coast of Perpignan; and as soon as we made the land, we were most provokingly driven off by a severe gale. I am not about to make any remarks about the gale, for one storm is so like another; but I mention it to account for a conversation which took place, and with which I was very much amused. I was near to the captain when he sent for Mr Muddle, the carpenter, who had been up to examine the main-topsail yard, which had been reported as sprung.
“Well, Mr Muddle,” said the captain.
“Sprung, sir, most decidedly; but I think we’ll be able to mitigate it.”
“Will you be able to secure it for the present, Mr Muddle?” replied the captain rather sharply.
“We’ll mitigate it, sir, in half-an-hour.”
“I wish that you would use common phrases, when you speak to me, Mr Muddle. I presume, by mitigate, you mean to say that you can secure it. Do you mean so, sir, or do you not?”
“Yes, sir, that is what I mean, most decidedly. I hope no offence; Captain Savage; but I did not intend to displease you by my language.”
“Very good, Mr Muddle,” replied the captain; “it’s the first time that I have spoken to you on the subject, recollect that it will be the last.”
“The first time!” replied the carpenter, who could not forget his philosophy; “I beg your pardon, Captain Savage—you found just the same fault with me on this quarter-deck 27,672 years ago, and—”
“If I did, Mr Muddle,” interrupted the captain, very angrily, “depend upon it that at the same time I ordered you to go aloft, and attend to your duty, instead of talking nonsense on the quarter-deck; and although, as you say, you and I cannot recollect it, if you did not obey that order instantaneously, I also put you in confinement, and obliged you to leave the ship as soon as she returned to port. Do you understand me, sir?”
“I rather think, sir,” replied the carpenter, humbly touching his hat, and walking to the main rigging, “that no such thing took place, for I went up immediately, as I do now; and,” continued the carpenter, who was incurable, as he ascended the rigging, “as I shall again in another 27,672 years.”
“That man is incorrigible with his confounded nonsense,” observed the captain to the first lieutenant. “Every mast in the ship would go over the side, provided he could get any one to listen to his ridiculous theory.”
“He is not a bad carpenter, sir,” replied the first lieutenant.
“He is not,” rejoined the captain; “but there is a time for all things.”
“Mr Simple, what are you about, sir?”
“I was listening to what you said,” replied I, touching my hat.
“I admire your candour, sir,” replied he, “but advise you to discontinue the practice. Walk over to leeward, sir, and attend to your duty.”
When I was on the other side of the deck, I looked round, and saw the captain and first lieutenant both laughing.
Chapter Eighteen
I go away on service, am wounded and taken prisoner with O’Brien—Diamond cut diamond between the O’Briens—Get into comfortable quarters—My first interview with Celeste
And now I have to relate an event, which, young as I was at the time, will be found to have seriously affected me in after-life. How little do we know what to-morrow may bring forth! We had regained our station, and for some days had been standing off and on the coast, when one morning at daybreak, we found ourselves about four miles from the town of Cette, and a large convoy of vessels coming round a point. We made all sail in chase, and they anchored close in shore, under a battery, which we did not discover until it opened fire upon us. The shot struck the frigate two or three times, for the water was smooth, and the battery nearly level with it. The captain tacked the ship, and stood out again, until the boats were hoisted out, and all ready to pull on shore and storm the battery. O’Brien, who was the officer commanding the first cutter on service, was in his boat, and I again obtained permission from him to smuggle myself into it.
We ran on shore, amidst the fire of the gun-boats which protected the convoy, by which we lost three men, and made for the battery, which we took without opposition, the French artillerymen running out as we ran in. The first lieutenant, who commanded, desired O’Brien to remain with the first cutter, and after the armourer had spiked the guns, as officer of the boat he was to shove off immediately. O’Brien and I remained in the battery with the armourer, the boat’s crew being ordered down to the boat, to keep her afloat, and ready to shove off at a moment’s warning. We had spiked all the guns but one, when all of a sudden a volley of musketry was poured upon us, which killed the armourer and wounded me in the leg, above the knee. I fell down by O’Brien, who cried out, “By the powers! here they are, and one gun not spiked.” He jumped down, wrenched the hammer from the armourer’s hand, and seizing a nail from the bag, in a few moments he had spiked the gun. At this time I heard the tramping of the French soldiers advancing, when O’Brien threw away the hammer, and lifting me upon his shoulders, cried, “Come along, Peter, my boy,” and made for the boat as fast as he could; but he was too late; he had not got half-way to the boat, before he was collared by two French soldiers, and dragged back into the battery. The French troops then advanced, and kept up a smart fire; our cutter escaped, and joined the other boat, who had captured the gun-boats and convoy with little opposition. Our large boats had carronades mounted in their bows, and soon returned the fire with round and grape, which drove the French troops back into the battery, where they remained, popping at our men under cover, until most of the vessels were taken out: those which they could not man were burnt. In the meantime, O’Brien had been taken into the battery, with me on his back: but as soon as he was there, he laid me gently down, saying, “Peter, my boy, as long as you were under my charge, I’d carry you through thick and thin; but now that you are under the charge of these French beggars, why, let them carry you. Every man his own bundle, Peter, that’s fair play; so if they think you’re worth the carrying, let them bear the weight of ye.”
As soon as our boats were clear of their musketry, the commanding officer of the French troops examined the guns in the battery, with the hope of reaching them, and was very much annoyed to find that every one of them was spiked. “He’ll look sharper than a magpie before he finds a clear touch-hole, I expect,” said O’Brien, as he watched the officer. And here I must observe, that O’Brien showed great presence of mind in spiking the last gun; for had they had one gun to fire at our boats towing out the prizes, they must have done a great deal of mischief to them, and we should have lost a great many men; but in so doing,
