“Well, if Master Tommy punishes himself by two days’ confinement in the coal-hole, and tells the truth when he comes out, I think I may promise he will get off his flogging; but don’t you say that I have spoken to you about it, and let him do as he proposes.”
When it was dark, I supplied Tommy with provisions, and he gained the coal-hole without being discovered.
The next day the speculations at his disappearance were general, and it was now believed that poor Tommy had fallen overboard, and, as the sharks are thick enough in Port Royal, that he was safely stowed away in one of their maws. I will say that the whole of the ship’s company were very sorry for him, with the exception of Mr Culpepper, who observed that no good ever came of a boy who stole raisins.
“So you think, that because a lad steals a few of your confounded plums,” observed the second lieutenant, “he deserves to be eaten by the sharks. If I were Tommy Dott, I would haunt you if I could.”
“I’m not afraid of dead men,” replied Mr Culpepper; “they are quiet enough.”
“Perhaps so; but recollect, you make them chew tobacco, and therefore they ought to rise up in judgment against you, if they do against any one.”
As this conversation passed on the quarter-deck, it put an idea in my head. That night I went to Tommy, whom I found terribly tired of sitting on the coals. I brought him a bottle of mixed grog, and some boiled beef and biscuit. I consoled him by telling him that every one was sorry at his disappearance, and that I was convinced that he would not be punished if he told the truth.
Tommy was for leaving the coal-hole immediately, but I pointed out to him that the captain had not been on board that a and that it was necessary that the captain should believe that he had fallen overboard as well as the officers, or his compassion would not be roused. Tommy saw the propriety of this, and consented to remain another day. I then told him what Mr Culpepper had said, and I added, “Now, Tommy, if Mr Culpepper should see you by any chance, pretend to be your ghost.”
“That I will,” replied Tommy, “if I get six dozen for it.” I then left him.
On my return on deck, I saw Bob Cross; he was on shore during the major portion of the day, attending upon the captain, and as I was no longer in the captain’s gig, I saw but little of him.
“Well, Mr Keene,” said he, “I think you have quite recovered your colour by this time, and I hope to see you in the gig again.”
“I do not think I shall yet awhile—I have not yet learnt navigation enough; but the master says he will be done with me in a fortnight, if I go on as well as I do now.”
“Yes; I heard him tell the captain that you were very quick, and would be a good navigator but I can’t get over the loss of poor Tommy Dott; he was a little scampish, that’s sartin, but still he was a merry, kind-hearted boy—too good for the sharks, at all events. You must feel his loss, Mr Keene, for you were always together.”
“No, I don’t, Bob,” replied I.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear you say that, Mr Keene; I thought you had a kinder heart.”
“So I have, Bob; but I’ll tell you a secret, known only to the first lieutenant and me; and that is, Tommy’s in the coal-hole, very dirty, but quite safe.”
Bob Cross burst into a fit of laughing, which lasted some time.
“Well, Mr Keene, you have really taken a weight off my mind; now tell me all about it. You know I’m safe.”
I then told Bob what had happened, and of Tommy’s intention to make his appearance on the following evening or the next morning.
“Well,” said Bob, “you’re mischief itself, Master Keene, and that’s a fact; however, it’s all right this time, and you have the captain and first lieutenant as your confidants and partners in the joke. You did perfectly right and I’m sure the captain and first lieutenant must be pleased with you; but recollect, Master Keene, keep your distance as before; don’t presume.”
“Never fear, Bob,” replied I: “but now I have told you that, I want you to assist me.” I then repeated the conversation of Mr Culpepper with the second lieutenant.
“Now,” continued I; “you see, Cross, I can’t do anything myself; Mr Culpepper hates me, and would suspect me; but if we could only frighten him: you might, for he would not think you were playing him a trick.”
“I see,” replied Bob; “it will be a good thing for Tommy Dott, and a nice wind-up of this affair. Let me alone. When I come on board to-morrow evening I’ll manage it if I can.”
After a little more conversation, we separated for the night.
The next morning the captain came on board. He remained on deck with the first lieutenant for some minutes, during which of course, he was made acquainted with Tommy Dott’s position. When he came down into the cabin, I moved from my seat, as respectful and serious as before; and when ordered to sit down again, resumed my studies with great apparent diligence. He did not say a word to me about Tommy Dott; and as he was going out of the cabin, Mr Culpepper was announced by the sentry.
“If you please, Captain Delmar,” said Mr Culpepper, with his usual profound bow, “what are we to do with the effects of Mr Dott, who has fallen overboard? By the regulations of the service, they should be sold before the mast. And I also wish to know whether he is to be continued to be victualled, or whether it is your pleasure that he is discharged as dead?”
The captain smiled, and turned his face towards me; but I continued with my eyes down on my book.
“Perhaps we had better wait till to-morrow, Mr Culpepper,” replied the captain, “and then you may sell his effects, and put DD to his name, poor fellow.” And having made this reply, the captain went out of his cabin. Mr Culpepper followed; and shortly afterwards the captain went on shore again.
Before dusk, the captain’s gig, as usual, returned on board, and I was at the gangway to meet Bob Cross; the boat was hoisted up, and then Bob came to me.
“I must first go down and see Mr Dott, that I may be able to swear to the fact.” Bob did so, and then returned on deck. Mr Culpepper was abaft, walking by himself, when Bob went up and accosted him.
“If you please, sir,” said Bob, touching his hat, “did the captain say anything to you about coals, for I expect we shall not stay here much longer?”
“No,” replied Mr Culpepper.
“Then he must have forgot it, I suppose sir.”
“Well, there’s plenty of coals,” replied Mr Culpepper.
“Well, sir, I don’t know; but I think I heard the cook’s mate say as how they were getting rather low.”
“Getting rather low! then there must have been great waste,” exclaimed Mr C, who was very careful of his expenses.
“I don’t know how far it may be so; but I think it might be as well to know how matters stand; and if so be there’s plenty, why I can tell Captain Delmar when I go on shore to-morrow.”
“I’ll see; I’ll go down myself to-night,” replied Mr Culpepper. “The midshipmen are allowed a stove to themselves—very unusual—and they are cooking all day.”
“Talking about midshipmen, sir,” replied Cross, “you may think it’s very odd but as I stand here—and you know, Mr Culpepper, I am not easily scared—I saw that young Tommy Dott, or his ghost, this very evening.”
It was now quite dark; and Mr Culpepper stared at the coxswain, and then replied, “Pooh, nonsense!”
“It’s no nonsense, I do assure you. I saw him with these eyes, sure as I stand here.”
“Where?” exclaimed Mr C.
“Right forward, sir. I only mention it to you, but don’t say a word about it, for I should only be laughed at; but I do assure you that I would kiss the Bible to it, if it was required. I never did before believe in anything of that sort, that’s sartain; but it’s no use talking about it, sir. I think I had better get a lantern, and get over this coal business at once.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Mr Culpepper; “but you won’t know how much coals there are: I must go myself and see.”
Bob Cross was soon ready with the lantern, and went forward with Mr Culpepper. The hammocks had been piped down, and they were obliged to bend double under them to get along the lower deck. I followed unperceived.
The descent into the coal-hole was by battens, and not very easy for an old man like Mr C But Cross went down first, holding the light for the purser to follow, which he did very slowly, and with great caution. As soon as they both stood on the coals below, the purser took the light to make his survey.
“Why, there’s plenty of coals for three months, coxswain,” said he. “I thought there was; you see they are nearly up to the beams abaft.”
“Look! sir—look!” exclaimed Cross, starting back; “what’s that?”
“Where?” exclaimed Mr C, alarmed.
“There, sir—there he is: I told you so.”
The purser’s eyes were directed to where Bob pointed, and then he beheld Tommy Dott standing immovable, with his arms extended, as if denouncing him—his eyes staring, and his mouth wide open.
“Mercy!—murder!” cried the purser, dropping the lantern, which went out and left them in the dark; and he tumbled down on the coals.
Bob Cross stepped over him, and hastened up to the lower deck, followed by Tommy Dott, who first, by way of revenge, jumped several times upon the purser’s face and body before he climbed up.
The cry of the purser had given the alarm. The master-at-arms hastened forward with his lantern just as Tommy had made his appearance above the coamings. Seeing Tommy as black as a sweep, he too was frightened; the men had put their heads out of their hammocks and some of them had seen Tommy.
Bob Cross, as he crawled aft, cried out, “Tommy Dott’s ghost!” I had pretended to be terrified out of my wits as I ran aft, and all was confusion on the lower deck. The first lieutenant had come out of the wardroom, and seeing me, he inquired what was the matter. I replied that Mr Culpepper had gone down into the coal-hole, and had seen Mr Dott’s ghost. He laughed heartily, and went back.
Tommy had in the mean time made his appearance in the mids’ berth, at which they had all rushed from him in dismay, just as I entered; when I caught him by the hand saying, “Tommy, my boy, how are you?” They then perceived that it was Tommy himself, and order was restored.
Mr Culpepper was hoisted up out of the coal-hole; Master Tommy having jumped upon his face, he looked a very miserable object, as he was well blackened, as well as much bruised from the soles of Tommy’s shoes, and his nose had bled profusely. He was very incoherent for some time; but the doctor gave him an opiate, and put him to bed.
The next morning the whole affair was explained on the quarterdeck, Master Tommy well reprimanded, and desired to return to his duty. The captain was very much amused at the winding up of this affair, as it was a capital story to tell at the governor’s. Tommy never had an idea that I had blown upon him, nor did Mr Culpepper imagine that their meeting was premeditated.
I had now completed the usual course of navigation under the master, and had no longer any cause for remaining in the cabin; I therefore returned to my berth; but as I had taken a liking to navigation, I now was employed daily in working sights and rating the chronometer.
We remained three weeks longer in Port Royal, and then were ordered out on a cruise, on the South American coast. There we continued for nearly six months without anything occurring worth relating, except our having captured four good prizes. We were returning to Jamaica, when we fell in with a schooner, which gave us the intelligence of the capture of the island of Curaçao by four English frigates.
As we were near to the island and short of water, Captain Delmar resolved to touch at it, and remained two or three days.
The reader will perhaps recollect that the old Dutch gentleman, whose life I had saved in the pirate vessel, had stated that his name was Vanderwelt, and that he lived at Curaçao. The next evening we entered the harbour, and it was astonishing to every one how so strong a place could have been taken by so small a force. The commodore, who had plenty of work on hand, requested, or rather ordered, our captain to remain with him for ten days or a fortnight, to assist him.
On the third day after our arrival I obtained leave to go on shore, as I wished to find out the old Dutch gentleman. As I was again in the captain’s gig, I had very often landed, but had not had an opportunity of making inquiries, as I could not leave my boat and boat’s crew.
This afternoon I landed in the gig, and went up through the gate into the town, but I could not find anyone who spoke English. At last, by asking for the house of Mynheer Vanderwelt, it was pointed out to me, and I went up to the door; it was a very large house, with a verandah all round it, painted bright green and while alternately. There were several slaves sitting down at the entrance, and I asked for Mynheer Vanderwelt; they stared at me, and wondered what I wanted, but as I was in midshipman’s uniform, they were of course very civil, and one of them beckoned me to follow him, which I did, and was introduced to the old gentleman, who was sitting in a cane arm-chair with his pipe in his mouth, and fanned by two slave girls, about twelve years old.
As he had spoken to me in English on board of the pirate, I immediately went up to him, and said, “How do you do, sir?”
“I am very well, sir,” replied he, taking the pipe out of his mouth. “What do you want? do you come from the English commodore? What is his pleasure?”
“No, sir,” replied I; “I do not come from the commodore; but I came up to see you.”
“Oh, that is all,” replied the old gentleman, putting his pipe in his mouth again, and resuming his smoking. I felt rather nettled at his treatment, and then said—
“Don’t you know me, sir?”
“No, sir,” replied he, “I have not that honour. I have never seen you in my life before, and I do not know you.”
My blood was up at this cool declaration.
“Then I wish you a good morning, sir,” replied I; and turning on my heel, I was strutting out with all the dignity of an offended midshipman, when I was met face to face by the little girl, his daughter. She stared at me very much, and I passed her in sovereign contempt; she followed me timidly, and looked into my face, then panting for breath, seized me by the arm. I turned to her at being stopped in this manner, and was about to shake her off with anything but politeness, when she screamed out, and in a moment had sprung up, and was hanging with both arms round my neck.
“Fader, fader,” she cried out as I struggled to disengage myself.
The old gentleman came out at the summons.
“Stop him! fader; don’t let him go away,” cried she in Dutch; “it is he! it is he!”
“Who, my child?” asked the old gentleman.
“The pirate-boy,” replied the little girl, bursting into a paroxysm of tears, on my shoulders.
“Mein Gott! it cannot be; he was black, my child; yet,” continued the old gentleman, looking at me, “he is like him. Tell me, sir, are you our preserver?”
“Yes,” replied I, “I was; but that is of little consequence now. Will you oblige me by removing this young lady?” continued I, for I was highly offended.
“Sir, I ask your pardon,” replied the old gentleman; “but I am not to blame. How could I recognise you in a white person when you were so dark-coloured at our meeting on board of that vessel? I am not to blame; indeed I am not, my dear young friend. I would have given ten thousand rix dollars to have met you, that I might prove my gratitude for your noble defence of us, and our preservation at such a risk. Come, sir, you must forgive the mistake of an old man, who was certainly not inclined to be civil to an officer who belonged to the squadron, who had within these few days so humiliated us by their astonishing bravery and success. Let my little girl, whose life you saved, persuade you, if I cannot.”
In the mean time the little girl had dropped from my shoulder, and was on the floor, embracing my knees, and still sobbing. I felt convinced that what the old gentleman said was true, and that he had not recognised me. I had forgotten that I had been stained dark at the time that I had met them on board of the Stella.
I therefore held out my hand to the old gentleman, and raising the little girl, we all three went in together to where we had found the old gentleman on my first introduction to him.
“If you knew how delighted I am to see you, and be able to express my thanks,” said Mynheer Vanderwelt, “and poor Minnie too. How often have we talked over that dreadful day, and wondered if ever we should see you again. I assure you, on my honour, that now I no longer regret the capture of the island.”
Minnie stood by me during the time her father was speaking, her large blue eyes beaming through the tears with which they brimmed; and as I turned to her, our eyes met, and she smiled. I drew her towards me. She appeared as if she only required some encouragement, for she immediately kissed me several times on the cheek nearest to her, every now and then saying a word or two in Dutch to her father, which I could not understand.
I hardly need say, that after this, intimacy was soon brought about. If I thought that at first I had been treated with ingratitude, ample amends was made afterwards.
The old gentleman said during the evening, “Good heaven! if my daughter’s eyes had not been sharper than mine; if you had gone away, thinking that I did not choose to recognise you—had I found it out afterwards, it would have broken my heart, and poor Minnie’s too. Oh! I am grateful—very grateful to God that it was not so.”
That I passed a very pleasant evening the reader may imagine. The household who had been told who I was, appeared to almost worship me. The old gentleman asked me a hundred questions as to my parentage, etcetera, about Captain Delmar and the service, and begged of me to remain with him altogether while the frigate was in port. I told him that was impossible, but that I would come as often as I could obtain leave. At nine o’clock I bade them good night, and was escorted to the boat by six of the slaves carrying lanterns.
Captain Delmar, as well as all the other captains of the frigates, had taken up his quarters on shore for the harbour was so narrow and landlocked, that the heat on board was excessive. I found that the next day old Mr Vanderwelt had paid his respects to Captain Delmar, giving him an account of what had occurred on board of the pirate much more flattering to me than what I had stated myself. The steward was present at the time, and he had told Bob Cross, who communicated it to me. Mynheer Vanderwelt had also begged as a favour that I might be permitted to stay on shore with him during the time that the frigate was in harbour, but to this Captain Delmar had not consented, promising, however, that I should have occasional leave when the service would permit of it.
The reader may recollect that the island of Curaçao had been surrendered to the English in 1800, and restored to the Dutch in 1802. During that interval several English merchants had settled there and remained after the restoration, and now at the second capture we found them still on the island. From these we received the information that Mr Vanderwelt was the richest man on the island, and that the Dutch government was indebted to him in very large sums; that he had long retired from business, although he had large property in the Havannah, which he received with his wife, who had been a Spanish lady, and that it was his intention to have gone back to Holland by the first man-of-war which should have arrived.
We remained three weeks at Curaçao, during which time the first lieutenant gave me leave to go on shore almost every evening after the captain had dismissed his gig, and to remain at Mr Vanderwelt’s till half-past eight the following morning, when I joined my boat, and attended on the captain. By this plan my duty was not interfered with, and I had many pleasant meetings with my new friends, and became, as may be imagined, very intimate with little Minnie.
I may as well describe her. She was about ten years old, tall for her age; she was very fair, with deep blue eyes, and very dark hair; her countenance was very animated and expressive, and she promised to be a very handsome woman. Her father doted upon her, for he had no other child; he had married late in life, and his wife had died a few days after Minnie was born. She was very affectionate in disposition, and very sweet-tempered; up to the present she had received but little education, and that was one principal reason for Mr Vanderwelt’s wishing to return to Holland. I soon became as one of the family, and certainly was treated as such.
Minnie was very curious to know what it was that I carried about my neck in the seal-skin pouch, but I never could tell either her or her father what it really was. Mr Vanderwelt very often asked me if I liked being at sea, and I invariably replied in the affirmative.
At last the frigate was to sail, and I had but one more evening to pass with them. Mr Vanderwelt appeared very grave, and little Minnie would every now and then during the evening burst into tears at the idea of our separation.
At last the hour of parting arrived—it was very painful. I promised to write to them, and Mr Vanderwelt told me that his house was always ready to receive me, and begged that if I wanted anything I would let him know.
I cried, myself, when I left the house—the first time that I ever cried, I believe, on such an occasion. The next morning we were again under weigh, to rejoin the admiral at Jamaica.
Bob Cross had told me that he wished to have a little talk with me in the first watch, and I met him on the gangway, our usual rendezvous.
“Master Keene, I have some news for you, which I gained from the steward last night. I will say, that his ears are always open; not that I think he is generally what is called an eavesdropper but he likes you, and when you are concerned, he does care to find out what is going on. Now you see, sir, that Dutch gentleman whom you saved from the nigger pirate came to call on Captain Delmar yesterday morning, and, after some palaver, he told the captain that he wished you to remain with him altogether, and leave his majesty’s service; and he begged the captain to allow you to be discharged, and then he would be a father to you, as you had no father. There was a great deal more which the steward could not make out, but it was all to that effect. Well, the captain said that it was very true that you had lost your father but that he considered you as his own son, and could not part with you on any account; and he stated that you were so promising an officer, that it be very wrong that you should leave the service, and that it must not be thought of. The old gentleman said a great deal, and tried very hard to persuade the captain, but it was of no use. The captain said he would never let you go till you were a post-captain and commanded a fine frigate, and then you would of course be your own master, and act as you please.”
“I am very glad to hear all this, Bob, I can assure you.”
“Yes, sir, it is very good news: but, Master Keene, I only hope, knowing Captain Delmar as you do, that you will act towards him as if you had never heard it.”
“I will, depend upon it, Cross. As for leaving the service, that I would not have done even if Captain Delmar had agreed to it. I’m an Englishman, and I don’t want to be under Dutch protection.”
“That’s right, sir—that’s right—just as I wished you to feel. How time flies away. Why, Master Keene, you have been afloat nearly three years.”
“Within a month, Bob.”
“And you’re growing such a tall fellow, they won’t keep you much longer in the captain’s gig, I expect: I shall be sorry for that. So Master Tommy Dott is in another scrape.”
“How?—I heard nothing of it.”
“No, because it’s only within this half-hour that he’s got in it.”
“Tell me.”
“Why, sir, Mr Culpepper had fallen fast asleep on the gunroom table, under the skylight, which, as you know, is always open, and his head had fallen back, and his mouth was wide open: there was no other officer in the gun-room except Mr Culpepper: and Tommy Dott, who perceived him, asked Timothy Jenkins, the maintop-man, to give him a quid of tobacco; well, Jenkins takes it out of his cheek, red-hot, as you may suppose, and hands it to Master Tommy, who takes his perpendicular very accurately, and drops the quid into the purser’s open mouth.
“Mr Culpepper was almost choked, but after a terrible coughing, the quid comes up again; notwithstanding, he turns as sick as a dog, and is obliged to run to the basin in his cabin. Well, sir, as soon as he comes out again, he goes up under the half deck, and inquires of the sentry who it was that did it; and the sentry, who is that sulky fellow, Martin, instead of knowing nothing about it, says directly, it was Master Tommy; and now there’s a formal complaint made by Mr Culpepper on the quarter-deck, and Master Tommy will get it as sure as a gun.”
“He don’t know how to play a trick,” replied I; “he is always found out and punished: the great point is, not to be discovered—that’s the real pleasure in playing a trick.”
“Well, you certainly do manage well, Master Keene; but I think it’s almost time you left them off now, you’re getting an oldster. Why, you must be seventeen, sir?”
“Yes, Bob, not very far from it.”
“Well, I suppose I must say Mister Keene for the future.”
“You may call be what you like, Bob; you have been a good friend to me.”
“Well, sir, I only hope that Captain Delmar will make you a post-captain, as he says, and that you’ll get a fine frigate, and I’ll be your coxswain; but that’s a long way to look to, and we shan’t have any more councils of war on the gangway then.”
“No; but we may in the cabin, Cross.”
“A large sail on the starboard bow,” cried the look-out man forward.
“A large sail on the starboard bow,” reported the mate of the watch.
My glass was on the capstern, and I ran for it, and went forward to examine the vessel, although my duty as signal midshipman was ended at sunset.
“What do you make of it, Mr Keene?” said the officer of the watch.
“I think she is a man-of-war; but it is so dark, that I cannot make her out very clearly.”
“Is she standing this way?”
“Yes, sir, under top-sails and top-gallant-sails, I think.”
The officer of the watch went down to report to the captain, who had not yet turned into his cot. Captain Delmar had been informed that a Dutch frigate was expected at the island, but not until the following month; still we had no reason to suppose that there were any of our frigates down in these latitudes, except those lying in the harbour at Curaçao. The wind was light, about a three knot breeze, and there being no moon till after twelve o’clock, it was very difficult to make out what she was. Some said she was a two-decked vessel. The captain went down to look at his private signals for the night, and before he came up I was all ready with the lanterns.
“Two lights over one in a triangle; be quick, Mr Keene.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied I.
The lights were soon hoisted at the peak, but as they could not well be seen by the other vessel, as we were standing towards her, we went about and hove to across her hawse. For a quarter of an hour she continued to stand towards us without noticing the signals; at last the captain said, “They must be all asleep on board of the vessel.”
“No, Captain Delmar,” replied I, keeping my telescope on the vessel, “they are not all asleep, for I saw lights on the main-deck through the bow-ports. I see them again now.”
“So do I,” said the first lieutenant.
“Then we’ll beat to quarters, Mr Hippesley,” rejoined the captain.
The men were summoned to quarters, and hammocks piped up and stowed in a very short time, the guns cast loose, and every man at his post (but the ports not opened), waiting the coming down of the stranger, now about a mile distant, when suddenly she rounded to the wind on the same tack that we were, and set her royals and flying-jib.
“She does not answer our signals,” observed the captain: “I suspect by that and her present manoeuvre she must be an enemy.”
“I have no doubt of it, sir,” observed the first lieutenant; “an English frigate would not behave in that way.”
“Open the ports and get up the fighting lanterns, then,” said the captain; for, up to the present, we had been careful not to show any lights.
It was now plain to see that her men were at their quarters and that she was prepared for action. When everything was ready on deck, the royals and flying-jib were set, and we gave chase. The strange vessel was about three-quarters of a mile on our weather-beam; in half an hour we had gained upon her considerably, and our sailing was so superior that we were satisfied, should she prove an enemy, that in an hour more we should be engaged.
Of course, we might have engaged her at the distance we were from her, but you cannot be too careful in a night action, and ought never to engage without first hailing the vessel to make sure that she is an enemy, as circumstances may, and have occurred by which an English vessel may not be able to answer the private signal, and, of course, a vessel belonging to a neutral power would be in the same position.
The incertitude which existed as to whether the strange vessel was an enemy or not created great excitement. My duty, as signal midshipman, placed me abaft on the quarter-deck, and Bob Cross, who was really a quarter-master, although doing duty as captain’s coxswain, was at the wheel.
At last we had brought the chase well on our weather quarter, and when we tacked we found that we lay well up, she being about a point on our lee bow. Another half-hour brought us within two cables’ length of her, when we kept away, so as to pass her to leeward, close enough to have thrown a biscuit on board. The stranger still remaining on the opposite tack, Captain Delmar then hailed from the gangway—
“Ship, a-hoy!”
There was a death-like silence on board of both vessels, and his voice pierced sonorously through the night wind.