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"Hurrah, lads!" cried Peter Bruff when he saw this, "they'll only hamper each other and give us an easier victory."
The boats dashed alongside. Langrage and grape and round-shot were discharged at them, and boarding-pikes, muskets, and pistols were seen protruding through the ports ready for their reception. The boats hooked on, and, in spite of all opposition, the British seamen began to climb up the side. Some were driven back and hurled into the boats, wounded, too often mortally; the rest persevered. Again and again the attempt was made, the deck was gained, a desperate hand-to-hand combat began. It could have but one termination, the defeat of the attackers or the attacked. Paul climbed up with the rest of his s.h.i.+pmates. It is surprising that human beings could have faced the bristling ma.s.s of weapons which the British seamen had to encounter. Paul followed close behind Reuben, who kept abreast of Mr Noakes. Pistols were fired in their faces, cutla.s.ses were clas.h.i.+ng, as the seamen were slas.h.i.+ng and cutting and lunging at their opponents. In spite of all opposition the deck was gained; the enemy, however, still fought bravely. Mr Larcom, the second-lieutenant of the _Cerberus_, fell shot through the head.
Several men near him were killed or badly wounded; it seemed likely that after all the boarders would be driven back. Old Noakes saw the danger; there was still plenty of British pluck in him in spite of the pains he took to wash away all feeling; the day must be retrieved. "On, lads, on!" he shouted, throwing himself furiously on the enemy; "follow me!
death or victory!"
Again the Frenchmen gave way; at first inch by inch they retreated, then more rapidly, leaving many of their number wounded on the deck. Bruff had faced about and driven the enemy aft; Noakes and Reuben still pushed forward. Paul, following close at their heels with an officer's sword which he had picked up, observed, fallen on the deck, a man, apparently a lieutenant, whose eye was fixed on Noakes, and whose hand held a pistol; he was taking a steady aim at Noakes's head. Paul sprang forward, and giving a cut at the man's arm, the muzzle of the pistol dropping, the contents entered the deck.
"Thanks, boy, you've saved my life, I'll not forget you," cried Noakes.
"On, on, on!"
"Well done, Gerrard, well done!" exclaimed Reuben. "You've saved your hide, boy."
The Frenchmen, finding that all was lost, leaped down the fore-hatchway, most of them singing out for quarter. A few madly and treacherously fired up from below, which so exasperated the seamen, that nearly half of them were killed before their flag was hauled down and the rest overpowered. The frigate was by this time bringing up a breeze to the prize.
"It's a pity it didn't come a little sooner; it might have saved the lives of many fine fellows," observed Bruff, as he glanced round on the blood-stained deck.
"It's an ill wind that blows no one good," remarked Noakes, looking at Mr Larcom's body. "If he had been alive, I shouldn't have gained my promotion, which I am now pretty sure of for this morning's work, besides the command of the prize."
"'There's many a slip between the cup and the lip.' I've found it so, and so have you, mate, I suspect," said Bruff; "yet, old fellow, I hope you'll get what you deserve."
There was no jealousy in honest Bruff's composition. He put his old messmate's gallantry in so bright a light privately before Captain Walford, that the captain felt himself bound to recommend Noakes for promotion to the Admiralty, and to place him in charge of the prize to take home. She was the _Aigle_, privateer, mounting sixteen guns, evidently very fast, but very low, with taut masts, square yards, and seemingly very crank. Most of the prisoners were removed, and Mr Noakes got leave to pick a crew. He chose, among others, Reuben Cole and Paul Gerrard. The surgeon advised that Devereux and O'Grady should go home, and Alphonse Montauban was allowed a pa.s.sage, that he might be exchanged on the first opportunity.
"Be careful of your spars, Noakes," observed Mr Order, as he looked up at the _Aigle's_ lofty masts, "remember that you are short-handed."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the old mate as he went down the side, adding to himself, "I should think that I know how to sail a craft by this time; I'm no sucking baby to require a nurse."
Paul was very glad to find himself with Devereux and Alphonse, as also with Reuben, on board the prize. Mr Noakes did not forget the service he had rendered him, and was as kind as could well be. He called him aft one day.
"Gerrard, my boy, you want to be a seaman, and though I can't give you silver and gold, I can make you that, if you will keep your wits about you, and I'll teach you navigation myself. You are a gentleman by birth, and that's more than some of us can boast of being; but I don't advise you to aspire to the quarter-deck. Without money or friends, you may repent being placed on it, as I have often done; that's no reason, however, that you shouldn't become fit to take command of a s.h.i.+p; a privateer or a merchantman may fall in your way; at all events, learn all you can."
Paul resolved to follow his new friend's advice. A course was shaped for Plymouth, and the _Aigle_ proceeded merrily on her way.
Noakes could give good advice to others, but he did not follow after wisdom himself. He had a great failing, from the effects of which he had often suffered. Drink was his bane, as it is that of thousands.
Several casks of prime claret were found on board; it would not have done much harm by itself, but there were some casks of brandy also. By mixing the two with some sugar, Noakes concocted a beverage very much to his taste. He kept his word with Paul as long as he was able, and lost no opportunity in giving him instruction in seamans.h.i.+p and navigation; but in time the attractions of his claret-cup were so great, that he was seldom in a condition to understand anything clearly himself, much less to explain it to another. Devereux and O'Grady expostulated in vain.
He grew angry and only drank harder. The prisoners observed matters with inward satisfaction. They might have entertained hopes of regaining their s.h.i.+p. Alphonse warned Devereux.
"They have not spoken to me, or I could not say this to you, but they may, so be prepared," he observed one day as they were on deck together, no one else being near.
Noakes was compelled to keep watch. He always carried on more than either of his companions ventured to do. It was night, and very dark; the first watch was nearly over; the weather, hitherto fine, gave signs of changing. Devereux, who had charge of the deck, was about to shorten sail, when Noakes came up to relieve him.
"Hold all fast," he sung out, adding, "Nonsense, Devereux, your wounds have made you weak and timid. We've a slas.h.i.+ng breeze, and let's take advantage of it to reach the sh.o.r.es of old England."
"Too much haste the worst speed," observed Reuben to Paul; "our sticks are bending terribly, they'll be whipping over the sides presently, or will capsize the craft altogether. I don't like the look of things, that I don't, I tell you." Scarcely had he spoken, when a blast, fiercer than its predecessor, struck the s.h.i.+p.
"Let fly of all," shouted Noakes, sobered somewhat.
The crew ran to obey the orders, but it came too late. Over went the tall s.h.i.+p; down, down, the raging tempest pressed her.
"Axes, axes, cut, cut," was heard from several mouths.
"Follow me, Paul, and then cling on for your life," cried Reuben Cole, climbing through a weather port; "it's too late to save the s.h.i.+p."
CHAPTER THREE.
"What are we to do now?" asked Paul, after he had secured his hold in the main-chains.
"Hold on, Jack, where you are, while I will go and try to help some of our s.h.i.+pmates," answered Reuben. "There's Mr Devereux, who can't do much to help himself; and the young Mounseer, I should like to save him."
Several men had already got to the upper side of the s.h.i.+p, some in the main, and others in the mizen-chains, while others were in the rigging.
As the s.h.i.+p was light, she still floated high out of the water. Many might possibly, therefore, be alive below. Reuben had not been gone long, when he put his head through the port, singing out--
"Here, Paul, lend a hand and help up Mr Devereux."
Devereux had been partially stunned, but had happily clung to a stanchion, where Reuben had found him. Paul hauled him up, while Reuben again dived in search of some one else. He was gone for some time, and Paul began to fear that some accident had happened to him. At length his voice was again heard.
"Hurrah, Paul, here he is; and what is more, he has his fiddle, too, all safe and sound."
Sure enough, there was Alphonse and his beloved fiddle in its case, which he had contrived to get up from below at no little risk of being drowned himself.
"Ah! I would not part from this," he exclaimed, as he made himself secure in the chains. "It is my own dear friend; shall I play you a tune now?"
"No, thank ye, Mounseer, it might chance to get wet, and may be there are more poor fellows to help up here," answered Reuben.
"Ah! truly, I forgot what had happened," said Alphonse in a dreamy tone, showing that his mind was wandering, overcome by the sudden catastrophe.
It was no time for laughter, or Paul would have laughed at the oddness of the young Frenchman's remark. Still, awful as was the scene, he felt very little sensation of fear. The night was very dark, the wind howled, the rain fell in torrents, the sea dashed over the wreck, nearly was.h.i.+ng off those who clung to it, while vivid flashes of lightning darted from the clouds and went hissing along like fiery serpents over the summits of the waves. The party in the main-chains spoke but little. It seemed too probable that none of them would ever see another day. Indeed, even should the s.h.i.+p not go down, Paul feared that Devereux could scarcely endure the hards.h.i.+ps of their situation. He asked Reuben if nothing could be done.
"If we could get at the axes, we might cut away the masts and the s.h.i.+p might right," answered Reuben. "But, you see, we want daylight and the officers to give the order, so that all may act together."
While he was speaking, a voice was heard apparently from the mizen rigging, shouting, "Cut, I say, all of you; cut, I say, and cut together."
It was that of Mr Noakes. Directly after, a flash of lightning revealed him standing in the mizen-top, holding on with one hand, while he waved the other wildly around. His nervous system had been completely weakened by drinking, and it was evident that he had lost his senses. He continued to shout louder and louder, and then to abuse the crew for not obeying his orders. Flash after flash of lightning revealed him still waving his arm; his hat had fallen off, and his long grizzly hair flew wildly about his head. He seemed unaware of the danger of his position and indifferent to the seas which frequently dashed over him. He was thus seen standing, when a sea rose high above the half-submerged hull, and rolling over the after part, struck the mizen-top. A loud shriek was heard, and by the glare of a flash of forked lightning, the unhappy officer, the victim of hard drinking, was seen borne away amid its foaming waters. In vain he stretched out his arms to catch at floating ropes; in vain he struck out boldly towards the s.h.i.+p, and shouted to his men to help him. His strength was as nothing, no aid could be given, and in another instant the waves closed for ever over his head. O'Grady was the only other officer not accounted for. He had been below, and it was to be hoped had got to the upper side and had thus escaped being drowned. While his messmates were inquiring for him, his voice was heard shouting for help. He had clambered up through a hatchway, scarcely knowing what had occurred.
Reuben Cole and Paul helped him up to the main-chains. Devereux and Alphonse bore up wonderfully well. The former especially showed what spirit and courage ran do under difficulties and hards.h.i.+ps.
"I wish that the day were come," said Paul more than once.
"It's what many have wished before, boy, and if has come in good time,"
answered Reuben.
"There's just only one thing for it, and that's patience, as Sandy McPherson, an old s.h.i.+pmate of mine, used to say whenever he was in trouble."
The dawn did come at last, but it was very grey and very cold; but the wind and sea had gone down and the s.h.i.+p was still afloat. Whether she could be saved was the first question asked by all. Devereux was now senior officer, but his experience was very limited.
"I wish that I had attended more to this sort of thing," he observed to O'Grady. "I never thought of the possibility of this happening to myself."
"Faith, I can't say that I ever thought much about it either," answered the other mids.h.i.+pman. "But I think that we couldn't do better than to follow old Noakes's last order, to cut away the masts. If the s.h.i.+p keeps on her side much longer, she'll go down, that's pretty certain."
"It's very well to give the order, but where are the axes to cut with?"