Soon after Jack had gone down, Jolliffe, who had heard the whole of the altercation, followed him. “My lad,” said Jolliffe, “I’m sorry for all this; you should have gone to the mast-head.”

  “I should like to argue that point a little,” replied Jack.

  “Yes, so would everybody; but if that were permitted, the service would be at a standstill — that would not do; — you must obey an order first, and then complain afterwards, if the order is unjust.”

  “It is not so in the articles of war.”

  “But it is so in the service.”

  “The captain told me that the articles of war were the guides of the service, and we were all equally bound to obey them.”

  “Well, but allowing that, I do not think your articles of war will bear you out. You observe, they say any officer, mariner, etcetera, guilty of disobedience to any lawful command. Now are you not guilty under that article?”

  “That remains to be argued still,” replied Jack. “A lawful command means an order established by law; now where is that law? — besides, the captain told me when I kicked that blackguard down the hatchway, that there was only the captain who could punish, and that officers could not take the law into their own hands; why then has the master?”

  “His doing wrong as superior officer is no reason why you as an inferior should disobey him. If that were permitted — if every order were to be cavilled at and argued upon, as just or unjust, there would be an end of all discipline. Besides, recollect, that in the service there is custom, which is the same as law.”

  “That admits of a little argument,” replied Jack.

  “The service will admit of none, my dear boy: recollect that, even on shore, we have two laws, that which is written, and the lex non scripta, which is custom; of course we have it in the service, for the articles of war cannot provide for everything.”

  “They provide a court-martial for everything though,” replied Jack.

  “Yes, with death or dismissal from the service — neither of which would be very agreeable. You have got yourself into a scrape, and although the captain is evidently your friend, he cannot overlook it: fortunately, it is with the master, which is of less consequence than with the other officers; but still, you will have to submit, for the captain cannot overlook it.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Jolliffe,” replied Jack, “my eyes now begin to be opened to a great many things. The captain tells me, when I am astonished at bad language, that it is all zeal, and then I found out that what is all zeal in a superior to an inferior, is insolence when reversed. He tells me, that the articles of war are made to equally guide us all — the master breaks what is positively mentioned in the second article twenty times over, and goes scot free, while I am to be punished, because I do not comply with what the articles do not mention. How was I to know that I ought to go to the mast-head for punishment? particularly when the captain tells me that he alone is to punish in the ship. If I obey an order in opposition to the captain’s order, is not that as bad as disobeying the captain? I think that I have made out a very strong case, and my arguments are not to be confuted.”

  “I’m afraid that the master will make out a very strong case, and that your arguments will never be heard.”

  “That will be contrary to all the rules of justice.”

  “But according to all the rules of service.”

  “I do believe that I am a great fool,” observed Jack, after a pause. “What do you imagine made me come to sea, Jolliffe?”

  “Because you did not know when you were well off,” replied the mate dryly.

  “That’s true enough; but my reason was, because I thought I should find that equality here that I could not find on shore.”

  Jolliffe stared.

  “My dear boy, I heard you say that you obtained those opinions from your father; I mean no disrespect to him, but he must be either mad or foolish, if at his age he has not yet discovered that there is no such thing in existence.”

  “I begin to think so,” replied Jack; “but that does not prove that there ought not to be.”

  “I beg your pardon; the very non-existence proves that it ought not to be— ‘whatever is, is right’ — you might as well expect to find perfect happiness or perfection in the individual. Your father must be a visionary.”

  “The best thing that I can do is to go home again.”

  “No, my dear Easy, the best thing that you can do is to stay in the service, for it will soon put an end to all such nonsensical ideas; and it will make you a clever, sensible fellow. The service is a rough, but a good school, where everybody finds his level — not the level of equality, but the level which his natural talent and acquirements will rise or sink him to, in proportion as they are plus or minus. It is a noble service, but has its imperfections, as everything in this world must have. I have little reason to speak in its favour, as far as I am concerned, for it has been hard bread to me, but there must be exceptions in every rule. Do not think of quitting the service until you have given it a fair trial. I am aware that you are an only son, and your father is a man of property, and, therefore, in the common parlance of the world, you are independent; but, believe me, no man, however rich, is independent, unless he has a profession, and you will find no better than this, notwithstanding—”

  “What?”

  “That you will be, most certainly, sent to the mast-head to-morrow.”

  “We’ll argue that point,” replied Jack; “at all events, I will go and turn in to-night.”

  Chapter Thirteen.

  In which our hero begins to act and think for himself.

  Whatever may have been Jack’s thoughts, at all events they did not spoil his rest. He possessed in himself all the materials of a true philosopher, but there was a great deal of weeding still required. Jolliffe’s arguments, sensible as they were, had very little effect upon him, for, strange to say, it is much more easy to shake a man’s opinions when he is wrong than when he is right; proving that we are all of a very perverse nature. “Well,” thought Jack, “if I am to go to the mast-head, I am, that’s all; but it does not prove that my arguments are not good, only that they will not be listened to;” and then Jack shut his eyes, and in a few minutes was fast asleep.

  The master had reported to the first lieutenant, and the first lieutenant to the captain, when he came on board the next morning, the conduct of Mr Easy, who was sent for in the cabin, to hear if he had any thing to offer in extenuation of his offence. Jack made an oration, which lasted more than half an hour, in which all the arguments he had brought forward to Jolliffe in the preceding chapter were entered fully into. Mr Jolliffe was then examined, and also Mr Smallsole was interrogated: after which the captain and the first lieutenant were left alone.

  “Sawbridge,” said Captain Wilson, “how true it is that any deviation from what is right invariably leads us into a scrape. I have done wrong: wishing to get this boy out of his father’s hands, and fearful that he would not join the ship, and imagining him to be by no means the shrewd fellow that he is in reality, I represented the service in a much more favourable light than I should have done; all that he says I told him I did tell him, and it is I who really led the boy into error. Mr Smallsole has behaved tyrannically and unjustly; he punished the lad for no crime; so that what between the master and me, I am now on the horns of a dilemma. If I punish the boy, I feel that I am punishing him more for my own fault and the fault of others, than his own. If I do not punish him, I allow a flagrant and open violation of discipline to pass uncensured, which will be injurious to the service.”

  “He must be punished, sir,” replied Sawbridge.

  “Send for him,” said the captain.

  Jack made his appearance, with a very polite bow.

  “Mr Easy, as you suppose that the articles of war contained all the rules and regulations of the service, I take it for granted that you have erred through ignorance. But recollect, that although you have erred through ignorance, such a violation of discipline, if passed unnoticed, will have a very injurious effect with the men, whose obedience is enforced by the example shown to them by the officers. I feel so convinced of your zeal, which you showed the other day in the case of Easthupp, that I am sure you will see the propriety of my proving to the men, by punishing you, that discipline must be enforced, and I shall therefore send for you on the quarter-deck, and order you to go to the mast-head in presence of the ship’s company, as it was in the presence of the ship’s company that you refused.”

  “With the greatest pleasure, Captain Wilson,” replied Jack.

  “And in future, Mr Easy, although I shall ever set my face against it, recollect that if any officer punishes you, and you imagine that you are unfairly treated, you will submit to the punishment, and then apply to me for redress.”

  “Certainly, sir,” replied Jack, “now that I am aware of your wishes.”

  “You will oblige me, Mr Easy, by going on the quarter-deck, and wait there till I come up.”

  Jack made his best bow, and exit.

  “Old Jolliffe told me that I should have to go,” said Jack to himself, “and he was right, so far; but hang me if I hadn’t the best of the argument, and that’s all I care about.”

  Captain Wilson sent for the master, and reprimanded him for his oppression, as it was evident that there was no ground for punishment, and he forbade him ever to mast-head another midshipman, but to report his conduct to the first lieutenant or himself. He then proceeded to the quarter-deck, and, calling for Mr Easy, gave him what appeared to be a very severe reprimand, which Jack looked upon very quietly, because it was all zeal on the captain’s part to give it, and all zeal on his own to take it. Our hero was then ordered up to the mast-head.

  Jack took off his hat, and took three or four steps, in obedience to the order — and then returned and made his best bow — inquired of Captain Wilson whether he wished him to go to the fore or to the main-mast head.

  “To the main, Mr Easy,” replied the captain, biting his lips.

  Jack ascended three spokes of the Jacob’s ladder, when he again stopped, and took off his hat.

  “I beg your pardon, Captain Wilson — you have not informed me whether it is your wish that I should go to the topmast, or the top-gallant cross-trees.”

  “To the top-gallant cross-trees, Mr Easy,” replied the captain.

  Jack ascended, taking it very easy: he stopped at the main-top for breath; at the main-topmast head, to look about him; and, at last, gained the spot agreed upon, where he seated himself, and, taking out the articles of war, commenced them again, to ascertain whether he could not have strengthened his arguments. He had not, however, read through the seventh article before the hands were turned up— “up anchor!” and Mr Sawbridge called, “All hands down from aloft!” Jack took the hint, folded up his documents, and came down as leisurely as he went up. Jack was a much better philosopher than his father.

  The Harpy was soon under way, and made all sail, steering for Cape de Gatte, where Captain Wilson hoped to pick up a Spanish vessel or two, on his way to Toulon to receive the orders of the admiral.

  A succession of light breezes and calms rendered the passage very tedious; but the boats were constantly out, chasing the vessels along shore, and Jack usually asked to be employed on this service: indeed, although so short a time afloat, he was, from his age and strength, one of the most effective midshipmen, and to be trusted, provided a whim did not come into his head; but hitherto Jack had always been under orders, and had always acquitted himself very well.

  When the Harpy was off Tarragona, it so happened that there were several cases of dysentery in the ship, and Mr Asper and Mr Jolliffe were two of those who were suffering. This reduced the number of officers; and, at the same time, they had received information from the men of a fishing-boat, who, to obtain their own release, had given the intelligence, that a small convoy was coming down from Rosas as soon as the wind was fair, under the protection of two gun-boats.

  Captain Wilson kept well off-shore until the wind changed, and then, allowing for the time that the vessels would take to run down the distance between Tarragona and Rosas, steered in the night, to intercept them; but it again fell calm, and the boats were therefore hoisted out, with directions to proceed along the shore, as it was supposed that the vessels could not now be far distant. Mr Sawbridge had the command of the expedition in the pinnace; the first cutter was in charge of the gunner, Mr Minus; and, as the other officers were sick, Mr Sawbridge, who liked Jack more and more every day, at his particular request gave him the command of the second cutter. As soon as he heard of it, Mesty declared to our hero that he would go with him; but without permission that was not possible. Jack obtained leave for Mesty to go in lieu of a marine: there were many men sick of the dysentery, and Mr Sawbridge was not sorry to take an idler out of the ship instead of a working man, especially as Mesty was known to be a good hand.

  It was ten o’clock at night when the boats quitted the ship; and, as it was possible that they might not return till late the next day, one day’s biscuit and rum were put on board each, that the crews might not suffer from exhaustion. The boats pulled in-shore, and then coasted for three hours, without seeing anything: the night was fine overhead, but there was no moon. It still continued calm, and the men began to feel fatigued, when, just as they were within a mile of a low point, they perceived the convoy over the land, coming down with their sails squared, before a light breeze.

  Mr Sawbridge immediately ordered the boats to lie upon their oars, awaiting their coming, and arranging for the attack.

  The white lateen sails of the gun-boat in advance were now plainly distinguishable from the rest, which were all huddled together in her wake. Down she came like a beautiful swan in the water, her sails just filled with the wind, and running about three knots an hour. Mr Sawbridge kept her three masts in one, that they might not be perceived, and winded the boats with their heads the same way, so that they might dash on board of her with a few strokes of the oars. So favourable was the course of the gun-boat, that she stood right between the launch on one bow and the two cutters on the other; and they were not perceived until they were actually alongside; the resistance was trifling, but some muskets and pistols had been fired, and the alarm was given. Mr Sawbridge took possession, with the crew of the launch, and brought the vessel to the wind, as he perceived that at the alarm all the convoy had done the same, directing the cutters to board the largest vessels, and secure as many as they could, while he would do the same with the launch, as he brought them to: but the other gun boat, which had not yet been seen, and had been forgotten, now made her appearance, and came down in a gallant manner to the support of her comrade.

  Mr Sawbridge threw half his men into the launch, as she carried a heavy carronade, and sent her to assist the cutters, which had made right for the gun-boat. A smart firing of round and grape was opened upon the boats, which continued to advance upon her; but the officer commanding the gun-boat, finding that he had no support from his consort, and concluding that she had been captured, hauled his wind again, and stood out in the offing. Our hero pulled after her, although he could not see the other boats; but the breeze had freshened, and all pursuit was useless: he therefore directed his course to the convoy, and, after a hard pull, contrived to get on board of a one-masted xebeque, of about fifty tons. Mesty, who had eyes as sharp as a needle, had observed that when the alarm was given, several of the convoy had not rounded the point, and he therefore proposed, as this vessel was very light, that they should make short tacks with her, to weather the point, as if they were escaping, and by that means be able, particularly if it fell calm again, to capture some others. Jack thought this advice good. The convoy who had rounded the point had all stood out to seaward with the gun-boat, and had now a fresh breeze. To chase them was therefore useless; and the only chance was to do as Mesty had proposed. He therefore stood out into the breeze, and, after half an hour, tacked in shore, and fetched well to windward of the low point; but finding no vessels, he stood out again. Thus had he made three or four tacks, and had gained, perhaps, six or seven miles, when he perceived signals of recall made to leeward, enforced with guns.

  “Mr Sawbridge wants us to come back, Mesty.”

  “Mr Sawbridge mind him own business,” replied Mesty, “we nebber take all dis trubble to ply to windward for noting.”

  “But, Mesty, we must obey orders.”

  “Yes, sar, when he have him thumb upon you; but now, must do what tink most proper. By de powers, he catch me ‘fore I go back.”

  “But we shall lose the ship.”

  “Find her again, by-and-bye, Massa Easy.”

  “But they will think that we are lost.”

  “So much the better, nebba look after us, Massa Easy; I guess we have a fine cruise anyhow. Morrow we take large vessel — make sail, take more, den we go to Toulon.”

  “But I don’t know my way to Toulon; I know it lies up this way, and that’s all.”

  “Dat enough, what you want more? Massa Easy, ‘pose you not find fleet, fleet soon find you. By God, nobody nebba lost here. Now, Massa Easy, let um go ‘bout gain. Somebody else burn biscuit and boil kettle to-morrow for de gentlemen. Murder Irish! only tink, Massa Easy — I boil kettle, and prince in my own country!”

  Easy was very much of a mind with Mesty; “for,” argued Jack, “if I go back now, I only bring a small vessel half full of beans, and I shall be ashamed to show my face. Now it is true, that they may suppose that we have been sunk by the fire of the gun-boat. Well, what then? they have a gun-boat to show for their night’s work, and it will appear that there was harder fighting than there has been, and Mr Sawbridge may benefit by it.” (Jack was a very knowing fellow to have learned so much about the service already.) “Well, and when they discover that we are not lost, how glad they will be to find us, especially if we bring some prizes — which I will do, or I’ll not go back again. It’s not often that one gets a command before being two months at sea, and, hang me, now I’ve got it if I won’t keep it; and Mr Smallsole may mast-head whom he pleases. I’m sorry for poor Gossett though; if Vigors supposes me dead how he will murder the poor little fellow — however, it’s all for the good of the service, and I’ll revenge him when I come back. Hang me if I won’t take a cruise.”