“Well, Cross,” said I, as I came on deck and went aft to look at the prize in tow, “this is a nice business, and our captain will gain a great deal of credit.”

  “And he deserves it, Master Keene,” replied Cross: “as I said before, I never had an idea that he could handle his ship so well — no, nor none of the ship’s company. We all thought Mr Hippesley the best officer of the two, but we have found out our mistake. The fact is, Mr Keene, Captain Delmar wraps himself an in his dignity like a cloak, and there’s no making him out, till circumstances oblige him to take it off.”

  “That’s very true, Bob,” replied I: “it is only this very morning that he laughed himself, and I laughed also, and he pulled up immediately afterwards, twice as stiff to me as before.”

  I then told Bob of Mr Culpepper’s report, which amused him very much.

  “I am sure that he is pleased with you, Mr Keene, and I must say that you were very useful and very active.”

  “Do you know that the carpenter says that we have received injuries that cannot be well repaired without the ship going into dock, and I should not be surprised if we were to be sent home, if the survey confirms his report. I hope we shall; I am tired of the West Indies, and I should like to see my mother; we have a nice breeze now, and we are two points free. If it lasts, we shall be at Jamaica in a fortnight or less.”

  The captain coming on deck put an end to our conversation.

  Before night the prize had got up jury-masts, and sail set upon them, and we went through the water more rapidly. In ten days we arrived at Port Royal with our prize. The captain went on shore, and what was still more agreeable, we got rid of all our prisoners and wounded men. A survey, in consequence of the carpenter’s report was held upon the Calliope, and the result was, she was ordered home to be repaired. The Dort was commissioned by the admiral, and Mr Hippesley received an acting order to the sloop of war, which had become vacant by the commander of her being promoted into the Dort, which was now christened the Curaçao.

  In ten days after our arrival we were ready, and made sail for Old England. Tommy Dott and the second lieutenant remained on board, and were both convalescent before we entered the Channel. Tommy Dott’s wound, by the bye, was a splinter in the back, added to severe bruises from tumbling down the hatchway.

  Captain Delmar had shown great kindness to the son of the Dutch captain and he did not send him on shore with the rest of the prisoners, but permitted him to remain, and come home in the Calliope. He recovered slowly, but was soon out of danger, and was walking about with his arm in a sling long before we arrived in England. It appeared to me that, during the passage home, old Culpepper was not so much in the good graces of Captain Delmar as he used to be; he was, however, more obsequious than ever. We had a fine run home, and in seven weeks from our leaving Port Royal, we dropped our anchor at Spithead.

  I may have been wrung, but it certainly did appear to me that as we neared the coast of England, the behaviour of Captain Delmar was more reserved to me (I may say it was harsher) than ever it had been before. Hurt at treatment which I felt I did not deserve, I tried to analyse the cause as I walked up and down the deck, and at last I decided that his pride was again alarmed. On the one hand he was returning to his own country, to meet with his aristocratical connections, and on the other he was reminded of my mother, and his mésalliance with her — if such a term can be used to a woman who had sacrificed herself to one above her in rank. At all events, I was the result of that connection, and I presumed that he was ashamed of it, and consequently kept me at a distance, and checked his feelings towards me. Perhaps he thought that my mother might be induced to disclose to me that which I had under his own hand-writing, and wore next my heart; or he might consider I was no longer a boy, but a tall young man, and one who might be induced to claim his protection. Such were my reflections, and my resolutions were taken accordingly — I wanted no Bob Cross to counsel me now.

  When the captain left the ship, I made no request, as did the other midshipmen, for leave to see my friends; nor even when he returned on board, which he did several times after the ship had gone into harbour, and was stripping, preparatory to being docked. One thing, however, gave me great satisfaction, which was, that when the despatch which we brought home was published, I found my name honourably mentioned in conjunction with other officers, and but three midshipmen were named.

  When the Calliope went into dock the report of the dockyard was very unfavourable. She required a thorough repair which would take some months. She was therefore ordered to be paid off. In the mean time the captain had gone to London. During his sojourn at Portsmouth I had never spoken to him, except on duty, and he had left me without a word of explanation as to his intentions towards me. As soon, however, as the order came down for paying off the ship, I received a letter from him, very cold and stiff, stating that I might, if I pleased, join any other ship, and he would recommend me to the captain; or I might remain on the books of the guard-ship, and wait until he commissioned another vessel, when he would be happy to take me with him.

  My reply was immediate. I thanked him for his kindness, and hoped I might remain on board the guard-ship until he took the command of another vessel, as I did not wish to sail with any other captain. I had been brought forward by him in the service, and preferred waiting for months rather than lose his kind protection.

  The only reply to my letter was an order from the Admiralty, for me to be discharged into the guard-ship when the Calliope was paid off.

  I hardly need say that I had written and received letters from my mother, who was delighted at my name being mentioned in the despatches; but I will defer family news till the proper opportunity, as I must first tell all that occurred in the Calliope before she was paid off.

  The reader will recollect that the son of the Dutch captain, whose name was Vangilt, had been permitted to come home in the ship, instead of being sent to prison. He and I were very intimate and when I discovered that he was the cousin of Minnie Vanderwelt, I became more partial to him. He was very melancholy during the passage home; how, indeed, could he be otherwise, with the prospect of being a prisoner during the remainder of the war? and he often expressed his feelings on the subject.

  “Could you not escape?” said I, one evening.

  “I fear not,” replied he. “If once out of prison, I have no doubt but that I could get a conveyance over the Channel by means of the smugglers; indeed, I have connections in England who would assist me.”

  When Captain Delmar went away to town, he had quite forgotten the poor fellow, and Mr Weymss, who was the commanding officer, did not make any special report of him as he thought he might defer it till the last moment, as every day out of prison would be so much gained by young Vangilt, who was a general favourite.

  In this instance, my regard for the young man made me quite forget my duty as an officer, and the Articles of War. I knew that I was about to do wrong; but I considered that, with so many thousand prisoners which we had in England, one more or less could be of no consequence, and I set to work to see if I could not effect his escape.

  After much cogitation, I found I could do nothing without Bob Cross and I consulted with him. Bob shook his head, and said it was, he believed, hanging matter; but, after all, it was a pity that such a nice lad should be peeping between iron bars. “Besides,” continued he, “he lost his father in the action, and he ought not to lose his liberty also. Well, Mr Keene, show me how I can help you.”

  “Why, Bob there’s a very pretty little girl, who very often comes alongside with the old woman, and you go down into the boat and talk with her.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Bob, “that’s the little girl I told you of, that used to repeat her fables on my knee. The fact is, I hope to splice her some of these days. It’s her mother who is with her, and she will not let her come on board to mix with the other women, because she is good and modest; too good for me, I’m afraid, in one sense of the word.”

  “How do you mean Bob?”

  “Why, sir, when I first knew her, she and her mother were living upon what they could earn, for the father was killed in action many years ago, and I used to help them as far as I could; but now I find that, although they are not changed, things are, most confoundedly. Her uncle lost his wife; he is considered a rich man, and being stone blind, and having no one to take care of him after his wife’s death, he sent for this girl and her mother to keep his house and he is very fond of the girl, and declares that he will leave her all his money, and that she shall marry well. Now, sir, if she was to marry me, a petty officer only, it would not be considered that she married well; so you see, sir, there’s a hitch.”

  “Who and what was he?”

  “He was a smuggler, sir, and a very successful one; he has six or seven houses, all his own property besides the one he lives in himself. He lives about a quarter of a mile out of Gosport. I know all about him, although I have never seen him. Soon after he left off smuggling, he lost his eyesight, and, somehow or another, he considered it was a judgment upon him — at least his wife, who had joined the Ranters, persuaded him so — and so he took a religious turn, and now he does nothing but pray, and call himself a poor blind sinner.”

  “Well, Bob, but I do not see why you should give up the girl.”

  “No, sir; nor will she or her mother give me up. I could marry her to-morrow without his consent, but I do not like to do her that injury.”

  “He is stone-blind, you say?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll talk your affair over another time. What I want at present is, to help this poor young Vangilt to escape. He says, that if once clear, the smugglers would put him on the other side of the water. Now, it appears to me that it would be very easy for him to get out of the ship unperceived, if he were dressed in woman’s clothes, so many women are going and coming all day long.”

  “Very true, sir, especially on pay-day, when nobody keeps any look-out at all. I see now, you want some of Mary’s clothes for him; they would fit very well.”

  “Exactly; and I think that, as her uncle had been a smuggler, we might go and consult him as to his escape over the water. Vangilt will pay 100 pounds with pleasure — he told me so. That will be an introduction for you as well as for me to the old fellow.”

  “I think we had better let the old fellow suppose it’s a woman — don’t you, sir? But what shall we call ourselves?”

  “Why, I will be a sort of agent for ships, an you shall be a captain.”

  “A captain! Mr Keene.”

  “Yes; a captain, who has had a ship, and expects another. Why, you were a captain of the fore-top before you were rated coxswain.”

  “Well, sir, I must consult Mary and her mother, and then I’ll let you know: they will come this afternoon. Perhaps in helping Mr Vangilt, I may help myself.”

  That night Bob Cross told me that Mary and her mother were quite willing to assist, and that they thought it would be a very good introduction to old Waghorn: that we must expect some religious scruples at first, but we must persevere, and they had no doubt that the old man would contrive to get the young man over to Cherbourg, or some other place on the other side; that we had better call on him in the evening, and they would be out of the way.

  As soon as the work was over for the day, Bob Cross and I obtained leave, and set off for Mr Waghorn’s house. We were met by Mary and her mother, who pointed it out to us, and then continued their walk. We went to the door, and found the old man smoking his pipe.

  “Who’s there?” cried he, as we lifted the latch of the gate.

  “Friends, sir,” replied Cross; “two persons who come to talk on business.”

  “Business! I’ve no business — I’ve done with business long ago: I think of nothing but my perishing soul — poor blind worm that I am.”

  He was a very fine-looking old man, although weather-beaten, and his silver locks hung down on his collar; his beard was not shaved, but clipped with scissors: his want of sight gave him a mournful look.

  “Nevertheless, sir, I must introduce myself and my friend, the captain,” replied I, “for we want your assistance.”

  “My assistance! poor blind beetle — how can I assist you?”

  “The fact is, sir, that a young woman is very anxious to return to her friends, on the other side of the water; and knowing that you have acquaintance with those who run to and fro, we thought you might help the poor young woman to a passage.”

  “That’s to say, you’ve heard that I was a smuggler. People do say so; but, gentlemen, I now pay customs and excise — my tea has paid duty, and so has my tobacco; so does everything — the king has his own. The Bible says, ‘Render under Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.’ Gentlemen, I stand by the Bible. I am a poor, sinful old wretch — God forgive me.”

  “We ask nothing against the Bible, Mr Waghorn; it’s our duty to assist those who are in distress; it’s only a poor young woman.”

  “A poor young woman. If she’s poor, people don’t do such work for nothing; besides, it’s wrong, gentlemen — I’ve given up all that, — I’ve a precious soul to look after, and I can’t divert my attention from it. I wish you good-bye, gentlemen.”

  At this moment Mary and her mother returned, and we rose up. “Mrs James, is that you and Mary? Here’s a captain and his friend come to me; but it’s a fool’s errand, and so I’ve told them.”

  I then stated to Mrs James what we had come for, and begged that she would persuade Mr Waghorn.

  “Well, Mr Waghorn, why won’t you? — it’s a good action, and will have its reward in heaven.”

  “Yes; but she’s a poor young woman, and can’t pay her passage, so it’s no use.”

  “On the contrary,” replied I, “the captain here will become security, that 100 pounds shall be paid down as soon as she arrives in any part of France or Holland.”

  “Will he? But who’s the captain?”

  “I haven’t a ship just now, but I expect one soon,” replied Bob; “the money shall be paid at once, if you will only receive the young woman until she can be sent off.”

  “Well let me see — there’s James Martin; no he won’t do. There’s Will Simpson; yes, that’s the man. Well, it’s a good act; and, captain, when will you bring the money?”

  Now the ship was to be paid off on Wednesday and as we had each three years’ pay due, there was no difficulty about that; so I replied, “On Wednesday, the captain will give the money to this lady, or whoever comes with us to receive the young woman; will you not, Captain Cross?”

  “Oh! certainly; the money is ready at an hour’s notice,” replied Bob. “I’m sure that she’ll pay me back, if she can; and if she can’t, it’s of no consequence.”

  “Well, well, it’s a bargain,” replied the old man. “I’m a poor blind beetle, a sinful old soul; I’ve nothing to do but to make my peace with Heaven. It’s charity— ‘Charity covereth a multitude of sins,’ saith St. Paul. Recollect 100 pounds — that’s the bargain. I’ll send Mrs James to you; you must not call again till she’s on the other side of the water.”

  “Many thanks, sir,” replied Bob. “I won’t call till I hear she is safe, and then I’ll bring you some tobacco to smoke, such as you don’t often pick up nowadays.”

  “Happy to see you, Captain Cross, and your friend there,” replied the old man.

  We then took our leave. Mrs James, after we were gone, praised the appearance of Captain Cross, as such a nice-looking man, and old Waghorn evidently thought well of him by the answer he made. Mary, however, pretended to prefer me.

  As soon as I returned on board, I told young Vangilt what I had been about. He wrung my hand, and the tears started in his eyes. “You, as an officer, are indeed risking much for me. As to the money, you know me, I trust, too well, not to be sure of receiving it as soon as I can send it; but I never can repay your kindness.”

  “Perhaps you may be able to help me one of these days,” I replied. “Who knows? It’s fortune of war, my good fellow; but it’s as well not to be seen too much together.” So saying, I left him.

  The next day, Mrs James came off with the necessary garments and bonnet for his escape, and they were given me by Bob Cross. The day after was pay-day; and the ship was in such a state of confusion, and there were so many people on board, that there was no difficulty whatever. Vangilt changed his clothes in the midshipmen’s berth, which was empty, and Bob Cross handed him down the side into the boat, where Mrs James waited to receive him. Bob and I had both been paid, and we gave her the 100 pounds for old Waghorn. The boat shoved off; Vangilt arrived safe at Waghorn’s house, where he was kept concealed for eight days, when, for the sum of 20 pounds, he was safely landed on the French coast, old Waghorn having pocketed 80 pounds by the transaction which, considering he acted out of pure charity, was a pretty good reward.

  Having thus successfully managed, by being guilty of high treason, in aiding and abetting the enemy, I bade farewell to Bob Cross, leaving him to follow up his amour, while I went to Chatham to pay my respects to my mother. I had made up my mind how to act. I was no longer a child, but a man in reflection as well as appearance.

  I arrived, and hastened to the house from which I had escaped so mysteriously the last time I was in it. My mother threw herself in my arms, embracing me, and then looking at me with surprise and pleasure. Three years and a half had changed me; she hardly knew me, for her association of ideas had still pictured me as the smart stripling whom she had, with so much anguish, consigned into the hands of Bob Cross. She was proud of me — my adventures, my dangers, my conduct, and my honourable mention in the Gazette, were all known to her, and she had been evidently congratulated by many upon my successful career. My grandmother, who had grown much older in appearance, seemed to be softened towards me, and I had sense enough to receive her advances with great apparent cordiality. My aunt and the captain were delighted to see me, and I found that my two cousins, of whose appearance I had been duly apprised, were very pretty children. I found that my mother had two assistants in her business and everything appeared to be on a grander scale, and more flourishing than ever.