“Who are you?” interrupted the lieutenant, gruffly.

  “I was impressed last night, sir; — may I speak to you?”

  “No sir, you may not.”

  “It might save you some trouble, sir.”

  “It will save me more to send you down below. Mr Vincent, shove this man down forward; why is he at large?”

  “He was under the doctor’s hands, I believe, sir. Come this way, my hearty — stir your stumps.”

  Newton would have expostulated, but he was collared by two of the press-gang, and very unceremoniously handed forward to the hatchway; the grating was taken off, and he was lowered down to the deck below, where he found himself cooped up with more than forty others, almost suffocated for the want of air and space. The conversation (if conversation it could be called) was nothing but one continued string of curses and execrations, and vows of deep revenge.

  The jolly-boat returned, pulling only two oars; the remainder of her crew, with Thompson and Merton, having taken this opportunity of deserting from their forced servitude. With some hearty execrations upon the heads of the offending parties, and swearing that by God there was no such thing as gratitude in a sailor, the commander of the cutter weighed his anchor, and proceeded to sea.

  The orders received by the lieutenant of the cutter, although not precisely specifying, still implying that he was to bring back his cargo alive, as soon as his Majesty’s cutter, Lively, was fairly out at sea, the hatches were taken off, and the impressed men allowed to go on deck in the proportion of about one half at a time, two sailors, with drawn cutlasses, still remaining sentry at the coombings of the hatchway, in case of any discontented fellow presuming to dispute such lawful authority.

  Newton Forster was happy to be once more on deck; so much had he suffered during his few hours of confinement, that he really felt grateful for the indulgence. The sky was bright, and the cutter was dashing along the coast with the wind, two points free, at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour. She was what sailors term rather a wet one, and as she plunged through the short waves the sea broke continually over her bows and chesstree, so that there was no occasion to draw water for purification. Newton washed his face and head, and felt quite revived as he inhaled the fresh breeze, and watched the coast as the vessel rapidly passed each head-land in her course. All around him were strangers, and no one appeared inclined to be communicative; even the most indifferent, the most stoical, expressed their ideas in disjointed sentences; they could not but feel that their project and speculations had been overthrown by a captivity so anomalous with their boasted birthright.

  “Where are we going?” inquired Newton of a man who stood next him, silently watching the passing foam created by the rapid course of the vessel.

  “To hell I hope, with those who brought us here!” replied the man, grinding his teeth with a scowl of deep revenge.

  At this moment Judy Malony came pattering along the wet deck with a kid of potato-peelings to throw over the bows. Newton recognised her, and thanked her for her kindness.

  “It’s a nice boy that you are, sure enough, now that you’re swate and clean,” replied Judy. “Bad luck to the rapparee who gave you the blow! I axed my husband if it was he; but he swears upon his salvation that it was no one if it wasn’t Tim O’Connor, the baste!”

  “Where are we going?” inquired Newton.

  “A’nt we going to dinner in a minute or two?”

  “I mean where is the cutter bound to?”

  “Oh! the cutter you mane! If she can only find her way it’s to Plymouth, sure; — they’re waiting for ye.”

  “Who is waiting for us?”

  “Why, three fine frigates as can’t go to sea without hands. You never heard of a ship sailing without hands; the poor dumb craturs can’t do nothing by themselves.”

  “Do you know where the frigates are going?”

  “Going to say, I lay my life on’t,” replied Judy, who then walked forward, and broke up the conversation.

  The next morning the cutter ran into Hamoaze, and boats were sent on board to remove the impressed men to the guard-ship. There, much to his annoyance and mortification, Newton found, that with the others, he was treated as a close prisoner. The afternoon of the same day another vessel arrived from the eastward with a collection of offenders, who for a variety of crimes and misdemeanors had been sentenced to serve on board of a man-of-war. No distinction was made; all were huddled together, and treated alike, until summoned on the quarterdeck, when their names were called out for distribution to the several men-of-war. Each ship having a quota of seamen and pickpockets allotted to her in due proportion, the men were ordered down into the boats; and in less than an hour Newton found himself on board of a fine frigate lying in the Sound, with her fore-topsail losse, as a signal of her immediate departure.

  Chapter Eleven.

  ’Tis man’s bold task the gen’rous strife to try,

  But in the hands of God is victory.

  Iliad.

  Newton, and the other men who had been selected for the frigate, on board of which they had been despatched (victualled the day discharged), were mustered on the quarter-deck by the first lieutenant, who asked them the questions, whether they were bred to the sea, and could take the helm and lead. Having noted down their answers, he stationed them accordingly, and they were dismissed. Newton would again have appealed, but on reflection thought it advisable to await the arrival of the captain. Beds and blankets were not supplied that evening: the boats were hoisted up, sentries on the gang ways supplied with ball-cartridges to prevent desertion, and permission granted to the impressed men to “prick for the softest plank” which they could find for their night’s repose.

  At daylight the hands were turned up, the capstern manned, the frigate unmoored, and hove “short stay a-peak” on her anchor remaining down. The gig was sent on shore with two midshipmen, one to watch the men and prevent their desertion, while the other went up to the captain’s lodgings to report her arrival: the topsails were loosed, sheeted home, and hoisted, the yards braced by, and Newton to his sorrow perceived that the captain’s arrival would be the signal for immediate departure. The signalman, on the look-out with his glass, reported the gig coming off with the captain; and in obedience to the orders he had received, the first-lieutenant immediately hove up, and the anchor having been “catted and fished,” the frigate lay-to in the Sound. As soon as the boat came alongside, and the captain had been received with the customary honours, he desired sail to be made on her as soon as the boat was hoisted up, and then descended to his cabin. In three minutes Newton perceived that all chance of release for the present was over; the courses and topgallant sails were set, and the frigate darted past the Ram Head at the rate of ten miles per hour.

  In about twenty minutes, after the messenger had been stowed away, the cables coiled in the tiers, and the ropes flemished down on deck, the captain made his appearance, and directed the first-lieutenant to send aft the newly impressed men. In few words he pointed out to them the necessity of their servitude; and concluded by recommending them to enter his majesty’s service, and receive the bounty to which they would become entitled; observing, that the men who did so would raise themselves in his good opinion, and as far as he had the power, would not be forgotten by him, provided that their general good conduct merited his favour. Some few accepted the terms, but the most of them positively refused. When Newton was addressed, he stated to the captain that he was master of a vessel, and exempted by law from the impress.

  “It is easy to assert that,” observed the captain; “but where are your proofs? your youth almost denies what you affirm.”

  “There are my papers, sir, my clearance from the Custom-house, and my bill of lading, which I had in my pocket, intending to sail a few minutes after the time that I was impressed.”

  “I observe,” replied the captain, examining the papers, “they appear to be all correct. What is your name?”

  “Newton Forster.”

  “Then this is your signature?”

  “It is, sir.”

  Mr Pittson, desire the clerk to bring up a pen and ink.

  The clerk made his appearance.— “Now, sign your name.” — Newton obeyed, and his signature was compared with that on the bill of lading, by the captain and first-lieutenant.

  “Why did you not mention this before?” continued the captain.

  “I attempted several times, but was not permitted to speak.” Newton then stated how he had been treated when impressed, and afterwards by the officer commanding the cutter.

  “You certainly were exempted from the impress, if what you state is true; and I believe it so to be,” replied the captain.— “It is a hard case; but what can I do? Here we are at sea, and likely to remain on a cruise of several months. You cannot expect to eat the bread of idleness on board of a man-of-war. You will do your duty wherever you are stationed. There is no disgrace in serving his majesty, in any capacity. I tell you candidly, that although I would not have impressed you myself, I am very glad that I have you on board; I wish I had fifty more of the same sort, instead of the sweepings of the gaols, which I am obliged to mix up with prime seamen.”

  “Perhaps, sir, you will have the kindness to send me back by the first homeward-bound vessel?”

  “No, that I cannot do; you are on the ship’s books, and the case must be referred to the Admiralty on our return: that it will be my duty to attend to, upon your application; but I hope before that you will have entered into his majesty’s service.”

  “And in the mean time my poor father may starve,” said Newton, with a sigh, not addressing those around him, but giving utterance to his thoughts.

  The captain turned away, and paced the quarter-deck with the first-lieutenant. At last he was overheard to say— “It’s a very hard case, certainly. Forster, can you navigate?” continued the captain, addressing Newton.

  “Yes, sir, I can work up a dead reckoning, and take the sun’s altitude.”

  “Very well, that will do. — Mr Pittson, you may dismiss them. Are they put into messes?”

  “All, sir.”

  “It’s twelve o’clock, sir,” said the master, touching his hat, with his quadrant in his hand.

  “Make it so, and pipe to dinner.”

  Newton was stationed in the foretop. In a few days the awkwardness arising from the novelty of the scene and from the superior dimensions of every variety of equipment on board of the frigate, compared to the small craft to which he had been accustomed, passed away. The order which was exacted to preserve discipline, the precision with which the time was regulated, the knowledge of the duty allotted to him, soon made him feel that no more was exacted than what could easily be performed, and that there was no hardship in serving on board of a man-of-war; the only hardship was, the manner in which he had been brought there. Although he often sighed as he thought of his father and mother, he did his duty cheerfully, and was soon distinguished as a most promising young sailor.

  Captain Northfleet was a humane and good officer, and his first-lieutenant followed in his steps, and equally deserved the character. Before the ship’s company had been six weeks together, they were in a tolerable state of discipline; and proved such to be the case, by acknowledging that they were happy. This, added to the constant excitement of chasing and capturing the vessels of the enemy with the anticipation of prize-money, soon made most of those who had been impressed, forget what had occurred, or cease to lament it as a hardship. The continual exercise of the guns was invariably followed up by a general wish that they might fall in with an enemy of equal force, to ascertain whether such constant drilling had been thrown away upon them. The Terpsichore received supplies of provisions and water from other ships, and for nine months continued a successful cruise.

  Several prizes had already been captured, and sent home to England. The complement of the frigate was materially reduced by so many absentees, although some of her men had been brought out to her by other vessels, when a strange sail was discovered from the mast-head. A few hours sufficed to bring the swift Terpsichore alongside of the stranger, who first hoisted, and then immediately hauled down the tricoloured flag in token of submission. She proved to be a French brig, bound to the Cape of Good Hope, with ammunition and government stores. The third-lieutenant, and all the midshipmen who could navigate, were already away; and this prize proving valuable, Captain Northfleet resolved to send her in. The difficulty relative to a prize-master was removed by the first-lieutenant, who recommended Newton Forster. To this suggestion the Captain acceeded; and Newton, with five men, and two French prisoners to assist, was put on board of the Estelle, with written instructions to repair to Plymouth, and, upon his arrival there, deliver up the prize to the agent, and report himself to the admiral.

  Captain Northfleet also returned to Newton the papers of his sloop, and gave him a letter to the admiral, stating the hardship of his case. At the same time that he informed him of the contents of his letter, he recommended Newton to continue in the service, promising that, if he took the vessel safe into port, he would put him on the quarterdeck, as one of the mates of the frigate. Newton thanked Captain Northfleet for his good intentions; and, requesting permission to reflect upon his proposal, took his leave, and in a few minutes was on board of the Estelle.

  There was a buoyancy of spirits in Newton when he once more found himself clear of the frigate. He acknowledged that he had been well treated, and that he had not been unhappy; but still it was emancipation from forced servitude. It is hard to please where there are so many masters; and petty tyranny will exist, and cause much discontent before it is discovered, even where the best discipline prevails. The imperious behaviour of the young midshipmen, who assume the same despotic sway which is exercised over themselves, as soon as their superiors are out of sight and hearing, was often extremely galling to Newton Forster, and it frequently required much forbearance not to retort. However in strict justice this might be warranted, discipline would not permit it, and it would have been attended with severe punishment. It was therefore with a feeling of delight, that Newton found himself his own master, and watched the hull and canvass of the Terpsichore, as they gradually sunk below the horizon.

  The Estelle was a fine vessel, and her cargo not being all composed of heavy materials, was sufficiently light on the water to sail well. At the time of her capture, they were, by the reckoning of the frigate, about fourteen hundred miles from the Lizard. In a fortnight, therefore, with the wind at all propitious, Newton hoped to set his foot upon his native land. He crowded all the sail which prudence would allow; and, with the wind upon his quarter, steered his course for England.

  The men sent with him in the brig consisted of two able seamen, and three of the gang which had been collected from the gaols and brought round from the eastward. Captain Northfleet spared the former, as it was necessary that a part of the crew should be able to steer and navigate the vessel; the latter, with the sincere hope of never seeing them again, taking it for granted that they would run away as soon as they arrived at Plymouth. With the two prisoners, they were sufficient to work the vessel.

  During the first ten days the wind was generally in their favour, and the brig was not far off from the chops of the Channel, when a low raking vessel was perceived bearing down upon them from the North West. Newton had no glass; but as she neared to within three miles, the vessel wore the appearance of a privateer schooner; but whether an enemy or not, it was impossible to decide. The Estelle had two small brass guns on her forecastle; and Newton, to ascertain the nation to which the privateer belonged, hoisted the French ensign and fired a gun. In a minute the privateer hoisted English colours; but as she continued to bear down upon them, Newton, not feeling secure, rove his studding sail gear, and made all preparation for running before the wind, which he knew to be the brig’s best point of sailing. The privateer had approached to within two miles, when Roberts, one of the seamen, gave his decided opinion that she was a French vessel, pointing out the slight varieties in the rigging and build of the vessel, which would not have been apparent to any one but a thorough-bred seaman.

  “We’d better up helm, and get the sail upon her. If she be French, she’ll soon show herself by firing at us.”

  Newton was of the same opinion. The brig was put before the wind, and gradually all her canvass was spread. The privateer immediately shook out all her reefs, set her lofty sails, hoisted French colours, and, in a few minutes, a shot whizzed through the rigging of the Estelle, and pitched into the water ahead of them.

  “I thought so,” cried Roberts. “It’s a Johnny Crapeau. A starn chase is a long chase, anyhow. The brig sails well, and there ain’t more than two hours daylight; so Monsieur must be quick, or we’ll give him the slip yet.”

  The privateer was now within a mile of them; both vessels had “got their way;” and their respective powers of sailing were to be ascertained. In half an hour the privateer had neared to three quarters of a mile.

  “I think our little guns will soon reach her,” observed Newton. “Williams, give me the helm. Go forward with Roberts and the men, and rouse them aft. Be smart, my lads, for she has the heels of us.”

  “Come along,” said Roberts. “You, Collins, why don’t you stir? — do you wish to see the inside of a French prison?”

  “No,” replied Collins, sauntering forward, “not particularly.”

  “Only by way of a change, I suppose,” observed Thompson, another of the convicts. “You have been in every gaol in England, to my knowledge — havn’t you, Ben?”

  “Mayhap I have,” replied Collins; “but one gentleman should never interfere with the consarns of another. I warn’t whipped at the cart-tail, as you were, last Lancaster ‘sizes.”

  “No; but you had a taste of it on board of the Terpsichore. Ben, you aren’t forgot that?” retorted Hillson, the other of the three characters who had been sent with Newton.