Chapter IV: Part 4

"I must have my eye on him, there is stuff in that lad," observed the captain. The deed which had called forth this eulogium was certainly well worthy of praise. The "Marlborough" had for some time been furiously engaged, almost broadside to broadside, with the "Impetueux," a French seventy-four, which ship had just fallen aboard her, the Frenchman's bowsprit becoming entangled in her mizen rigging. To keep her antagonist in that position was of the greatest consequence to the "Marlborough," as she might thus rake her fore and aft, receiving but little damage in return. An officer and two or three men sprang into the "Marlborough's" mizzen rigging to secure the bowsprit to it. The French small-arm men rushed forward to prevent this being done, by keeping up a fire of musketry. The two seamen fell. The lieutenant still hung in the rigging, but the rope with which he was lashing the bowsprit to it was shot from his hand; no other was within reach. Having just delivered the powder he had brought from below, young Ripley was watching the proceeding. Seizing a rope he sprang into the rigging unhurt amid a shower of bullets, and handed it to the brave officer. Together they made the required turns for lashing it fast, and descended to the deck in safety. The young powder-boy then resuming his tub was speedily again seen at his station, composedly sitting on the top of it as if he had performed no unusual deed. The "Marlborough" had soon another antagonist, the "Mucius," seventy-four, which fell aboard her on the bow, the three ships thus forming a triangle, of which the British ship was the base. With these two opponents, each more powerful than she was, the "Marlborough" continued the seemingly unequal fight, but the stout arms and hearts of her crew made amends for their inferiority in numbers. Her mizzenmast fell soon after the "Mucius" engaged her, her fore and main masts followed, and the Frenchmen began to hope that victory was to be theirs, but they had not discovered at that time the stuff of which British tars are made. Though dismasted herself, she had her foes fast so that they could not escape. So well did her crew work their guns, that they quickly shot away the bowsprit and all the lower masts of the "Impetueux," those of the "Mucius" soon sharing the same fate. At this juncture another French ship, the "Montagne," passing under the "Marlborough's" stern, fired a broadside into her of round-shot and langridge, killing many of her brave crew, and wounding among others her captain, though receiving but a few shots in return. The first battle in that long, protracted, and bloody war was over, and won by England's veteran admiral, Lord Howe; six of the enemy's finest line of battle ships forming the prize of victory, and among them the "Impetueux."

The "Marlborough's" captain had not forgot the promise he had made to himself in favour of Young Ripley. As he lay wounded in his cabin he sent for the boatswain. The proud father had heard of his son's gallantry, and the captain's words had been repeated to him. It would have been difficult to find a finer specimen of the superior class of British seaman, the pith and sinew of the navy, than the boatswain of the "Marlborough" presented, as, still in the prime of manhood, he stood, hat in hand, before his captain. By his manner and appearance he looked indeed well fitted for the higher ranks of his profession, but it was his lot to be a boatswain, and he did not complain. With unfeigned satisfaction he heard the account of his son's gallantry and coolness rehearsed by the captain's lips.

"You have always proved yourself to be a brave man and a good officer, and although I have it not in my power to reward you as you deserve, I can your son," said the captain. "Would it be satisfactory to you to see him placed on the quarterdeck?"

The father's heart beat quick; the blush of gratified pride rose to his cheeks as he answered, "It is the thing of all others I should prize. I trust that he will not be found unfitted for the rank to which he may attain if you thus put his foot on the lower ratlins."

"I am glad to have hit the thing to please you, Mr Ripley," said the captain. "Your son shall at once be rated as a midshipman in the ship's books;" and then he added, a shade of grief passing across his countenance, "He will have no difficulty in getting an outfit from the kits of the four youngsters who were killed on the 1st. By the by, what is he called?"

"Pearce, sir--Pearce Ripley is his name," answered the boatswain.

"Very well; send my clerk to me, and tell your boy that he is a midshipman. The first lieutenant will introduce him to his new messmates, and secure him a favourable reception," said the captain as the boatswain withdrew.

Pearce Ripley was a fine-looking lad of about fourteen, with an ingenuous countenance and frank manner, which spoke of an honest, brave heart. With the ship's company he had been a general favourite; it was to be proved how far he would recommend himself to the officers.

In the afternoon the young gentlemen, as all the members of the midshipmen's mess were called, were summoned on the quarterdeck, and briefly addressed by Mr Monckton, the first lieutenant. Pearce Ripley was then sent for, and the boatswain's son had no cause to complain of his, reception by those whose messmate he was about to become. They, with one exception, came forward and cordially shook him by the hand, and when he entered the berth they all seemed to vie who should pay him the most unobtrusive attention as forthwith to place him at his ease. So surely will true bravery and worth be rightly esteemed by the generous-hearted officers of the British Navy. Pearce had gained the respect of his messmates; he soon won their regard by his readiness to oblige, his good temper, his evident determination not to give or take offence, and his general kind bearing towards all. On duty he showed that he was resolved to merit the good opinion which had been formed of him. The only person who differed from the majority was Harry Verner, a midshipman of about his own age. Though Verner had shaken hands with him, it had been with reluctance and marked coldness. His manner was now haughty and supercilious in the extreme, and he took every opportunity of making sneering remarks about men who had risen from the lower orders always being out of place and never doing any good. "If such were to become customary in the service, it would drive all the gentlemen out of it," he remarked one day in. Pearce's hearing. "Not if those who entered it knew how to behave as gentlemen," Pearce replied, quietly. Verner said nothing in return, but he gave a look to show his intense displeasure. Generally Pearce walked away when Verner spoke in that style, or when at table, and he could not move, pretended not to hear what was said.

The fleet reached Portsmouth. Great was the satisfaction of the British nation at the victory won. The good King George the Third and the kind Queen Charlotte went on board all the ships and visited the wounded; honours were awarded to the chiefs, and those officers who had especially distinguished themselves were presented to their Sovereigns. Among others was Pearce Ripley, as midshipman who had helped to take the "Impetueux." The "Marlborough's" crew declared on this that he was a marked man and must get on in the service. The remark greatly excited Harry Verner's indignation and wrath. "It is high time for me to quit the service after this," he remarked, when the King patted Pearce on the head, but did not even glance towards him. Of memorable days in English history, the 1st of June, 1794, stands justly prominent.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER TWO.

The "Marlborough," though victorious, had received so tremendous a battering from her numerous opponents, that it was very clear the stout craft could not again go to sea without a thorough repair. Her officers and crew were therefore distributed among other ships then fitting out, and thus Pearce, for the first time in his life, was separated from his father, to whom he had always been accustomed to look up for guidance and advice. In some respects this might have been an advantage to the young midshipman, but the parting cost both more pains than either confessed. "I am no great preacher, my boy, but remember there's One ever watching over you, and He'll be true to you if you try honestly to be true to Him," said the boatswain, as he wrung his son's hand, and stepped down the side of the fine frigate to which Pearce through the interest of his late captain had been appointed. The crew went tramping round the capstan to the sound of the merry fife, the anchor was away, and under a wide spread of snowy canvas the dashing "Blanche" of thirty-two guns, commanded by the gallant Captain Faulkner, stood through the Needle passage between the Isle of Wight and the main, on her way down channel, bound out to the West Indies. It was a station where hurricanes, yellow fever, and sicknesses, and dangers of all sorts were to be encountered, but it was also one where enemies were to be met with, battles to be fought, prizes to be captured, and prize-money to be made, glory, honour, and promotion to be obtained, and who on board for a moment balanced one against the other?

Several of Pearce's old shipmates were on board the "Blanche," and two of his messmates, from one of whom, Harry Verner, he would rather have been separated; the other, David Bonham, he was very glad to see. Between Bonham and Verner the contrast was very great; for the former, though of excellent family, was the most unpretending fellow possible, free from pride, vanity, and selfishness, and kind-hearted, generous, good tempered, and the merriest of the merry. The first A.B. who volunteered for the "Blanche," when he knew Mr Pearce had been appointed to her, was Dick Rogers, an old friend of his father's, with whom he had served man and boy the best part of his life; and if there was one thing more strongly impressed on Dick's mind than another, it was that John Ripley, the boatswain, ought to have been a post-captain. For his father's sake Dick had at first loved Pearce, and now loved him for his own. "Though his father isn't what he should be, he shall be, that he shall, or it won't be my fault," he said to himself. Dick was no scholar, and had not many ideas beyond those connected with his profession, except that particular one in favour of Pearce which might or might not be of any service to him, and yet let us never despise a friend, however humble. Pearce did not, though he possibly had not read the fable of the lion and the mouse.

Dick Rogers was short and broad in the shoulders, though not fat, with a huge, sandy beard, a clear blue eye, and an honest smile on his lips, and saying that he was a seaman every inch of him, he needs no further description. Verner let it be known, among their new messmates, that Pearce Ripley was only the boatswain's son; and hearing this, Bonham took great care to recount to them his gallant act on the 1st of June, and to speak otherwise in his praise. Dick forward did not fail to make the young midshipman his theme, and there the fact of his parentage was undoubtedly in his favour. "We shall be, no doubt, alongside an enemy some day soon, and then will be seen what stuff the youngsters are made of," was the remark of several on board. They were not wrong in their prognostications. The Island of Desiderade, near Guadeloupe, was in sight to windward. "A sail on the weather bow!" was shouted by the look-out at the mast's head, always the keenest sighted of the seamen on board in those days.

The frigate made all sail in pursuit of the stranger, a large schooner under French colours. The chase stood into a bay defended by a fort, where she was seen to anchor with springs to her cables. Along the shore a body of troops were also observed to be posted. The drum beat to quarters as the "Blanche" worked up towards the fort, when, the water shoaling, she anchored and opened her fire in return for that which the fort, the schooner, and the soldiers were pouring in on her. Captain Faulkner's first object was to silence the fort. This was soon done. The schooner, which it was clear was heavily armed, must be brought out. The boats were called away, under command of the second lieutenant. Pearce leaped into the one to which he belonged. A master's mate, Fitzgibbon, had charge of her, and Dick Rogers formed one of her crew. Harry Verner was in another. Away the boats dashed, at a rate boats always do move pulled by British seamen when a prize is to be taken. The Frenchmen worked their guns bravely. A shot disabled the leading boat. Pearce, sitting by Fitzgibbon's side, heard a deep groan, and before he could even look up the master's mate fell forward, shot through the head. His boat took the lead. "Now's your time," cried Dick Rogers; "we'll be the first aboard, lads." The crew were not slack to follow the suggestion. In another moment they were up to the schooner, and, leaping on her deck, led by Pearce, laid on them so fiercely with their cutlasses that the Frenchmen, deserting their guns, sprang over the bulwarks into their boats on the other side nearest the shore, and, before another boat reached the vessel, pulled away towards where the troops were marching down to their support. The cables were quickly cut, and amid a shower of bullets sail was made, and the prize carried out. "I said as how he'd do it--I said he wouldn't be wanting," exclaimed Dick Rogers, as he gave his account of the cutting-out expedition to his chums on board. "He'll do more too come another occasion." That occasion did occur before many days were over. Two days afterwards the "Blanche" was joined by the "Quebec" frigate, and together, when sailing by Guadeloupe, they discovered the French thirty-six-gun frigate "Pique" lying at anchor in the harbour of Pointe-a-Pitre, ready for sea. Not to deprive his brother captain of the honour he might obtain by engaging an antagonist so worthy of him, Captain Carpenter parted company, and the "Quebec," steering westward, was soon out of sight. The next thing to be done was to get the French frigate to come out from under her protecting batteries to fight. This seemed no easy matter, for prizes were captured and sent away under her very nose, and still she did not venture forth. At length, however, on the memorable evening of the 4th of January, the "Blanche," towing off another prize in triumph, the "Pique" was seen to follow. The sun went down. It was the last many a brave man was destined to see. Darkness had come on, when the French frigate was observed through the gloom astern. The "Blanche" tacked in chase.

In the solemn hour of midnight, while darkness covered the face of the deep, the two vessels approached each other, their relative positions clearly distinguished by the light from the fighting-lanterns which streamed from their ports. The British crew, mostly stripped to the waist, stood at their quarters, grim and determined, with the gun-tackles in hand, eager for the moment to open fire. Pearce was on the quarterdeck. Young as he was, the whizzing of shots and the whistling of bullets scarcely made his heart beat quicker than usual, and yet, as in gloom and silence he waited for the signal when the bloody strife must commence, he felt an awe creep over him he had never before experienced. Nearer and nearer the combatants drew to each other. The "Pique" commenced the fight. The "Blanche" returned her distant fire; and, after various manoeuvres, the two frigates ranged up alongside each other and hotly engaged, broadside to broadside, in the fashion in which British tars have ever delighted. Fiercely the two crews fought; the French, once having began, proved themselves no unworthy antagonists. The main and mizen-masts of the "Blanche" fell, and the French, seizing the moment, ran alongside and attempted to board. The British crew sprang up to repel them. Among the foremost was Pearce, with Dick Rogers by his side. With their sharp cutlasses they drove the Frenchmen back. Again the guns roared as before. Once more the French ship fell aboard the "Blanche," her bowsprit touching the latter's capstan. Captain Faulkner hurried to secure it there, for the "Pique," thus held, was exposed to the raking fire of his frigate. Among those who flew to assist him were Pearce Ripley and Dick Rogers, the Frenchman's musketry playing hotly on them. "This is something like what you did in the old `Marlborough,' sir," said Dick to Pearce, so loud that all might hear him--so many did, and noted the words. Death was busy around them. While he was passing the lashing the young and gallant Captain Faulkner fell to the deck--a musket ball had pierced his heart. That was no time for grieving, even for one well-beloved as the captain. A hawser was being got up from below to secure the enemy's ship; but before it could be used she broke adrift, to the disappointment of the British tars. A cheer, however, burst from their throats as, directly afterwards, the "Blanche," paying off for want of after-sail, the "Pique," while attempting to cross her stern, fell once more aboard her. This time they took good care to secure the bowsprit to the stump of their mainmast; and now, running before the wind, the "Blanche" towing her opponent, the fight was continued with greater fury than ever. In vain the Frenchmen strove to free themselves by cutting the lashings--each time they made the attempt the marines drove them back with their musketry. Still it seemed doubtful with whom victory would side. The "Blanche" had no stern ports through which guns could be fought; the carpenters were unable to aid them. A bold expedient was proposed. The guns must make ports for them selves through the transom. Firemen with buckets were stationed ready to extinguish the fire which the discharge would create. With a thundering roar the guns sent their shot through the stern, and, the fire being extinguished, they began to play with terrific effect into the bows of the French frigate. Her foremast was immediately shot away; her mizen-mast was seen to fall. Still her crew, getting their quarterdeck guns trained aft, fought on; but what were they to the "Blanche's" heavy guns, which mercilessly raked her, the shot entering her bow and tearing up her deck fore and aft, sweeping away numbers of her crew at each discharge. "If those Mounseers are not made of iron, they'll not stand this battering much longer," cried Dick Rogers, who was working one of the after-guns. Pearce was standing near him. The space between the decks was filled with smoke, though which the twinkling light of the lanterns could scarcely penetrate, the flashes at each discharge showing the men, begrimed with powder, with sponge and rammers ready to load, or with their tackles to run in their guns. A cheer from the deck told them that the Frenchman's remaining mast had fallen, and now another and another that the foe had struck. The "Pique" was totally dismasted; the "Blanche" had but her foremast standing. Every boat was knocked to pieces, and how to get on board the prize, still towed by the hawser, was the question. "The hawser must form our bridge," cried Mr Mime, the second lieutenant of the ship, springing on to it, followed by Pearce, Rogers, and several men. Their weight brought the rope down into the water. For some distance they had to swim till they could climb up by it on board. What havoc and destruction a few short hours had wrought. Of a crew not far short of thee hundred men, one-third lay dead or wounded, the deck covered with gore and the wrecks of the masts and spars; guns lay dismounted, bulwarks knocked away, all telling the tale of the bravery and hardihood of both the combatants. When the sun arose there lay the victor and the conquered almost equally helpless. Such was one of the scenes through which young Ripley fought his way upwards, and gained a name and fame.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER THREE.

The person who is constantly keeping his eye on the reward he aims at is very likely to stumble and fall, and never to reach it. He, on the contrary, who thinks only how he can best perform his duty will be upheld and encouraged, and very probably obtain a higher reward than any at which he might have aspired. Pearce Ripley found this to be true in his case. Duty was his leading star. It never occurred to him to say, "Will this please my captain?" "Will this advance me in the service?" The "Blanche" was soon refitted and at sea again. Several prizes were made, and, greatly to his satisfaction, he was appointed to the command of one of them, with Bonham as his mate, and Dick Rogers as boatswain. She was a richly-laden West Indiaman, recaptured from the enemy. He was ordered to take her to England, where, on his arrival, he found his commission waiting for him.

Pearce received a right hearty welcome from his father, and intense was the satisfaction of the brave seaman when his son showed him his commission and appointment as second lieutenant to the "Vestal," an eighteen gun sloop of war, commanded by Captain Gale, and destined for the North American station.

"You have got your first step up the ratlins, Pearce. Go on as you have begun, and Heaven preserving your life, there is no reason why you shouldn't reach the highest," said the proud father, as he once more parted from his son.

Those were days of pressgangs, and Dick Rogers took good care to hide away till he ascertained the craft Pearce was to join, when he at once volunteered for her. Bonham, who had still a year to serve, was appointed to the same ship. The "Vestal" had a quick run across the Atlantic till within about five days' sail of Halifax, Nova Scotia, when a heavy gale sprang up, which tried to the utmost her seaworthy qualities. The sloop behaved beautifully, hove to, and rode buoyantly over the raging seas. Well indeed was it for her that the was properly handled, for the gale went on in creasing till the oldest seamen on board declared that they had never met with such another. It continued for a week, each day the wind blowing harder and harder, or if there was a lull it seemed to come only that the gale might gain greater strength. For days not a glimpse of sun, or moon, or stars had been obtained. It was the morning watch; the grey cold dawn had just broke. Pearce was on deck, when sweeping his eye round the horizon as the sloop rose to the summit of a sea he perceived on the lee beam the hull of a ship, rising and sinking amid the tumultuous waters. At first he thought she was keel up, but as the light increased he saw that she was a large ship with the stump of the foremast alone remaining. That she was in a bad plight was very clear. She was remarkably low in the water he fancied, and who could say how long even she might keep afloat.

The captain, being summoned, soon came on deck. To bear away for the stranger would be a work of danger to the "Vestal." Still who could tell how many human beings might be on board that sinking ship! With hatches battened down and men lashed to the helm, the captain resolved to go to the rescue.

The seas came roaring up with furious rage, as the sloop flew before them, some breaking aboard; and rounding to under the stern of the ship, she again hove to. Many people appeared on the deck of the stranger who, stretching out their arms, implored assistance. How was it to be afforded? Would a boat live in such a sea? Such appeals to British seamen are never made in vain. Pearce Ripley offered to make the experiment if men were found ready to go with him. There was no want of volunteers. A boat was lowered. It seemed as if she must be engulfed before she left the sloop's side. Ripley's progress was watched by eager eyes from both ships. Now he is in the trough of the sea, a watery mountain about to overwhelm him; now he is on the summit surrounded by driving foam. A shout is raised as he neared the sinking ship, but to get alongside was even more dangerous than the passage from one to the other. As the ship rolled and her deck was exposed to view, he saw that there were women on board, and other people besides the crew. Ropes were hove to him. He seized one, and sprang up the side. A few hurried words told him what had occurred. The ship was conveying troops and stores to Halifax, the master and first mate had been washed overboard, the second lay wounded by the falling of a spar. Many of the crew had been lost with the captain. There was no sea officer who could enforce orders; the men were mutinous. Ripley instantly assumed the command. There were several ladies. "They must first be placed in safety before a man enters the boat," he cried out, presenting a pistol at some seamen who showed an intention of leaping into her.

Some entreated that their husbands might accompany them. "Oh, father, father, come with me," exclaimed a fair girl, who was being conveyed to the side to be lowered into the boat; "I cannot, I will not leave you." She looked towards a fine, soldier-like man, who stood with several officers around him. "Impossible! Heaven protect you, dearest. Even for your sake I cannot desert my post. It is here with my men," was the answer.

The boat had already nearly as many persons in her as it would be safe to carry. This was no time for delay. Pearce lifted the young lady in his arms, and lowered himself with her into the boat. The boat returned to the "Vestal," and all those who had been rescued were put on board. The young lady again and again entreated him to save her father. Pearce promised to make every effort to bring off the colonel. "But unless his men are rescued, I doubt that he will leave the ship," he added, as he returned to his boat.

Two other boats were now lowered, but it was too evident that they could only save a part of the people from the foundering ship. Those on her deck were now seen forming a raft. It was their last hope of life should the boats not take them off. Though several of the people made a rush to the side, they were driven back by the officers and soldiers who remained firm, and the men were told off in order to allow of them to embark as arranged by Pearce. Twice the boat returned without an accident to the "Vestal." The young lady cast a reproachful look at Ripley, when she saw that her father was not among the saved. "He would not come, lady, but I will make another effort," he exclaimed, as he prepared once more to leave the corvette's side. Just then arose the fearful cry, "She is sinking! she is sinking!"

"Oh, save him! save him!" shrieked the poor girl in an agony of terror, stretching out her hands towards the spot where she fancied that she saw her beloved father struggling in the waves. Pearce and his brave companions needed not such an appeal to make them use every effort to reach their drowning fellow-creatures. Some had leaped on the half-finished raft as the ship sunk beneath them, but many of these were speedily washed off. Others were clinging to spars, and oars, and gratings. Pearce was soon in the midst of the hapless beings, many with despair on their countenances, unable to reach the boat, sinking as he neared them. He looked round for the colonel. He could not distinguish him among the rest. Three people had been hauled in, when as the boat rose to the summit of a sea he saw below him a person clinging to a grating. A hand was waved towards him. "Give way, lads," he shouted, and in another minute he had the satisfaction of hauling on board the brave officer for whom he was searching.

The other boats took off the people from the raft. He picked up several more, and returned in safety on board. The meeting of the father and his daughter need not be described. They were, he found, a colonel and Miss Verner. He was struck by the name as that of his former unamiable messmate. When the weather moderated, and the colonel was sufficiently recovered to appear on deck, he warmly expressed his gratitude to Pearce, and his admiration of the gallantry he had displayed. His daughter Alice was not less grateful. A calm succeeded the gale, and Pearce had frequent opportunities of seeing her. He did not mention Harry Verner to her, and indeed so great was the contrast he perceived between the two in manners and behaviour, that he could not suppose they were nearly related. Still there was at times an expression in Colonel Verner's countenance when he was annoyed which reminded him strongly of Harry.

There was a frank heartiness and sincerity about the young lieutenant which at once gained Miss Verner's regard. It was very different to what she had been accustomed, still his manner towards her was gentle and deferential, as if he in no way presumed on the service he had rendered her. Indeed, it never entered his head that he had rendered her any especial service, or that he had the slightest claim on her regard. He felt, as he wrote to his father, "that he had had the good fortune to command the boat which saved a colonel and Miss Verner; that they were very nice people; that the colonel was to be stationed at Halifax, and had invited him to his house whenever he could get leave on shore." He added, "That will not be very often during these stirring times, but I shall thoroughly enjoy it when I do go, for Miss Alice Verner is the most beautiful and amiable girl I have ever seen or expect to meet; without a bit of pride about her, and she talks to me as if I were an old friend."

At length the "Vestal" dropped her anchor in the fine harbour of Halifax, and with a regret which surprised him, Pearce saw the passengers depart for the shore.

"Remember, my dear Mr Ripley, Miss Verner and I shall at all times be glad to see you," said Colonel Verner as he was about to leave the ship. Alice did not say as much as her father, but Pearce believed from the expression of her countenance that she willingly seconded her father's invitation. Still he knew that the familiar intercourse which had been so delightful to him on board must come to an end. "What can she ever be to me more than she is at present?" he exclaimed to himself. "She says that I saved her life and her father's life; but then I saved the lives of many other people. To be sure I have got one step up the ratlins, but it may be very long before I get another. No, no, I'll not think about it."

The next day a special invitation to the governor's table, where he met Colonel and Miss Verner, and where all the gentlemen from the governor downwards drank wine with him, considerably altered his feelings. This was the first of many attentions which he received from the military officers and the principal inhabitants of Halifax. His time on shore was indeed fully occupied in making morning calls and in attending the parties to which he was invited. A portion of every morning he spent in the society of Miss Verner. It was very delightful, and he felt sure that he was welcome.

At length the "Vestal" was suddenly ordered to sea. Pearce had the greatest difficulty in getting on shore to wish his friends good-bye. Alice turned pale when he told her that the ship was to sail that evening. "You will come back here surely, Mr Ripley," she said, in a trembling voice; "you have been every thing to us since that awful day when you saved our lives from the sinking ship; we shall miss you, indeed we shall, very much."

Pearce could not frame a reply, at least, satisfactory to himself. He scarcely knew what he said, as he hurried away. The words might have made a vainer man than he was much happier than they did him.

The "Vestal" was bound for the West Indies. She cruised for some time, making several rich prizes, which she sent into Port Royal, Jamaica, and which filled the parses of her officers and men in a very satisfactory manner. Still, no honour or promotion was to be obtained by the capture of honest merchantmen. At length, however, there appeared a chance of falling in with an antagonist worthy of her. One morning at dawn a stranger was discovered on the lee beam. The "Vestal" was kept away, and all sail made in chase. As the "Vestal" gained on the chase, she was discovered to be a large ship, and pronounced to be flush-decked.

"Then we'll tackle her; never mind how many guns she carries," exclaimed the captain--a sentiment to which his officers and men responded heartily.

The chase was accordingly continued, and as the vessel came up with her on the weather quarter, it was seen that she was a large flush-decked ship, carrying twenty-two guns. The ensign of France flew out from the stranger's peak, and was saluted by a shot from one of the corvette's bow guns. The battle thus begun, the "Vestal" keeping the weather gauge, was continued for half-an-hour with great fury, till the Frenchman's foremast went by the board. The enemy's guns were well handled, and the corvette began to suffer accordingly. The first lieutenant and five men were killed, and the captain, a midshipman, and several men wounded. The captain was carried below, and the command devolved on Pearce. The young lieutenant's heart beat high. "Bonham," he said, addressing his friend who was standing near him, "we'll take that ship, or go down with our colours flying." The breeze which had fallen returned, and as the corvette was still under perfect command, he was able at length to obtain a position by which he could pour several raking broadsides into the bows of the enemy. Her main-top mast was shot away; her mizen-mast followed. The ensign of France was again hoisted, but did not long remain flying. Pearce poured in another broadside, and down it came, the cheers of the British crew giving notice of what had occurred to their wounded shipmates below. The prize, which proved to be the "Desiree," had lost a considerable number of her crew, most of them killed during the latter part of the action. Bonham was sent on board to take command, and in two days the "Vestal" and her prize entered in triumph the harbour of Port Royal. Here the admiral with part of the fleet were at anchor. Pearce went on board the flag-ship to make his report. He was warmly received, and highly complimented on his conduct. The next day he found that he was to be first lieutenant of the corvette, and Bonham received an acting order as second lieutenant. The "Vestal" had received so much damage, that she was obliged to refit at Port Royal. This took several weeks, and Captain Gale considered himself sufficiently recovered, when she was ready, to go to sea in her. Pearce had, however, virtually the command. Several more prizes were taken. "That's young Ripley's doing," exclaimed the admiral, "he deserves his promotion, and he shall have it."

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FOUR.

Once more the "Vestal" was at anchor in Port Royal harbour. In vain her brave captain had striven against the effects of his wounds. He must return home if he would save his life, he was told, so he applied to be superseded. The admiral came on board the "Vestal" to inspect her. The next day he sent for Ripley, and put a paper into his hand. Pearce's heart beat quick with proud satisfaction. The document was an order to take the acting command of the corvette. "I have written home by this post to ask for your commission, and to recommend that you should be confirmed in the command of the `Vestal,'" added the admiral. "I am sure that you will take care she does as good service as she performed under Captain Gale." Bonham, who had received his commission a few months before, became first lieutenant, and a young _protege_ of the admiral's received an acting order as second; so that the united ages of the three principal officers of the ship amounted to little more than fifty-five years. Old heads were worn then on young shoulders. Many prizes had been taken, and the time approached for their return to Port Royal. The corvette lay becalmed. A French store-ship was expected, which had been separated from her convoy. The "Vestal" lay disguised, as was usual in those days, looking very unlike the smart sloop she was. A blue line was seen in the horizon, the sign of an approaching breeze, and in the midst of it a sail. The breeze brought up the stranger, a fine brig, to within about a mile, when it died away. She was an armed vessel, and showed by her colours that she was French. Before long, two boats were seen to put off from her. Three boats were instantly lowered from the opposite side of the "Vestal," and manned. The Frenchmen pulled rapidly on, expecting to make an easy prize of the "Vestal." Their look of consternation was very great when they first perceived the painted canvas which concealed the corvette's guns. Pearce had carefully watched for the first sign of their wavering, and now ordered the three boats to make chase. The Frenchmen, taken by surprise, made but a slight show of resistance, and in ten minutes the whole party found themselves prisoners on the deck of the corvette. The "Vestal" was now towed up towards the brig, which opened her fire at the boats, but this did not deter them from placing the corvette on her quarter, when a few rapidly delivered and almost raking broadsides compelled her to haul down her colours, having had the chief officers left on board and ten of her crew killed or wounded. The privateer, which mounted fourteen guns, was on her way to France, having a large amount of specie and valuable goods on board, the result of a successful cruise.

It was with no little pride that Captain Ripley returned to Port Royal from his first cruise, with the fine brig in company, the British ensign flying over that of France. The admiral congratulated him on his success, and at the same time put his commission and appointment into his hand.

"You must be ready for sea again very soon though," said the admiral; "I have dispatches to send to Halifax, and unless another cruiser comes in, I must send you."

Pearce, rather to the admiral's surprise, replied with animation, that he should be ready to sail that evening if required, provided he could get water, fuel, and fresh provisions on board. The admiral gave him permission to make everybody exert themselves.

By noon the next day the young commander had got his ship ready for sea, and receiving his dispatches with a joyous heart, he shaped a course for Halifax. A bright look-out was kept, but on this occasion it was to avoid strange sails. He was only to fight for the purpose of escaping capture. Halifax was reached, and Pearce having delivered his dispatches, hurried up to Colonel Verner's house.

Miss Verner was at home. She started, and the colour rose to her cheeks when Captain Ripley was announced. She put out her hand, and did not with draw it, for Pearce forgot to let it go.

"Are you really a captain already?" she asked.

"Yes; that is, a commander. I am captain of the `Vestal,'" he answered, and he told her how Captain Gale had, been compelled to go home, and that he had been appointed in his stead. He mentioned also the number of prizes he had taken--a matter which interested Colonel Verner more than it did her.

"That young Ripley is a very fine fellow," observed the colonel to a brother officer. "Why, in one cruise he must have made not far short of ten thousand pounds as his own share of prize-money. A capital haul for the admiral. Those naval men have better chances than we have of filling their purses."

If Pearce had received attentions when only a young lieutenant, he was doubly courted now that he was a commander, with an established name for gallantry and energy. Alice Verner no longer hesitated acknowledging to herself that she had given him her entire heart. She felt honoured by his preference, and proud of it among so many others who seemed anxious to obtain it. Halifax was always a lively place. There were a great number of resident families with young people, and dances were therefore much in vogue. Consequently naval officers were always welcome, lieutenants and passed midshipmen were acceptable, but young commanders were treated with especial favour. A more experienced man than Pearce might have had his head turned with the attentions he received. While, however, he was grateful for them, he enjoyed to the full the society in which he found himself, and became neither conceited nor vain. He had also the opportunity of comparing Alice Verner with other girls, and he became more than ever convinced of her superiority to them all. His stay at Halifax was likely to be short. He naturally wished to spend as much of his time as possible in her society. She invariably received him so frankly and cordially that all restraint was thrown aside. He felt almost sure that she loved him; so he took her hand and told her how much he loved her, and that he believed he had made enough prize-money already to enable her to live as she had been accustomed to; that he hoped to make more, and that, he had good reason to believe he should before long be a post-captain, when he should be her father's equal in rank. Alice was not very much surprised nor agitated, because she was before sure that he loved her. Still it was very pleasant to hear him say so. Pearce also felt supremely happy, and did not for a moment contemplate the clouds and storms which might be ahead. Alice herself might possibly have seen difficulties which he did not. She loved her father, but she knew that he was a proud man and weak on certain points, and that few men thought more of family and connections. It had always surprised her that he had not inquired more particularly about Pearce's parentage, but she concluded that he was acquainted with the circumstances of the case, and was satisfied. It was, at all events, her duty to tell her father that Captain Ripley had declared himself. Pearce was to dine with them that day. In the meantime he had to go on board. He returned some time before the dinner hour. Colonel Verner had not come in, so that Alice had not had an opportunity of speaking to her father. Pearce told her that a frigate had arrived that morning direct from England. Everybody was eager to hear the news she brought. Probably that kept the colonel from home. While seated together, and interested more in themselves than in the world at large, the door was suddenly opened, and Lieutenant Harry Verner was announced.

"Why, Cousin Harry, where have you dropped from?" said Alice, rising to welcome him, "I did not even know that you were a lieutenant. You have grown up out of a little midshipman since I saw you last."

"I've dropped from His Britannic Majesty's Frigate `Hecate,' of which I have the honour of being third lieutenant," announced the young man. "And as for changes, though you are lovely as ever, I shall not know soon whether I am standing on my head or my feet;" he looked fixedly at Pearce as he spoke.

"I beg your pardon, Captain Ripley," said Alice, recovering herself from the slight confusion into which she had been thrown; "I should have introduced my cousin to you."

"Harry Verner and I are old shipmates I suspect, unless there are two of the name very much like each other," said Pearce, rising and putting out his hand.

"Yes, as midshipmen we were together, I believe," answered Harry, superciliously; "but really it is difficult to remember all one's old shipmates."

Pearce under some circumstances would have been inclined to laugh at Harry Verner's impudence, but it was very evident that the lieutenant wished to pick a quarrel with him, which was by all means to be avoided. Alice had thought her cousin a tiresome boy; he now appeared to have grown more disagreeable than before. Colonel Verner came in and welcomed his nephew, who was the only son of his elder brother; other guests arrived, and the conversation became general. Harry at once assumed to be the person of most importance in the house, and though he was laughing and talking with every one, Alice discovered that he was constantly watching her and Captain Ripley whenever they spoke. Captain Ripley had to return on board. He never slept out of his ship if he could avoid it.

"I suppose, colonel, that you can give me a shake down," said Harry; "I have got leave to remain on shore."

Her cousin's remaining prevented Alice from speaking to her father that night. Harry showed no intention of going to bed till Pearce had taken his leave, and Alice had retired. He then, jumping up from the sofa on which he had thrown himself exclaimed, "My dear uncle, where did you pick up that man?"

"Whom do you mean, Harry?" asked the colonel, rather astonished at his nephew's somewhat impertinent manner.

"Why, Captain Ripley, who has just left this," answered the lieutenant. "He seems as much at home with Alice as if he were engaged to her. Indeed, I am half expecting you to tell me that he is."

"Really, Harry, you are speaking too fast," said the colonel; "Captain Ripley is one of the finest officers in the navy, and having rendered the greatest possible service to my daughter and me, I feel bound to treat him with every consideration and kindness."

"Which he repays by aspiring to my cousin's hand," answered Harry. "Were he a man of family I should say nothing, of course; but he is, sir, a mere adventurer. His father is a common boatswain--a warrant officer--not a gentleman even by courtesy, and his mother, for what I know to the contrary, might have been a bum-boat woman, and his relations, if he has any, are probably all of the lowest order."

The colonel walked up and down the room very much annoyed. "Though what you say may be true, Harry, that cannot detract from Captain Ripley's fine qualities nor relieve me of the obligations I owe him," he observed after a time. "Of course, were he to dream of marrying Alice, that would alter the case, and I should be compelled to put a stop to our present friendly intercourse; but I do not believe that such an idea enters his head. He is like you sailors generally, here to-day and gone to-morrow. Probably when he leaves this we may not see him again for years to come."

"Not so sure of that," said Harry; "Ripley was always very determined when he made up his mind to do a thing, and you will pardon me, uncle, but the way in which he was speaking to her when I came into the room was anything but that of an ordinary acquaintance."

"I'll see about it, I'll see about it," exclaimed the colonel, now more than ever annoyed. "It is impossible that a man of such low extraction should aspire to the hand of my daughter. The idea is too absurd!"

Harry Verner retired to rest that night under the comfortable belief that he had revenged himself on the man whom he had always disliked, and now envied, for his rapid promotion and success.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FIVE.

The arrival of the "Hecate" relieved the "Vestal," which was ordered to proceed at once to sea. Poor Alice received Captain Ripley with marks of sorrow in her countenance which alarmed him. "My father will not hear of it," she exclaimed, giving way to a burst of grief; "but I told him, and I promise you, that I will marry no one else."

"I know, I feel, and I am sure you will not, dearest," said Pearce, tenderly gazing at her. "And be of good courage, I trust yet to do deeds and to gain a name to which those who now scorn me for my humble birth may be proud to ally themselves."

Pearce had never before uttered anything like a boast, but his swelling heart assured him of what he could do, and his indignation at the contempt in which his father was held made him speak in a vaunting tone so different to his nature. The moment of parting arrived; Alice, unasked, renewed her promise, and Pearce hurried on board unwilling to encounter any of his ordinary acquaintances in the town. It was well for Harry Verner that he did not fall in with him. Before night the corvette was far away from Halifax. Pearce was not exactly unhappy, but he was in an excellent mood for undertaking any daring act which might present itself. Once more he returned to Jamaica, picking up a few prizes on the way. "Always welcome, Captain Ripley," said the admiral, cordially greeting Pearce when he appeared at the Penn to report himself. "You've done so well in the sloop that we must get you into a smart frigate; you'll not have to wait long for a vacancy, I dare say." This commendation was sufficient to restore Pearce's spirits. He hoped to do something before the corvette had to return home. There are two classes of people who hope to do something--one waits for the opportunity to occur, the other goes in search of it and seldom fails in the search. Pearce Ripley belonged to the latter class. Several more prizes were taken, and a considerable amount of damage done to the commerce of the enemy; but still the "Vestal" had not fallen in with an enemy the conquest of whom would bring glory as well as profit. Week after week passed away. It had been blowing hard. The wind dropped at sunset; the night was very dark and thick, an object could scarcely have been discerned beyond the bowsprit end. The island of Deserade, belonging to France, bore south-east by south, six or seven leagues, when, as day broke and the light increased, a ship was perceived close on the weather-beam, which in a short time was made out to be an enemy's frigate. The breeze had by this time sprung up again and was blowing fresh.

"We may fight her or try to escape," said the captain to Bonham, eyeing the frigate as if he would rather try fighting first.

"I should say that the odds being so greatly against us we ought to try to escape," answered the first lieutenant; "but I speak my own sentiments, and I am sure that of all on board, if fight we must, we will all be ready to stand by you to the last. Victory does not always side with the biggest."