For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the Revolution, Brady [acx book reading .TXT] 📗

with the good people of Philadelphia, her commander and officers likewise, many of the latter, like Seymour, being natives of the town; and a constant stream of visitors had inspected her, at all permitted hours. The presence of these visitors, of course including many ladies, coupled with an inherent vanity and love of finery and neatness on the part of the captain,—and, to do him justice, his appreciation of the necessity for order and neatness,—had caused him to maintain his ship in the handsomest possible trim, and he had not scrupled to employ his private fortune to beautify the vessel in many small ways, the details of which would have escaped any eye but that of a seaman, though the general results were apparent.

That general appearance which should always distinguish a trim and well-ordered vessel of war from the clumsy and disorderly trader, was due entirely to his efforts. The crew, as we have seen, had chafed under the unusual restraints of this stern discipline; but they were unable, as, indeed, in the last resort they would have been unwilling, to oppose it. Some of the older men, too, and some of those who had sailed with Jones in his already famous cruises, held out the hope of large prize money, and, what was better with many of them, the chance of a blow at the enemy, if any of her cruisers of anything like equal force appeared,—a chance sure to come about in the frequented waters of the English Channel. The crew of an American man-of-war at that period, at least the native portion of it, always in overwhelming majority, was of much higher class than the general run of seafaring men. Among those in the Ranger were several who had been mates of merchantmen,—Bentley again among the number,—men of some education, and able to serve their country as officers with credit, had the navy been increased as it should have been, and whose subordinate positions only indicated their intense patriotism. The low and degraded element which sometimes is such a source of mischief and disaster in ships' crews, was conspicuous by its absence. The reputation of Captain Jones as a disciplinarian was very well known among sailors generally, and only his reputation as a fighter and a successful prize-taker would have enabled him to assemble the remarkable crew to which he had spoken, and which was to back him up so gallantly in many desperate undertakings and wonderful sea fights, of this and his succeeding phenomenal cruise.

Seymour had rapidly recovered from his wounds under Madam Talbot's careful nursing and ministrations, and when his orders reached him he had been ready, accompanied by Philip Wilton and Bentley, to join his ship at once.

He still carried the blood-stained handkerchief, and many and many a time had laid it, with its initials, "K. W.," embroidered by her own hand, upon his lips. This was not his only treasure, however. In a wallet in the breast pocket of his coat he carried and treasured a letter, only the veriest scrap of paper, with these few lines hastily written upon it.

These by a friendly hand. We are to accompany Lord Dunmore to England next week as prisoners in the ship Radnor. Both well, but very unhappy. I love you.——Katharine.

This note had been brought to him, the day before his departure from Fairview Hall, by one of the slaves from the Wilton place, who had in turn received it from a stranger who had handed it to him with the orders that it be given to Lieutenant Seymour if he were within the neighborhood; if not, it was to be destroyed. There was no address on the outside of the letter, which, indeed, was only a soiled and torn bit of paper, and unsealed. Seymour had hitherto communicated this news to no one, and was hesitating whether or no to tell Talbot, who had that day joined the ship.

Seymour found Talbot and the captain together, when, after giving his name to the negro boy, Joe, who waited in attendance, for Captain Jones was one of the most punctilious of men, he was ushered into the captain's cabin.

"Come in, Seymour," said the captain, genially, laying aside the formal address of the quarter-deck. "Joe, a glass of wine for Mr. Seymour. Has the watch been set?"

"Yes, sir, and Lieutenant Wallingford has the deck."

"Ah, that's well; he knows the channel like a pilot. Sit down, man."

"Thank you, captain. How do you like your first experience on a ship-of-war, Talbot?"

"Very much, indeed," answered the young officer; "and if we shall only succeed in capturing the transport I shall like it much better."

"Well, gentlemen," said Captain Jones, "I will give you a toast. Here 's to a successful cruise, many prizes, good chances at the enemy, and, of course, first of all, the capture of the transport, though that will deprive me of the pleasure of your society. I intend to bear away to the northeast immediately we pass the Capes, and I count upon striking the transport somewhere off Halifax. If we should succeed in capturing her, I am of the opinion, if her cargo proves as valuable as reported, that my best course would be to convoy her to one of our ports, or at least so far upon her way as to insure her safe arrival. The cargo would be too important to be lost or recaptured under any circumstances," he continued meditatively. "Well, I think I would better go on deck for the present. You will excuse me, Mr. Talbot, I am sure. You will both dine with me to-night. Seymour, a word with you," he continued, opening the door and going out, followed by his executive officer.

CHAPTER XIII

A Clever Stratagem

Six days out from the Capes of Delaware Bay, and the Ranger was cruising between Halifax and Boston, about one hundred leagues east of Cape Sable. If there be truth in the maxim that a ship is never fit for action until she has been a week at sea, the Ranger might be considered as ready for any emergency now. The crew had thoroughly learned their stations; they and the officers had become acquainted with each other; the possibilities of the ship in different weather, and on various points of sailing, had been ascertained. The drill at quarters twice daily, and the regular target practice with great guns, and the exercises with small arms, had materially developed the offensive and defensive possibilities of the ship.

The already warm friendship between Seymour and Talbot, now thrown into close association by the necessary confinement of a small ship, had grown into an intimacy, and they held many discussions concerning their absent friends in the long hours of the night watches. Talbot had learned through common rumor before they sailed, that Colonel Wilton would probably be sent to England with Lord Dunmore, whose retirement, under the vigorous policy pursued by the Virginians under the leadership of Patrick Henry, who had been elected governor, was inevitable; and he did not doubt but that Katharine would accompany her father. He had never told Seymour of the plans which had involved the destinies of Katharine and himself, and something had restrained him from mentioning either his hopes or his affection for her, though time and absence had but intensified his passion, until it was the consuming idea of his soul.

This reserve was matched by a similar reticence on the part of Seymour, who had said nothing of the note he had received, and had not communicated the news of his own successful suit to his unsuspecting rival. Seymour had a much clearer apprehension of the situation than Talbot, and, intrenched in Katharine's confession, could endure it without disquiet, magnanimously saying nothing which could disturb his less favored rival. The situation, however, was clearly an impossible one, and that there would be a sudden break in the friendship, when Talbot found out the true state of affairs, he did not doubt. This was a grief to him, for he really liked the young man, and would gladly have spared his friend any pain, if it were possible; however, since there was only one Kate in the world, and she was his, he saw no way out of the difficulty, and could only allow Talbot to drift along blindly in his fool's paradise, until his eyes were opened. Both the young men were favorites with Captain Jones, and he treated them in a very different manner from that he usually assumed to his subordinates, for Jones was a man to be respected and feared rather than loved.

Late in the afternoon, the ship being under all plain sail, on the port tack, heading due west, the voice of the lookout on the mainroyal-yard floated down to the deck in that hail which is always thrilling at sea, and was doubly so in this instance,—

"Sail ho!"

Motioning to the officer of the deck, Jones himself replied in his powerful voice,—

"Where away?"

"Broad off the lee-beam, sir."

"Can you make her out?"

"No, sir, not yet."

"Well, keep your eye lifting, my man, and sing out when you do. Mr. Simpson," he said, turning to the officer of the deck, "let her go off a couple of points."

"Ay, ay, sir. Up with the helm, quartermaster, round in the weather-braces, rise tacks and sheets."

The speed of the ship going free was materially increased at once, and in a few moments the lookout once more hailed the deck,—

"I can make her out now, sir."

"What is it?"

"A ship, sir, ay, and there is another one with her, and a third. I can't tell what she is, sir. The first one looks like a large ship."

"Mr. Wallingford, take the glass and go up the crosstrees and see what you make of them, sir," said the captain.

"Very good, sir," replied the lieutenant, springing into the main rigging and rapidly ascending to the crosstrees, glass in hand.

"Gentlemen, we will have a nearer look at these gentry," continued the captain, glancing back at the officers, who had all come up from below, while the men, equally interested, were crowding on the forecastle, and gazing eagerly in the direction of the reported sails, which were not yet visible from the deck.

"On deck, there."

"Ay, ay, what is it?"

"I can make out five ships, and two brigs, and a schooner, and some other sails just rising, all close hauled on the port tack. I think there are more of them, sir, but I can't say yet. We are rapidly drawing down on them, and shall be able to make them out in a minute. I think it is a convoy or a fleet."

"That will do, Mr. Wallingford; lay down on deck, sir; give the glass to the man on the royal-yard, though, before you come. Who is he?"

"It is me, sir, Jack Thompson."

"Keep a bright lookout then, Thompson, and if yon 's an enemy's fleet or convoy, it means a glass of grog and a guinea for you when your watch is over."

"Thankee, sir," cried the delighted seaman.

"Mr. Wallingford, could you make anything out of the size of the ships?"

"One of them I should say was a large ship, a frigate or ship of the line possibly, the others were too far off."

"It can't be a fleet," replied Captain Jones; "there are not so many of the enemy's ships together in these waters, if we are correctly informed. I suspect it must be a lot of merchantmen and transports, convoyed by two or three men of war. Now is our opportunity, gentlemen," he continued, his eyes sparkling with delight. "They are apparently beating in for Halifax, and probably the Mellish, our transport, will be among them. We will pay them a visit to-night in any event. I would n't let them pass by without a bow or two, if they were a fleet of two deckers!"

Apparently this reckless bravado entirely suited the ship's company, for one of the men who had heard the doughty captain's speech called for three cheers, which were given with a will.

"Ay, that's a fine hearty crew, and full of fight. Call on all hands,
Mr. Simpson."

This was more or less a perfunctory order, since every man from the jack-of-the-dust to the captain was already on deck.

"Mr. Seymour," said Jones to the first lieutenant, who had