Often have I since thought, what an accursed trade is that of a privateer's-man. Licensed pirates at best; and often, as they perform their work, no better than the worst of pirates.

"What's to be done?" he continued, talking to himself. "I cannot stand the girl's sorrow. We must get the body out of the way, at all events."

He stopped, and shaded his eyes with his hand. He had a family at home.

Among them a daughter--tall and graceful, like that poor girl.

"Williams," he said abruptly, "call the surgeon."

When Blister came, he told him to ascertain if the old man were really dead. He stooped down, and lifting the flag, examined the body.

"Yes," he answered, in a perfectly satisfied tone. "I said he would die. There's no doubt about it." I believe he would have been vexed had he recovered to contradict him.

"We must bury him, then," said the captain. "We'll do it decently. He was a fine old man, and fought like a lion. Send the sailmaker here."

The surgeon did as he was bid.

"Don't let him touch the poor girl, Jack," he said. "She is better as she is. She would never let us remove her father's body, if she were conscious of what was going forward."

The sailmaker came, and received orders to get a hammock with a shot at the feet, in which to enclose the old soldier's corpse. Among the prisoners was a French priest. The captain sent for him; and he and a few officers who had escaped a.s.sembled on deck, the captain having explained to them that he wished to pay the last respect to a brave enemy. They, as Frenchmen know how to do, expressed themselves gratified at the compliment; and all stood around while the body was brought from below. Having been shown to them, it was secured in the hammock which had been prepared for the purpose. It was then placed on a plank at an open port, with the old soldier's hat and sword. The priest offered up some of the prayers of his Church, and all stood with hats off in reverential awe.

The prayers were finished--the captain had lifted his hand, as a signal to launch the body into the deep, when at that moment the tall, graceful figure of a lady appeared on deck. She cast one wild, hurried, inquiring glance around. Her eye fell on the shrouded corpse as it glided into the deep. With a piercing shriek, which rung far over the waters, she cried, "Father, I follow you!" and before anyone could prevent her, she sprung over the schooner's low bulwarks into the blue sea, within the first circles formed by her parent's form, as it vanished from our sight. In an instant all present rushed to the side; the boats were lowered rapidly; but as we looked around, no sign did there appear of the unhappy young lady. Such was the result of our night's exploit! "It is better, perhaps, that it was so," said the captain, dashing a tear from his eye.

I cannot say that the catastrophe made any lasting impression even on him. It did not on me. That very night we stood again up to the convoy, and were successful in picking out another of them without being discovered. Both vessels reached Guernsey in safety, and turned out valuable prizes.

I cannot pretend to give even an outline of all the adventures I met with while serving on board the privateer. From her fast-sailing qualities, and the daring and talent of her commander, she was very successful. We were constantly on the look-out for single merchantmen; and, unless they were strongly armed, they were nearly certain to become our prey. We never attacked an armed vessel if we could help it, and never fought if we could escape an enemy capable of injuring us. Now and then, when we thought that we were going to make prize of a rich merchantman, we found that we had caught a Tartar, and had to up stick and run for it. Twice we were very nearly caught; and should have been, had not night come to our aid, and enabled us to haul our wind without being seen, and thus get out of our pursuer's way.

Once, flight was impossible, and we found ourselves brought to action in the chops of the Channel by a French sloop-of-war of eighteen guns.

Captain Savage, however, gave evidence of his skill and courage by the way he handled the schooner against so superior a force. By making several rapid tacks, we got the weather-gauge of our opponent; and then, after the exchange of several broadsides, we stood across his bows, when we delivered so well-directed a raking-fire that we brought his topmast down by the run. We had not escaped without the loss of several men, besides getting an ugly wound in our mainmast; so, to avoid any further disaster, and being perfectly content with the glory of having crippled an opponent of force so superior, we hauled our wind and stood up Channel. The Frenchman was afterwards fallen in with, and captured by a corvette of her own size.

I have, I think, sufficiently described the occupation of a privateer.

What I might have become, under the instruction of my old friend Peter, and the strict discipline of a man-of-war, I know not. On board the privateer, with the constant influence of bad example, I was becoming worse and worse, and more the slave of all the evil ways of the world.

After serving on board the schooner for more than three years, I was paid off with my pocket full of prize-money, and, shipping on board a trader, I found my way to Liverpool.

That port then, as now, afforded every facility to a seaman to get rid of his hard-earned gains. In a few weeks I had but a few shillings left. I had not the satisfaction of feeling that I had done any good with it. How it all went I don't know. I believe that I was robbed of a large portion. I was so disgusted with my folly, that I was ready to engage in any enterprise, of however questionable a character, where I had the prospect of gaining more, which I resolved I would spend more discreetly.

Liverpool at that time fitted out a number of slavers--the slave-trade, which was afterwards prohibited, being then lawful, and having many respectable people engaged in it. Hearing from a shipmate that the _Royal Oak_, a ship of eighteen guns, with a letter-of-marque commission, was fitting out for the coast of Africa, and was in want of hands, I went and entered on board her. She carried, all told, eighty hands. I found two or three old shipmates aboard her, but no one whom I could call a friend.

We reached the coast without any adventure, and in those days the slaves who had come down from the interior being collected in depots, ready for shipment, we soon got our cargo on board. For several years I remained in this trade, sometimes carrying our cargo of hapless beings to Rio de Janeiro or other parts of the Brazils, and sometimes to the West Indies.

It never occurred to me that there was anything wrong in the system.

All the lessons I had received in the West Indies, in my early days, were thrown away. The pay was good; the work not hard, though pretty frequently we lost our people by fever; and so I thought no more about the matter.

At length I found my way back to Liverpool, just as the battle of Waterloo and Napoleon's abdication brought the blessings of peace to Europe.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

WHALING IN THE SOUTH-SEA.

Every sea-port in England was thronged with seamen whom the cessation of war had cast on sh.o.r.e without employment, when as I was strolling along the quays of Liverpool with my hands in my pockets, in rather a disconsolate mood, wondering in what direction my wayward fate would carry me, I ran bolt up against a post near which a gentleman was standing, and somehow or other managed to tumble over him.

"Beg pardon, sir," said I, looking up in his face; "I did not see you."

"No harm done, my man; but stop," said he, as I was moving on; "I think I remember that voice and face. Jack Williams, I am certain?"

"Yes, that's certain," said I, looking at him hard. "And I may make bold to guess that you, sir, are Mr Carr."

"You are right in your guess, Jack;--that is to say, I have been Captain Carr for some years past. I am glad to have fallen in with you, for I am fitting out a ship for a long voyage, and I like to have men with me whom I know and can trust."

"Glad to have your good opinion, sir, and without another question I'll ship with you," I answered. "Where are you bound for?"

"A South-Sea whaling-voyage," he answered. "I have been at it for some years now, both as mate and master, and I tell you there's nothing like it for excitement and novelty. There's our craft, Jack; the _Drake_ is her name. Look at her. Not a finer ship for her size sails out of Liverpool--measures five hundred tons, and carries forty hands. You'll like the life, depend on it; and I say, if you fall in with any good men, let me know. I like to have trustworthy men serving with me."

I promised to do as he desired, and then went on board to have a look at the ship. I found her everything I could wish, and felt perfectly satisfied with the arrangement I had made. Having set my mind at ease on that point, I began to consider how I should pa.s.s my time till the _Drake_ was ready to receive her crew on board, for she was still in the hands of the carpenters. I bethought me, then, that I would run across to Dublin, to try and find out my old captain. I found a large smack--a regular pa.s.sage vessel--just sailing, so I went aboard, and in two days we reached that port. On landing I inquired for Captain Helfrich, for I had forgotten where he lived. "There he goes along the quays," answered the person I had addressed; and I saw a gentleman whom, from his figure, I did not doubt was him.

"Captain Helfrich, sir, I beg pardon; but I'm glad to see you looking so well. I'm Jack Williams," I exclaimed, running after him.

"That's my name; but I do not remember you, my man," he answered.

"I served my apprenticeship with you, and you were very kind to me, sir," I replied; but as I spoke I looked more narrowly in his face, and saw a much younger man than I expected to meet.

"Ah! you take me for my father, as others have done," he remarked, laughing. "He has given up the sea long ago, but he will be glad to meet an old shipmate; and now I think of it, I have to thank you for the model of his old craft the _Rainbow_. Come along by all means; I'm going to his house. You'll find him much changed, though."

So I did, indeed, and it made me reflect how many years of my life had pa.s.sed away. I found my old captain seated before the fire in a large arm-chair, with a book and spectacles on a table by his side, and a handkerchief over his knees. His hair was long and white as snow, and his cheeks thin and fallen in about the mouth; but still the hue of health had not altogether fled. He received me kindly and frankly, and seemed much pleased at my coming so far to see him. He desired to hear all about me, and was greatly moved at the account I gave him of the _Rainbow's_ loss. He was sorry to find that all the time I had been at sea I had not improved my condition in the world. I confessed that it was owing to my idleness and unwillingness to learn.

"Ah, I have learned many a lesson I did not know in my youth, from this book here, Jack," said he, pointing to the book by his side, which was the Bible. "I now know in whom to trust; and had I known Him in the days of my youth, how much grief and shame I might have avoided!

Mercifully, G.o.d has by His grace taught me to see my own errors; and I have endeavoured to remedy them as far as I have been able, in the way I have brought up my son. I have taught him what I learned from this book: 'Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.'"

I was very much struck by the way my old captain, I may say the once pirate, spoke; and I afterwards learned that he had not failed to instil into his son the better principles he had imbibed. Still I am bound to say that he was an exception to the general rule; for, as far as my experience goes, men who grow careless of their duty to G.o.d and indifferent to religion, continue through life increasing in hardness of heart and conscience, without a thought of the past or a fear for the future--truly, living as if they had no souls to care for, as if there were no G.o.d who rules the world. Dreadful is their end! Therefore I say to all my readers: Never put off for a single hour--for a single minute--repentance and a diligent searching for newness of life. You know not what an hour, what a minute may bring forth. You may be suddenly summoned to die, and there may be no time for repentance.

Among other questions, Captain Helfrich kindly inquired for my old friend Peter Poplar. How ashamed I felt of my own ingrat.i.tude, my heartlessness, when I could not tell him! No one I had met could tell me whether he still survived, or whether he had fallen among the thousands of brave men who had died that England might be free. I promised to make further inquiries before I sailed, and, should I fail to hear of him, to set out on my return from my proposed voyage with the express purpose of discovering him.

That visit to my old captain is one of the few things performed of my own accord on which I can look back with satisfaction. The next day I sailed for Liverpool.

Many strange and curious coincidences have occurred to me during my life. Two days before the _Drake_ was ready for sea, having failed to gain any tidings of Peter, I was standing on the quay--work being over-- in the evening, with my hands in my pockets, just taking a look at my future home, when I observed a boat-load of men landing from a sloop which had lately brought up in the river. By their cut I knew that they were men-of-war's men. Several of them I saw had been wounded, and, judging by their shattered frames, pretty severely handled. One was a tall thin man. The sleeve on his right side hung looped up to a b.u.t.ton, and he leaned over on the opposite side, as if to balance himself. I looked eagerly in his face, for I doubted not I knew his figure. It was Peter Poplar himself! I sprung eagerly forward. Captain Helfrich's appearance had made me feel old, but Peter's weather-beaten countenance and grizzly hair reminded me that my own manhood must be waning. For a moment I do not think he knew me. He had thought me dead--killed by the French fishermen, or murdered in prison. At all events he had heard nothing of me from the moment I was carried off in the fishing-boat.

How kindly and warmly he shook my hand with his remaining one!

"I've lost a flipper, Jack, you see," said he, sticking out his stump.

"I never mind. It was for the sake of Old England; and I have got a pension, and there's Greenwich ready for me when I like to bear up for it. There's still stuff in me, and if I had been wanted, I'd have kept afloat; but as I'm not wanted, I'm going to have a look at some of my kith and kin, on whom I haven't set eyes since the war began. Many of them are gone, I fear. So do you, Jack, come along with me. They will give you a welcome, I know."

I told him how sorry I was that I could not go, as I had entered aboard the whaler; but I spent the evening with him, and all the next day; and he came and had a look at the _Drake_, and Captain Carr was very glad to see him, and told him that he wished he had him even now with him. I cannot say how much this meeting with my old friend again lightened my heart; still I felt ashamed that I should have been in a trader, and away from one who had been more to me than a father, while he was n.o.bly fighting the battles of our country. He had bravely served from ship to ship through the whole of the war. He, however, did not utter a word of blame. He only found fault with himself.

"I told you once, Jack," said he, "that I ought to have been a master, had it not been for my own ignorance, instead of before the mast; and having missed that, had I not continued too idle to learn, I might have got a boatswain's warrant. I tell you this because, though you are no longer a youngster, you have many years before you, I hope, and may still get the learning which books alone can give you, and without which you must ever remain before the mast."

I need not say that he made me promise to find him out on my return. I shall never forget the kindly, fatherly glance the old man gave me as he looked down from the top of the coach which was to take him on his way to the home he had so long left.

The _Drake_, ready for sea, had hauled out into the stream. She might at once have been known as a South-Sea whaler by the height she was out of the water, and by the boats which hung from their davits around her, painted white, light though strongly-built, with their stems and sterns sharp alike, and with a slight curve in their keels--each from about twenty-six to nearly thirty feet in length. Although she had provisions enough on board--casks of beef, and pork, and bread, (meaning biscuit), and flour, and suet, and raisins, and rum, and lime-juice, and other antis...o...b..tics--to last us for nearly four years, they were not sufficient to bring her much down in the water, as she was built to carry many hundred barrels of oil, which we hoped to collect before our return. I may as well here describe the fittings of a whale-boat. In the after-part is an upright rounded post, called the loggerhead, by which to secure the end of the harpoon-line; and in the bows is a groove through which it runs out. It is furnished with two lines, each of which is coiled away in a tub ready for use. It has four harpoons; three or more lances; several small flags, called "whifts," to stick into the dead whale, by which it may be recognised at a distance when it may be necessary to chase another; and two or more "drogues," four-sided pieces of board to be attached to the end of the whale-line when it is hove overboard, and which, being dragged with its surface against the water, impedes the progress of the whale. Besides these things, each boat is supplied with a case in which are stowed several necessary articles, the most important being a lantern and tinder-box--the lantern to be used as a signal when caught out at night--a compa.s.s, and perhaps a small cooking-apparatus. A whale-boat, when going in chase, has a crew of six men: one is called the headsman, the other the boat-steerer.

The headsman has the command of the boat. He is either the captain, or one of his mates, or one of the most experienced hands on board. The _Drake_ was a strongly-built, well-found ship, and as the greater number of the crew were experienced hands, and we had confidence in our captain, we had every prospect of a satisfactory voyage. The crew are not paid wages, but share in proportion to their rank or rating, according to the undertaking. Provisions are, however, supplied them, so that although a man may, as sometimes happens, make very little all the time he is out, he cannot lose. Still, want of success falls very heavily on the married men who have families to support.

The evening before we were to sail, one of the crew fell so sick that it was evident he could not go the voyage; so the captain ordered the second mate with several hands to take him ash.o.r.e. Although not shipped as an able seaman, he was a strong, active young man, and it was necessary to supply his place. While some of the others carried the sick man to the hospital, I remained in the boat at the quay. While I was sitting, just looking up to watch what was taking place on sh.o.r.e, a young man in a seaman's dress came down the slip and hailed me. By the way he walked, and the look of his hands, I saw at a glance that he was not a seaman.