"'Let him be called on deck, and we will see if they acknowledge him as their son,' said Sir Harry. 'There must be many hundred David Campbells in the world, I suspect, so do not raise their hopes too high by letting them know that at all events we know the name on board.'

"'David Campbell! David Campbell!' was pa.s.sed along the decks, and in a minute a fine active young fellow came tumbling up from below.

"A mother's eye was not to be deceived. She knew him in an instant, and toddled off as fast as her legs would carry her, followed by her husband, to meet him. 'He is, he is my ain bairn! There's none like him!' she cried; and not caring a fig for the officers and men standing around,--before even he knew who she was,--she had him clasped in her arms, and was covering his cheeks with kisses, while the old father had got hold of his hand and was tagging away at it just as a man in a hurry does at a bell-rope.

"Now comes the extraordinary part of the story. Campbell had been rather a wildish sort of a chap, and getting into some sc.r.a.pe, had gone on board a tender, at Leith I think it was, and entered the navy. He could not write, and was ashamed to get any one to write for him, so his old father and mother did not know where he was, or whether he was alive or dead.

"At last their hearts grew weary at not hearing tidings of him, and they resolved to set out together to look out for their lost sheep; for you see they were decent people and well to do in the world, so they had money to bear the expense, which was not slight. They had very little information to guide them. All they knew was, that their son had gone on board one of the King's ships. A mother's deep love and a father's affection was the only compa.s.s by which they could steer their course.

That did not fail them. They went from port to port, and visited every ship in harbour, and asked every seaman they met about their son, but nothing could they hear of him. At last, that very morning, a waggon had brought them to Poole, and seeing a ship in the offing, which was no other than the _Royal Charlotte_, they had got a boatman to take them out to us.

"That, now, is what I call a providential circ.u.mstance; indeed, from all I have seen and learned since I came into the world, I am convinced that there is nothing happens in it by chance. The G.o.d of heaven orders all for the best in kindness to us. Sometimes, it is true, things do not occur exactly as we could wish, but that does not alter the rule; for if we could but see the end, we should discover that the very thing of which we most complain was in reality most for our good. Remember that, nephew, whenever you get into danger or difficulty; be sure that you do your duty, and all will come right at last. But I have not told you the end of my story.

"The Poole boatman was sent on sh.o.r.e, and the traps of the old couple were handed up on board. Like canny Scotch people, they had not let their property remain out of their sight, but had brought it with them.

It was delightful to see their pleasure when Sir Harry invited them to go on to Weymouth, and to live on board as long as the ship remained there; and he gave orders to have a screen put up for their accommodation. That, too, was just like him. There is not another man in the service more considerate or kind to all below him. All, too, who know him love him; and his Majesty, I believe, trusts him more, and loves him more, than he does all his courtiers put together.

"Never have I seen a pair of old folks look more happy, as their son went about showing them round the ship, and when all the officers and crew spoke kindly to them as they pa.s.sed.

"The king, too, when he came on board and heard the story, was very much interested, and sent for them to have a talk with them. They did not know who he was, but when they came out of the cabin they said that he was one of the kindest old gentlemen they had ever seen; that he had had a long crack with them all about bonnie Scotland and Scotch people; and that he had asked them a heap of questions about their adventures.

"You should have seen their look of surprise when they heard that it was his gracious Majesty himself. [Note. Admiral Sir Harry Burrard Neale was a great-uncle of the author, and the account is given as it was narrated to him many years ago.] They wanted to go back to fall down on their knees, and to ask his pardon for talking so freely with him, and it was not till we a.s.sured them that the king talked just in the same way with any of the crew, that we could quiet them and make them believe that all was right.

"At last, having a.s.sured themselves that their son was well and happy, they returned with contented hearts to Scotland, and many has been the long yarn they have spun, I doubt not, about King George and all the wonders they have seen on their travels."

Every one was very much interested in my uncle's story. A young man who was present, a friend of mine, belonging to a revenue cutter, observed, "We were talking of smugglers just now. There is no end to the dodges they are up to.

"Not long ago, soon after I joined the _Lively_, it had come on to blow pretty fresh, and we had had a dirty night of it, when just as morning broke we made out a cutter standing in for the land to the eastward of Weymouth, and about two miles from us. The wind was from the north-west, and it had kicked up a nasty sea, running pretty high, as it well knows how to do in that part of the Channel.

"Our old mate, Mr Futlock, had the morning watch. It was never his brightest time, for though he did not actually get tipsy, the reaction following the four or five pretty stiff gla.s.ses of grog which he drank at night, generally at this time took place. I was in his watch.

"'Youngster,' said he to me, 'hand me the gla.s.s, and let us see if we can make out what that fellow is.'

"I brought him the gla.s.s, which was kept hung up in beckets within the companion-hatch. I had got my sea-legs aboard pretty well, but I confess that I felt very queer that morning in certain regions, ranging from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and I doubt not looked very yellow in the cheeks, with every instant an irresistible drawing down of the mouth, and that worst of signs, a most unyoungsterlike disinclination to eat.

"Mr Futlock took the gla.s.s, and with his lack-l.u.s.tre eye had a long look at the cutter, which was bobbing away into the seas, while she kept her course on a wind as if in no manner of a hurry.

"'She is honest, I believe,' he observed, with a wise nod. 'Probably a Poole or Exmouth trader; but we must overhaul her notwithstanding.

Shake a reef out of the mainsail, my lads.'

"This was quickly done, and the sail hoisted up. 'Now, keep her away a couple of points more, and we shall about fetch her.'

"Our mate's orders being executed, away we went tearing through the foaming, hissing water, now looking, in the morning's pale light, of a dark, melancholy hue. The stranger continued on as steady as before.

"'Oh, there's no use in the world giving ourselves the trouble of boarding her,' muttered Mr Futlock; and he was just going to order the cutter to be kept on a wind, when we saw the stranger haul up his foresail, and let fly his jib sheets, evidently intending to wait our coming.

"'What cutter is that?' shouted old Futlock.

"'The _Polly_ of London, bound for Weymouth,' answered a man, who stood at the taffrail, through a speaking-trumpet. 'We hove-to, sir, that we might tell you we have just run over a large number of tubs away there to the southward.'

"'Thank you, thank you,' shouted Mr Futlock in return, as we ran by and were soon out of speaking distance. 'I knew that fellow was honest,' he observed to me, rubbing his hands at the thought of making some prize-money. 'Come, rouse aft the main-sheet. We must haul up a little again. Can any one see the tubs?'

"There were plenty of busy eyes looking out for the prize, and it was not long before we discovered them on the weather bow. By keeping our luff we were quickly up to them.

"The commander was by this time called, and now came a difficulty. With the heavy sea there was running, it was a work not free from danger to lower a boat. We first shortened sail; the helm was put down, and the cutter hove-to, and then, after several attempts by waiting for a lull, we got the boat with a crew safe in water.

"Mr Futlock jumped into the boat, and pulled towards the tubs which were first seen, we meantime keeping a bright look-out for any more which might be floating near.

"Not being accustomed to this sort of work, I felt not a little alarmed for the safety of my shipmates, as I saw the boat tumbling about among the white-crested waves.

"Mr Futlock soon got hold of ten tubs, lashed together, and hauled them into the boat. A little further on he made a prize of ten more. This was no bad beginning. He was returning with them, having in vain searched for others, when we made out another collection just ahead of the cutter. We soon had them all aboard, though the boat was nearly swamped alongside. We hoisted her in at last, and seeing no more tubs, let draw the foresail, and again stood on. When at last we looked about for our communicative friend, he was not visible; but some of the men said they thought they had seen him standing in for the land.

"We cruised about all the morning in the neighbourhood, but not a tub more could we discover. Three days after that we dropped our anchor in Weymouth roads. The commander went on sh.o.r.e to communicate with the officer of the coast-guard on the station.

"'We were looking out for a cutter with a large cargo the other day, but somehow or other we managed to miss her, and she managed to land every tub. We understand that there has not been such a run for years,'

observed the coast-guard officer.

"Something made our commander fancy that she might have been the very craft we spoke, and which had been so ready with information.

"'A cutter of about fifty tons, with her bulwarks painted yellow inside?' he asked.

"'The very same,' answered the lieutenant. 'That cunning rascal, d.i.c.k Johnstone, was on board of her himself. Hearing that we were on the look-out for his craft, the _Seagull_, he shifted his cargo into her.'

"'Then we were cleverly done!' exclaimed our commander, stamping his foot with vexation. 'The very fellow old Futlock thought looked so honest that he would not take the trouble to board him. It is the very last time in my life that I will trust to outside appearances.'

"All hands of us aboard the cutter felt very foolish when we found that we had lost so good a chance of taking one of the richest prizes we were ever likely to fall in with. However, revenue officers must have all their seven senses wide awake to compa.s.s the artful dodges of determined smugglers. After that, we took very good care to be smart about boarding every vessel we fell in with."

After the conclusion of this yarn we had several other accounts of smugglers and their daring deeds. Some even, it was a.s.serted, had ventured to defend themselves against king's ships, and had fought severe actions, one or two having gone down with their colours flying rather than surrender. On one point all were agreed, that no smugglers had ever become permanently wealthy men. As my uncle observed, they take a great deal of trouble and undergo great risk to obtain a very uncertain advantage.

All the rest of the guests were gone; old Jerry remained behind. We told him what had occurred in the morning, and I asked him if he could find out anything about Charley Iffley; what was his rank, and to what ship he belonged. I begged him, if he could find him, to take a message to him from me, and to a.s.sure him that far from bearing him any ill-will, I would gladly welcome him as an old friend.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

OLD JERRY'S REPORT OF IFFLEY--FEARS OF THE PRESSGANG--RESOLVE TO GO INLAND--COMMENCE OUR JOURNEY--SEIZED BY MEN-OF-WAR'S MEN--IFFLEY'S TREACHERY--FIND MYSELF ABOARD A MAN-OF-WAR BOUND FOR INDIA--IFFLEY'S CONDUCT--A GALE--FALL OVERBOARD--SAVED--PUNISHMENT ABOARD--ACCUSED OF STEALING--SENTENCED TO BE FLOGGED--IFFLEY'S TRIUMPH.

Several days pa.s.sed by, and I heard nothing of Iffley. The fears of my dear wife in consequence at length subsided, and she began to see that, after all, she had probably thought worse of my old shipmate than he deserved. We agreed that he must have been somewhat astonished at seeing me alive, and the husband of one whom he had hoped to marry himself, and that chiefly through bashfulness he had not been able to bring himself to come up and address us.

"Bashfulness!" said Aunt Bretta, when she heard this remark; "I cannot say that I should ever have given Charles Iffley the credit for a superabundance of that quality. However, strange things happen. He may have picked it up at sea, or among his a.s.sociates on sh.o.r.e; but I doubt it."

So did I, on reflection. Still, I was glad by any means to calm my wife's apprehensions, which were the more painful because they were so very indefinite. In the evening there was a knock at the door, and old Jerry Vincent walked in.

"Sarvant, ladies; sarvant all," said he, pulling off his hat to Aunt Bretta and my wife, who handed him a chair.

"Have you heard anything of that young man we told you of?" asked my wife. It was evidently the question she was most anxious to put.

"Yes, I have, marm, and not much good either," was the answer. "I've found out that he is aboard the _Royal William_; she's the flagship just now at Spithead. He doesn't often come ash.o.r.e, and that made me so long hearing of him."

"What is he on board? Is he an officer?" asked Aunt Bretta.