University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.

The lieutenant of the watch on board
the Bexley was slowly walking up and
down on the starboard side of the quarter-deck,
with a small spy-glass in his
hand, which he occasionally placed at
his eye and scanned the town and the
dark shores adjacent, and the bay below.
He would then resume his walk,
whiling away the hour by humming the
national air of “Rule Brittania,” in an
under key. On the larboard side of the
deck walked a midshipman and the purser,
at a rapid exercising pace, and talking
about familiar and dearly-remembered
scenes in old England. The
quarter-master, with his long telescope
beneath his arm was in the waist level
ing his glass at two or three fishermen's
boats, as he made them out to be, that
were putting off to return across the bay
whence they had come in the morning,
laden with fish for the market.

There was a knot of two or three
young officers gathered about the grey-headed
purser, who was seated astride
the gun next to the entering port, entertaining
them with his adventures in foreign
lands, for the purser was a famous
hand at shooting the long-bow. In the
waist, walked in parties of three or four,
several of the non-commissioned officers
and their mates, with one or two forward
old seamen; and these were discussing
the chances which the schooner
was likely to have in overhauling the
brig that she had gone down the bay
after, and gravely questioning whether,
if she was seized by her, the officers and
crew of the Bexley would be likely to
got a share of the prize money. Upon
this subject there was a division, about
an equal number giving it as their opinion
that the sloop would share equally,
as the Gaspee had gone under Captain
Petty's orders; while the other half were
very sure that all would go to the Gaspee's
crew.

Farther forward the watch were assembled
in knots about the windlass and
bitts, some listening to long yarns told
in the good old-fashioned man-of-war-fashion;
others singing interminable sea-songs
to a lack-a-daisical tune, and others
lay at length upon the deck in quiet
repose, or paced the fore-castle with
folded arms, and short pipes in their
mouths. One or two were engaged in
winding and greasing and putting in order
one another's pig-tails, for at that
period all tars wore queus. Just forward
of the larboard entering-port, half
a dozen marines in undress uniform
were engaged in cleaning their muskets

and whitening their belts by the light of
a small iron lamp with oakum for a wick.

The ship being at anchor and all the
canvass furled, there was no active duties
to attend to; and thus this state of
quiet and idle pastime reigned throughout
the ship.

It was almost three quarters of an
hour after the departure of the Gaspee
from her moorings, and there was no
expectation that she would be heard
from again that night. Nevertheless,
Captain Petty had given very particular
orders before going into his cabin that
the closest watch must be kept on the
entrance to the harbor from the bay below,
lest the brig, or some other merchant
vessel might slip in unobserved.

With giving the command, Sir William
Petty left the deck, and exchanging
his uniform coat for a dressing gown,
he east himself upon a settee, and commenced
reading for the tenth time his
last London paper, which was dated
three months back.

He had been occupied about ten minutes
in trying to get through a speech of
a noble Lord against the colonies, recommending
a standing army to keep
them in submission, and had just got to
dozing over it, in a state of half wakefulness,
when he was startled by the
report of the first gun fired by the schooner
at the Free-Trader. His cabin windows
being open to the cool breeze, and
this blowing from the south, the sound
was borne with startling distinctness to
his ears, although the schooner was
more than four miles distant. He sprung
to his feet in surprise, for he well knew,
except what his own ship and the Gaspee
had, there was no ordnance in that
quarter of the colony. The same warlike
sound had reached the ears of officers
and men on deck, and caused no
little excitement and remark.

“A gun, which, from the sound, a
twelve pounder, has been heard from
down the bay, sir,” reported the officer
of the deck, opening the cabin door, as
Sir William was putting on his coat;
for he never appeared on deck except
in uniform.

“I heard it. How far distant was it,
think you, Mr. Welford?”

“I should think about four or five
miles, sir. It was a gun, the size of
those carried from the Gaspee!”

“It is possible she has fallen in with
the brig, or met another, and finding
her restive, has fired a shot over her to
bring her to.”

“That is what I think, sir.”

Sir William had no sooner come out
of his cabin and ascended to the poopdeck,
than he silently took his glass and
examined the bay below. While thus
occupied, a second gun was heard, and
the flash distinctly seen shining up the
sky, and showing between the black
outline of the irregular shores that hid
the schooner itself.

“This is very strange, indeed. That
is the Gaspee's firing, I think. But
she can't have met with an opponent!”
said Captain Petty.

“No doubt the vessel he is trying to
bring to has taken the alarm, and is
running away again to sea,” observed
the lieutenant.

“It is likely, or otherwise I could
not account for two guns. But I trust
Arling will be discreet, and not take
any rash steps.”

“There goes a rocket, sir!” exclaimed
three or four of the officers, as the
curving line of the ascending missile
flashed upon their vision; while the
next instant the whole horizon was lighted
up with the brilliant glare of its explosion,
which, however, did not reach
their ears.

“Arling is in chace of some vessel,
without question,” said Sir William.—
“Go aloft with the glass, quarter-master,
and see if you can look over the
shoulder of land, and can discover any
thing below to report!”

“I can discover nothing, Sir William,”
answered the old seaman. “The land
looms up too much.”

“I was afraid it would. If I have
another gun, I shall send a boat down,
Mr. Welford. Have the second cutter
ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Quarter-master, report if you see
any thing; and keep a sharp lookout
for the flash of another gun or rocket.
Send two good men, sharp-sighted lads,
aft here, to keep lookout along the water.
Mr. Welford, have your watch on the
alert; for you may yet discover something;
for whatever Arling is firing at,
is more likely, with this port-wind, to
be running up for the town, than standing
off. So keep a constant and sharp
lookout.”

“It shall be done, sir,” answered the
lieutenant, quite as earnest in the desire
to ascertain the cause and end of the
firing he had heard, as Sir William
himself; indeed, the excitement extended
throughout the ship, every man on
board partaking of it.

Martin Manwaring, the young seaman
whom we left in chains, bound to
one of the forward guns, had also heard
the firing. It had roused him from a
sweet reverie, in which his spirit was
wandering over the scenes of the past,
over the flowering days of his boyhood.
He had been thinking how often he had
rambled in the wild freedom of a child,
along the rocky shores and green fields,
which deepening twilight shut from his
view.

But in darkness and solitude as he
sat there, memory brought them back
with the fresh beauty of his youthful
years. It painted before him his mother's
cottage, a rural and picturesque
abode, overgrown with woodbine and
wild-rose, and the home of happiness and
love. It showed to him his mother, all
affection and tenderness, a fond mother
and wise friend. He remembered how
beautiful she was, and how her dark
eyes beamed upon him like stars full of
Heaven. He remembered her voice,
so musical and rich; and sweet as it
was in song, sweeter far it was when
addressed to himself. All this passed
before his mind's eye, as he sat there
between the dark cannon, in chains and
alone; and tears, at the recollection,
filled his eyes.

Memory still held the rein of his
thoughts, and held them to the past and
to his home; but it now brought the
time down to later years, when the boy
had become a youth, generous and impulsive,
loving his mother above all
earthly beings and fearing God, hating
a lie with scorn, and strong in the integrity
of truth and honesty. His
thoughts were thus employed when
suddenly the report of the Gaspee's
gun fell upon his ears, and roused him
to a sense of the present. At the same
moment the young officer, Althorp,
came up to him and said in an under
tone:

“How fares it now, Martin? Have
you used the key?”

“I have unlocked my fetters, sir,
and am free;” he answered with grateful
emotion. “You are very kind to
me, Mr. Althorp, especially when you
run such risks!”

“I have resolved to aid you in escaping.
The time is more than I supposed,
for this firing below, I see, has
set the ship's company occupied in
wondering about it!”

“What is it, sir?”

“I can't tell; but it is no doubt the
Gaspee firing to bring some vessel to.
You must take advantage of the general
excitement on the deck to make your
escape; for at eight o'clock I cannot
tell how it may be; I may be ordered
off in the boat! for there is a second
gun! It is possible that the Bexley
may drop down the Bay to see what
this firing is! for I hear Sir William
Petty's voice on deck. This is your
best time, Manwaring!”

“I do not need any urging, sir, to
secure my liberty! My heart bounds
at the idea of being free! of once more
beholding my mother!”

“I trust you may find her alive and
well, Martin!”

“I pray heaven so, sir! It would be
a hard blow to find it—it—was otherwise!
It would be—” Here he
stopped with emotion.

“Never mind! You will, no doubt,
soon see her. Let us wait a few moments
till the men that are passing
along deck are put to something. Then
you must lower yourself out of the port
here, and trust to your skill in swiming!
Here is a line which I have
brought for you to fasten to the gun
carriage!” As the midshipman spoke,
he drew a coil of strong cord from beneath
his watch-coat, and cast it at the
captive's feet. There was still a good
deal of moving past the place where they
stood, but in the darkness Althorp was
unseen. The crew were grouping in
various quarters of the ship, talking
about the firing; and three or four men
were nearer the place where the young
sailor was confined than Althorp wished.

“You must be patient; I will go
and send these men to some other
place,” he said. “And when you see
them move, fasten your line, and dron
through the port. You had best, when
you reach the water, to swim along close
under the counter, and when you get
into the eddy stream, dive and swim
beneath the surface as far as your
breath will let you, so that the lieutenant
of the watch nor the quarter-master
may see you. Instead of making directly
for the land I would strike down
the river some distance till there was
no danger of being seen from the ship.”

“Yes, sir! I will do as you propose.
There, the men have moved away!
Shall I go now?”

“Yes, God bless you, Manwaring!”
said the midshipman, grasping his hand.
“I will go to the quarter-deck, and if
you are seen, try to turn aside suspicion.
Wait till I am there, and then
watch your opportunity and slip out of
the port into the water! Success to
you; and if you get safe ashore be
careful to keep out of the way until the
sloop has quit the port; for if you are
retaken, you will fare badly!”

“I do not love my chains well enough,
sir, to wish to return to them; but I
shall carry away with me one of the
irons upon my wrist, for in endeavouring
to unlock it the key broke, and I succeeded
in parting the chain; but the
manacle remains; and after I get on
shore I shall present it as a memorial of
British oppression! Good bye, Mr.
Althorp! I hope we shall meet again
under happier circumstances!”

“I trust so,” answered the midshipman;
and then leaving him, he hastened
to place himself upon the quarterdeck,
and near the lieutenant of the
watch, speaking to each officer as he
passed, that he might be seen by them
to be aft when the captive should effect
his escape.