Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XXII

  A SPECIAL URGENCY

  Admiral Darling was not in church. His duty to his country kept himup the hill, and in close consultation with Captain Stubbard, who wasburning to fire his battery.

  "I never knew such bad luck in all my life. The devil has been appointedFirst Lord of the weather ever since I came to Springhaven." As Stubbarddeclared these great truths he strode about in his little fortress,delivering a kick at the heels of things which had no right to belumbering there. "To think that I should never have seen those beggars,when but for the fog I could have smashed them right and left. Admiral,these things make a Christian an infidel."

  "Nonsense, sir!" said the Admiral, sternly, for a man of his kindnature; "you forget that without the fog, or rather the mist--for itwas only that--those fellows would never have come within range. We havevery great blessings to be thankful for, though the credit falls not toour battery. The Frenchmen fought wonderfully well, as well as the bestEnglishman could have done, and to capture them both is a miracle ofluck, if indeed we can manage to secure them. My friend, young Honyman,of the Leda, has proved himself just what I said he would be; and hasperformed a very gallant exploit, though I fear he is severely wounded.But we shall know more now, for I see a young fellow jumping up thehill, like a kangaroo, and probably he comes for orders. One thing wehave learned, Stubbard, and must take the hint to-morrow--put a hut onthe Haven head, and keep a watchman there. Why, bless my heart, it isBlyth Scudamore that's coming! There is nobody else that can skip likethat."

  The young lieutenant entered between two guns--the gunners weredismissed in great disgust to dinner--with his pleasant face still alittle grimed with gunpowder, and flushed by his hurry up the steephill-side.

  "This for you, sir," he said, saluting the Admiral, presenting hisletter, and then drawing back; "and I am to wait your convenience forreply."

  "What next will the service come to," asked the Admiral of CaptainStubbard, "when a young man just commissioned gives himself such mightyairs? Shake hands, Blyth, and promise you will come and dine with us,unless you are ordered to return on board at once. How is your goodcaptain? I knew him when he wore Nankins. Jem Prater brought word thathe was wounded. I hope it is not serious."

  "No, sir; not much to speak of. He has only lost three fingers. That waswhy I wrote this letter--or report, I ought to call it, if anybody elsehad written it. Oh, sir! I cannot bear to think of it! I was fifth luffwhen the fight began, and now there is only one left above me, and he isin command of our biggest prize, the Ville d'Anvers. But, Admiral, hereyou will find it all, as I wrote it, from the lips, when they tied upthe fingers, of Captain Honyman."

  "How could you tie them up when they were gone?" Captain Stubbardenquired, with a sneer at such a youth. He had got on very slowly in hisearly days, and could not bear to see a young man with such vacanciesbefore him. "Why, you are the luckiest lad I ever saw! Sure to go up atleast three steps. How well you must have kept out of it! And how happyyou must feel, Lieutenant Scudamore!"

  "I am not at all happy at losing dear friends," the young man answered,gently, as he turned away and patted the breech of a gun, upon whichthere was a little rust next day; "that feeling comes later in life, Isuppose."

  The Admiral was not attending to them now, but absorbed in thebrief account of the conflict, begun by Captain Honyman in his ownhandwriting, and finished by his voice, but not his pen. Any onedesirous to read this may do so in the proper place. For the presentpurpose it is enough to say that the modesty of the language wasscarcely surpassed by the brilliancy of the exploit. And if anythingwere needed to commend the writer to the deepest good will of thereader, it was found in the fact that this enterprise sprang from warmzeal for the commerce of Springhaven. The Leda had been ordered onFriday last to protect the peaceful little fishing fleet from a craftydesign for their capture, and this she had done with good effect, havingjustice on her side, and fortune. The particulars of the combat were notso clear, after the captain's three fingers were gone; but if one madeproper allowance for that, there was not very much to complain of.The Admiral considered it a very good report; and then put on hisspectacles, and thought it still better.

  "Why! why! why!" he said--for without affectation many officers hadcaught the style of His then Gracious Majesty--"What's this? what'sthis? Something on the other side, in a different man's handwriting, andmighty difficult to read, in my opinion. Stubbard, did you ever see sucha scrawl? Make it out for me. You have good eyes, like a hawk, or theman who saw through a milestone. Scudamore, what was his name? Youknow."

  "Three fingers at five pounds apiece per annum as long as he lives!"Captain Stubbard computed on his own: "fifteen pounds a year perhaps forforty years, as you seem to say how young he is; that comes to just 600pounds, and his hand as good as ever"--("I'll be hanged if it is, if hewrote this!" the Admiral interjected)--"and better, I must say, from aselfish point of view, because of only two nails left to clean, andhis other hand increased in value; why, the scale is disgraceful,iniquitous, boobyish, and made without any knowledge of the human frame,and the comparative value of its members. Lieutenant Scudamore, look atme. Here you see me without an ear, damaged in the fore-hatch, and withthe larboard bow stove in--and how much do I get, though so much older?"

  "Well, if you won't help me, Stubbard," said the Admiral, who knewhow long his friend would carry on upon that tack, "I must even getScudamore to read it, though it seems to have been written on purpose toelude him. Blyth, my dear boy, can you explain it?"

  "It was--it was only something, sir"--the lieutenant blushed, andhesitated, and looked away unmanfully--"which I asked Captain Honymanto leave out, because--because it had nothing to do with it. I mean,because it was of no importance, even if he happened to have thatopinion. His hand was tied up so, that I did not like to say too much,and I thought that he would go to sleep, because the doctor had made himdrink a poppy head boiled down with pigtail. But it seems as if he hadgot up after that--for he always will have his own way--while I was goneto put this coat on; and perhaps he wrote that with his left hand, sir.But it is no part of the business."

  "Then we will leave it," said Admiral Darling, "for younger eyes thanmine to read. Nelson wrote better with his left hand than ever he didwith his right, to my thinking, the very first time that he tried it.But we can't expect everybody to do that. There is no sign of any changeof weather, is there, Stubbard? My orders will depend very much uponthat. I must go home and look at the quicksilver before I know what isbest to do. You had better come with me, Scudamore."

  Admiral Darling was quite right in this. Everything depended upon theweather; and although the rough autumn was not come yet, the prime ofthe hopeful year was past. The summer had not been a grand one, suchas we get about once in a decade, but of loose and uncertain character,such as an Englishman has to make the best of. It might be taking up fora golden autumn, ripening corn, and fruit, and tree, or it might breakup into shower and tempest, sodden earth, and weltering sky.

  "Your captain refers to me for orders," said Admiral Darling toScudamore, while they were hastening to the Hall, "as Commander of theCoast Defence, because he has been brought too far inshore, and one ofthe Frenchmen is stranded. The frigate you boarded and carried is theVille d'Anvers, of forty guns. The corvette that took the ground, soluckily for you, when half of your hands were aboard the prize, is theBlonde, teak-built, and only launched last year. We must try to haveher, whatever happens. She won't hurt where she is, unless it comeson to blow. Our sands hold fast without nipping, as you know, like awell-bred sheep-dog, and the White Pig is the toughest of all of them.She may stay there till the equinox, without much mischief, if thepresent light airs continue. But the worst job will be with theprisoners; they are the plague of all these affairs, and we can'timitate Boney by poisoning them. On the whole, it had better not havehappened, perhaps. Though you must not tell Honyman that I said so. Itwas a very gallant action, very skilful, very beautiful; and I hope hewill get
a fine lift for it; and you too, my dear Blyth, for you musthave fought well."

  "But, Admiral, surely you would have been grieved if so many of yourtenants, and their boats as well, had been swept away into a Frenchharbour. What would Springhaven be without its Captain Zebedee?"

  "You are right, Blyth; I forgot that for the moment. There would havebeen weeping and wailing indeed, even in our own household. But theycould not have kept them long, though the loss of their boats would havebeen most terrible. But I cannot make out why the French should havewanted to catch a few harmless fishing-smacks. Aquila non captat muscas,as you taught the boys at Stonnington. And two ships despatched upona paltry job of that sort! Either Captain Honyman was strangelymisinformed, or there is something in the background, entirely beyondour knowledge. Pay attention to this matter, and let me know what youhear of it--as a friend, Blyth, as a friend, I mean. But here we are!You must want feeding. Mrs. Cloam will take care of you, and find allthat is needful for a warrior's cleanup. I must look at the barometer,and consider my despatches. Let us have dinner, Mrs. Cloam, in twentyminutes, if possible. For we stand in real need of it."

  Concerning that there could be no doubt. Glory, as all English officersknow, is no durable stay for the stomach. The urgency of mankindfor victuals may roughly be gauged by the length of the jaw. CaptainStubbard had jaws of tremendous length, and always carried a bag ofcaptain's biscuits, to which he was obliged to have recourse in theheight of the hottest engagement. Scudamore had short jaws, well set up,and powerful, without rapacity. But even these, after twelve hours offasting, demanded something better than gunpowder. He could not helpthinking that his host was regarding the condition of affairs verycalmly, until he remembered that the day was Sunday, when no Briton hasany call to be disturbed by any but sacred insistency. At any rate, hewas under orders now, and those orders were entirely to his liking. Sohe freshened up his cheerful and simple-minded face, put his sailor-knotneckcloth askew, as usual, and with some trepidation went down todinner.

  The young ladies would not have been young women if they had notreceived him warmly. Kind Faith, who loved him as a sister might--forshe had long discovered his good qualities--had tears in her beautifuleyes, as she gave him both hands, and smiled sweetly at his bashfulness.And even the critical Dolly, who looked so sharply at the outsideof everything, allowed her fair hand to stay well in his, and saidsomething which was melody to him. Then Johnny, who was of a warlikecast, and hoped soon to destroy the French nation, shook hands with thispublic benefactor already employed in that great work.

  "I shall scarcely have time for a bit of dinner," said Admiral Darling,as they sat down. "I have sent word to have the Protector launched, andto give little Billy a feed of corn. All you young people may take yourleisure. Youth is the time that commands time and space. But for mypart, if I can only manage this plate of soup, and a slice of that fish,and then one help of mutton, and just an apple-fritter, or some trifleof that sort, I shall be quite as lucky as I can hope to be. Dutyperpetually spoils my dinner, and I must get some clever fellow toinvent a plate that will keep as hot as duty is in these volcanic times.But I never complain; I am so used to it. Eat your dinners, children,and don't think of mine."

  Having scarcely afforded himself an hour, the Admiral, in full uniform,embarked upon little Billy, a gentle-minded pony from the west country,who conducted his own digestion while he consulted that of his rider. Atthe haven they found the Protector ready, a ten-oared galley manned byCaptain Stubbard's men, good samples of Sea-Fencibles. And the Captainhimself was there, to take the tiller, and do any fighting if the chanceshould arise, for he had been disappointed all the morning. The boatwhich brought Scudamore had been recalled by signal from the Leda, andthat active young officer having sought her vainly, and thereby missedthe Protector, followed steadily in Mr. Prater's boat, with the nephew,Jem, pulling the other oar, and Johnny Darling, who raged at the thoughtof being left behind, steering vaguely. And just as they rounded theharbour-head, the long glassy sweep of the palpitating sea bore inwardand homeward the peaceful squadron, so wistfully watched for and sodearly welcome.