CHAPTER SEVEN.
In another minute the young boy would have been put out of the world byhis savage countrymen, when a loud cry was heard, and a woman was seenrushing towards the spot. A red cloak was over her shoulders; her longdark hair streamed in the wind.
"Who is it you are going to kill? Hold, hold, you savages!" sheexclaimed in native Irish. "Why, that is my own boy, the son of mybosom. What harm could one so young and innocent as he is have done toyou? Which of you will dare to take the widow's only child from her?Which of you will dare to commit a crime at which the most cruel ofsavages would hesitate? Dark curses will rest upon your bodies here,and on your souls for ever, if you dare to do so foul a deed. Would anyof you wish to bring down the bereaved widow's maledictions on yourheads? Let the boy go; he would never wish to harm one of you; atrue-hearted Irish lad." She rushed forward, no one venturing to stopher. Like a tigress she flew at the man who held the rope in his hand,and cast it off the neck of her son. "Now let him go," she exclaimed,throwing out her arm; "I defy you all. Would any one dare to touchhim?" With frantic gesture she released his arms which had been boundbehind him. "Now let the minister's pony return to its home; he is fartoo good a beast to serve any one of you. Come with me, Dermot," sheexclaimed, as the boy threw himself from the animal and stood by herside. Shielding her son with her cloak, she led him forward, stretchingout her arm as if to drive back any who might venture to stop them, andunmolested they took their way towards their home.
The same men who appeared thus abashed and confounded in the presence ofa weak woman, now, at the order of O'Higgins, began with all theferocity of wild beasts, to assault the castle. Again and again theyfired their field-pieces with no apparent effect. The men with muskets,however, kept up a hot fire against every part of the building wherethey thought a bullet might enter. The besieged, however, did not replyto their fire. Not a single person in the castle was to be seen; allapertures were closed, and the shot fell harmlessly against the stonewalls.
This determined silence somewhat disconcerted the rebels, who hadexpected resistance, and hoped to find some point which they might moreeasily assail. At length one of their leaders, with more militarygenius than the rest, proposed bringing the guns down to the front gate.In vain, however, the shots were fired against it; the gates were ofiron backed by wood, and the shots made no impression on them. It wasthen determined to assault the castle by attempting to scale the walls,and the men eagerly set to work to form ladders out of the neighbouringwoods. This, however, occupied some time, for although there wereplenty of workmen, they had few tools or nails, and after two hours'labour, scarcely two dozen ill-constructed ladders had been formed.With these, however, a band of daring men might possibly gain thebattlements.
The object of the assailants was suspected by those within; theyprepared accordingly to repel the attack whenever it might be made.
It appeared to the leader of the rebels that by assaulting the southside of the castle they were most likely to prove successful. Thitheraccordingly he led the main body of his men, while another partycontinued to assail the front gate, and the remainder, concealed amongthe walls and rough ground outside the castle, kept up a hot fire on thebattlements. At length the assailants, jumping down into the ditch,placed their ladders against the walls. Up they began to climb withloud shouts and imprecations on the heads of its defenders.
Unless this last attack should be met by a very determined resistance,there appeared every probability of their succeeding, for could theyonce gain a lodgment on the walls, they might easily drive the smallnumber of opponents who were likely to be within before them. Adetermined band at last led the way, and reached the summit of thewalls. They were there met, however, by a party of the defenders of thecastle, led by the Earl himself. Unaccustomed to the use of swords, theassailants were ill-able to defend themselves, as they attempted to stepupon the parapet, while the fire which their friends kept up from theopposite side of the bank, killed several of them, though the bulletsfailed to strike the defenders; they were therefore quickly hurled downagain, and the leading men, falling, struck the others who wereattempting to ascend, when all were precipitated into the ditchtogether, the ladders being dislodged, and thrown down upon the woundedand struggling mass. They had, however, too nearly succeeded to abandontheir project. They retreated with their ladders, which were soonrepaired, when with others in the meantime constructed, a still largerforce attempted to scale the walls.
Had we followed the widow and her son, Dermot would have been heardexpressing his satisfaction at seeing the white sails of the frigate,which had so lately quitted the harbour, once more approaching theshore, aided by a strong breeze from the north, which still continued toblow. The insurgents were fortunately too much occupied in their attackon the castle to notice her; she was, however, seen by its defenders,and this greatly encouraged them in their resistance. Again the rebelsbegan to climb up their ladders,--this time fully believing they weresure of success. Already a large number were near the summitthreatening vengeance on the heads of all who opposed them, when theresuddenly arose a cry in their rear, of "the red-coats! the red-coats."
"Ay, and the blue-jackets too!" shouted out a loud voice.
"On lads, and drive the rascals into the sea." At this moment a strongparty of blue-jackets, headed by Captain Falkner, was seen dartingforward, while a body of marines followed with fixed bayonets ready tocharge. The rebels did not stop to encounter them. Those who were onthe ladders leaped hastily down, crushing many below them, and thenattempted to seek safety in flight. The marines and blue-jacketsadvanced in double quick-time, clearing all before them. Very few ofthe rebels offered resistance, and those who did were immediately cutdown. Many were taken prisoners, O'Higgins among them, and the restthrowing down their arms, headed by the rest of their chiefs, fled asfast as their legs could carry them into the country. They were pursuedfor some distance, when, unwilling to destroy more of the misguided men,Captain Falkner ordered the pursuit to cease, and returned with hisfollowers to the castle. He was received with warm thanks by the Earl.It was extraordinary that not a single person had been hurt within thewalls of the castle, though the Earl acknowledged had the rebels oncesucceeded in gaining the battlements, he could scarcely, with his smallgarrison, have hoped to defend it against the numbers which would haveassailed them. Captain Falkner told him that after he had left the bay,a fishing-boat came alongside with only one man in her, who gave him theinformation of the proposed rising. Although he did not believe thatthe castle would be attacked, he had in consequence been induced toreturn as quickly as possible to an anchorage in the bay, and he wasthankful that he had not come back too late. Part of the marinesremained on shore to strengthen the garrison of the castle, and strongparties were sent out in all directions, to ascertain what had become ofthe rest of the rebels. A considerable number of the misguided men werecaptured, but most of their leaders, as is often the case under similarcircumstances, managed to effect their escape. The state of the countrymade it dangerous to send the prisoners overland to Cork, they were,therefore, placed on board the _Cynthia_, to be conveyed there by sea.O'Higgins had contrived to divest himself of part of his dress before hewas captured, and, owing to this circumstance, he escaped beingrecognised as one of the leaders of the rebels. Had Dermot been calledupon to do so, he would, of course, have been able to identify him; but,fortunately for him, no one thought of summoning the fishwife's youngson to give evidence, and he was, therefore, allowed to remain quietlyat home.
O'Higgins took the name of Higson, and asserted that he was a pedlartravelling through the country, producing a licence in confirmation ofhis statement, but had been compelled by the rebels to join them.Several of the other prisoners were found ready to swear to the truth ofthis statement. He, however, was found guilty; but instead of beingcondemned to transportation to Botany Bay, was allowed the privilege ofentering as a seaman on board a man-of-war. He accepted thealternative,
hoping before long to make his escape. He, however, wastoo narrowly watched to succeed in his object; and after being sent onboard a receiving ship, was, curiously enough, transferred to the_Cynthia_, on board which frigate we shall soon again hear of him.
From the information Captain Falkner received he had reason to believethat this first attempt of the insurgents having so completely failed,and so many having been made prisoners, or killed, a further rising inthat part of the country would not be attempted. Still the disturbedstate of the district prevented the ladies from riding about the countryas had been their custom, and the Earl would not allow his young son togo to any distance from the walls, nor even a short way without a strongescort.
Young Fitz Barry consoled himself, therefore, by frequent visits onboard the frigate, where he soon became a great favourite with theofficers. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "I wish my father would let me become amidshipman. I would rather go to sea, than follow any other professionin the world." Those were, perhaps, the most palmy days of England'snavy. It was the time when her greatest heroes were flourishing, andthe profession was looked upon as among the noblest a youth couldfollow. The oftener Fitz Barry visited the frigate, the more anxious hebecame to belong to her. The midshipmen, at first, encouraged himrather as a joke than in earnest; but as they loved the professionthemselves, they were somewhat flattered by finding that the Earl's sonwished to join it also. On going on shore one day, he told his fatherthat he had made up his mind to become a sailor. The Earl at firstlaughed at him, but he had never been in the habit of thwarting his son,and when Fitz Barry assured him that he should pine and perhaps die,unless he was allowed to have his will, the Earl declared that he was avery obstinate boy, but would not throw any objection in his way.Still, as he was not certain that his father was in earnest, he went toNora and Sophy, to get them to assist in pleading his cause. Lady Sophyhaving herself made up her mind to marry a sailor, thought that therewas not a finer profession to be followed, and Nora, who loved FitzBarry with all her heart, could not think of doing otherwise than as hewished. Besides, she confessed that a ship was a very beautiful thing,and that she thought her dear brother must be happy on board, for littledid the young ladies know of the toils and dangers, the hardships andthe sufferings to which sailors are exposed, whatever their rank. Theyhad read to be sure of wrecks, of noble ships sinking or being burned,of men being castaway on desert islands, with little or no food on whichto subsist, of boats long floating on the ocean, till one by one thoseon board had died of starvation or thirst, or from the exposure theywere doomed to endure. To them all was bright and attractive, and FitzBarry, therefore, by dint of importunity, at length prevailed upon hiseasy-going father, to allow him to join Captain Falkner's beautifulfrigate, the _Cynthia_, provided that officer would take him. Thatmatter he had left in the hands of his cousin, Sophy, and he had nodoubt that she would induce the captain to receive him on board. He wasperfectly right in his conjectures, for the captain, as many othercaptains would have been, was very ready to receive an Earl's son amonghis midshipmen. It was necessary for the frigate to remain for someweeks after the late rising, to ascertain that all was quiet before shecould venture to quit the bay.
There was time, therefore, for Barry to be fitted out for sea, and atlength, just before the frigate sailed, he was received on board andrated as a midshipman. He was good-natured and unaffected, wasintelligent and zealous in his new profession, had, moreover, plenty ofmoney, and these qualities soon made him a favourite with most of theofficers on board.
Captain Falkner having landed his prisoners at Cork, and remained theretill their trial was concluded, proceeded on to Plymouth, where theyoung midshipman was to be provided with the remainder of his outfit.The _Cynthia_ was employed for some months as one of the Channel fleet,and during that time had to pay several visits to the coast of Ireland.Captain Falkner did not fail to look into Kilfinnan Bay, and accompaniedby Fitz Barry, to pay a visit to the castle. Great was his satisfactionat finding that the family were still there, as he had thus theopportunity of enjoying the society of Lady Sophy. Alas, they littlethought how long would be the separation they must after this endure.Barry happened to inquire of his sister what had become of the youngfisher-boy who was so nearly hung instead of himself, and he was toldthat he had disappeared from the place, and that no one knew what hadbecome of him. Such indeed was the case. Not long after the attack ofthe rebels on the castle, one evening when the widow expected Dermot toreturn, he did not make his appearance. In vain she waited the livelongnight; no Dermot came back to her. She watched and watched, now shewent to the cottage door and stopped to listen; now she hastened down tothe boat, that, however, was still moored in its accustomed place. Shetook her way up to the downs. In vain she called on Dermot; no answercame to her calls. She returned home to mourn and to wonder what hadbecome of her boy. He would not have left his mother without tellingher. He loved her too well, she was sure of that, and yet who couldhave carried him away? Had the rebels done so? That seemed but toolikely, for they were too often wont to wreak their vengeance on theheads even of those who could do them no further harm. The morning cameand found her still sitting at the open door, waiting for the return ofher boy. The sun rose over the rugged hills and shed his rays down intothe glen, tinging the points of the rocks on either side, and casting abright glow over the ocean; still Dermot did not appear. She determinedto go forth and search for him, but whither should she go? He mighthave gone to the castle, but they surely would not have detained himbeyond the night, and he must soon then come back. She waited all day,but when the night came on he had not appeared. Weary and sad she satdown on the bench by the fireside, and there at length fell asleep. Sheawoke by being conscious that some one was present, and looking up sawby the light of the log which still blazed on the hearth, the figure ofpoor mad Kathleen sitting before her.
"You are sad, widow--you are sad," exclaimed the mad girl; "it iswaiting for your son you are; and do you think that he will ever return?It may be he will, but you will have many weary years to wait untilthen."
"What do you know of my boy?" exclaimed the widow. "Tell me, Kathleen,tell me, girl, has any harm happened to him?"
"No; the harm is that he was weary of home, and has gone far away, so Iunderstand, if my poor brain has not misled me. Here, see, he gave methis, and told me to bring it to you. It will tell you far more than Ican; it speaks words, though I cannot understand them."
"No more can I," cried the widow in a tone of grief. "Oh, that heshould have gone away and left his poor mother; but maybe in these lineshe will have told me why he has gone and when he will come back. StillI do not know that I could have borne the parting from him even had hegone with my consent. But those lines, girl, let me have them; thereare others can read them though I cannot. I wish it were the day, thatI might go forth and find some one to help me."
The widow took the paper which the mad girl gave her; it was a letter ofconsiderable length. As Dermot knew that his mother could not have readit herself, he must have trusted to her finding some person to performthat office for her.
The widow begged Kathleen to rest in her hut that night, hoping that shemight, during the time, gather some more information from her about herson. All she could learn, however, was, that she had met Dermot on theway to the south, some distance beyond the castle, and that he had givenher that letter, which he intended otherwise to have sent by the post.Poor Kathleen then launched out in his praises, and declared that shehad never seen a lord his equal in these parts. The widow's firstimpulse was to go and seek for Father O'Rourke, the person to whom thepeasantry, whenever they had any document to be read, generallyresorted. She remembered, however, his dislike to Dermot and the wordsof anger with which they had parted from each other, and she thereforefelt a repugnance to let him see what her Dermot might have said to her."Then there is the blind lady," she thought to herself; "she cannot seeto read, however. Then there is the sweet young lady who came
here fromthe castle one day, and the little girl, the Earl's daughter, but theyare too grand to care for what a poor boy like Dermot has to say. Iwill go, therefore, to Mr Jamieson, and get him to read the letter. Heis kind and gentle too, and may be he will give me a word of comfortabout my boy. Still I cannot understand why Dermot should have goneaway without saying a word of farewell to his poor old mother."
Kathleen, for a wonder, gladly consented to rest at the widow's cottagetill the next morning. They then together took their way to thevicarage. The widow found Mr Jamieson about to leave the house, yet hekindly stopped to hear what she had to say to him. She presented theletter, and telling him that she had only received it on the previousevening, begged him to read it to her. He at once recognised thehandwriting of his pupil.
"Ah, Widow O'Neill," he exclaimed, "I find by this that your son isaway, and you must be prepared not to see him for some time. I scarcelylike to say that the lad has acted wrongly in what he has done. Hetells you, Mrs O'Neill, how he loves you, that he would die for you,and that his great object is to go into the world, and to make afortune, and come home and support you. He says that he could not bringhimself to go through the pain of wishing you farewell. He would rathergo away without saying a word about it, or letting you know what werehis intentions, for he is sure you would not have prevented him, and hewould do anything to save you and himself from the agony of the partingmoment. I believe him, widow. I am sure that he has a gentle and aloving heart, and that he speaks the truth when he gives that as hisreason for going away without seeing you. Yet it was to save you,rather than himself, for he must have known when he left his home, thathe was gazing his last at you for many a day. Of one thing I amcertain, that his heart will not change, his love will not alter, andthat wherever he goes, you will be the chief person he will always thinkof, and that he will look forward to seeing you again, as the greatestjoy which can be allowed him on earth."
The good minister believed that he spoke the truth, when he thusattempted to comfort the bereaved mother. The widow returned homefeeling more consoled than could have been expected, for the loss ofDermot. Kind Miss O'Reilly continued to pay her frequent visits, andwhile the young ladies remained at the castle, they rode over under anescort several times to see her. They heard with surprise of Dermot'sdeparture, and at first were inclined to think him hard-hearted andungrateful, but so ably did the widow defend her son, that they soonagreed with her it was but natural a boy like Dermot should seek to seemore of the world than he could in that remote part of Ireland.
The _Cynthia_ had been stationed for some months on the Irish coast,when she stood for the last time into the bay, before taking herdeparture.
As Captain Falkner had had an opportunity of letting the Earl know hispurpose, a large party were collected at the castle, to bid him and theyoung hero farewell. Those were the days of profuse Irish hospitality;the gentlemen with their wives and families for many miles around hadassembled.
The morning was spent in all sorts of sports, and the evening inconviviality. Frequently a stag was turned out from a neighbouringthicket, when a long run, sometimes across rivers, up and down hills, bythe borders of lakes, and over the roughest imaginable ground, tookplace. Many falls were the consequence, in spite of the sturdycharacter of the horses, and the admirable riding of the men, but fewwere present who had not seen a companion dislocate his shoulder, andnot unfrequently terminate his career with a broken neck. It was notunusual to see a hundred horses stabled in the castle at a time, some ofthem belonging to the Earl, but a considerable number to his guests, andthe profuse hospitality of those days demanded that all the attendantsshould be well cared for within the walls of the castle. The dinnerhour was somewhat early, that a longer period might be devoted to theafter carousal. The cellars usually contained numerous hogsheads ofclaret, whilst stronger wines and whisky were on hand for those of lessrefined tastes. But the Irish gentleman rather prided himself on thequantity of claret he could imbibe, and yet be able to retire withsteady steps to bed, or if necessary to mount his horse and return homeby cross roads without breaking his neck, or finding himself at sunrisejust waking out of sleep in a dry ditch.
Although the Earl himself did not over indulge in the pleasures of thetable, he had been too long habituated to the custom to discourage it inothers, and thus his legitimate income was inadequate to supply theexpenses of the profuse hospitality he kept up.
The ladies retired early from the table, when the slight restraint theirpresence imposed being removed, the bottle began to circulate even morefreely than before. Songs were sung, toasts were given, and the healthof the young heir of Kilfinnan was drunk with uproarious cheers. "Mayhe be as fine a man as his father, and an honour to the noble professionhe has chosen, though faith! I'd rather he followed it than I myself,"exclaimed a red-nosed squire from the lower end of the table, "May helive to see his grandchildren around him, and may the old castle standas long as the round world endures."
"Sure a finer young sailor never placed foot on the deck of aman-of-war," echoed another landowner of the same stamp. "May he comeback a captain at the least, and take the lead in the field in many ahard day's run." Similar compliments were uttered in succession forsome time. Fitz Barry took them very quietly, indeed he at lengthbecame utterly weary of the proceedings. In truth also, the thoughts ofleaving home and his sweet young sister and his cousin Sophy, whom heloved like one, made him somewhat sad, and little able to enter into theconversation going forward. He did not, however, allow either Sophy orNora to discover how much he felt.
The next morning, farewells over, he went on board the frigate, withoutmuch prospect of returning home for three years or more. As she underall sail stood out of the bay, he cast many a lingering glance at theold castle, and the well-known bold outlines of the shore. At Plymouth,to which port the frigate had been ordered to proceed, several freshhands were entered to make up the complement of her proper crew. Theywere of all descriptions, but Captain Falkner soon discovered that therewas scarcely a seaman among them. Officers in those days, when men werescarce, had to form their crews out of the most heterogeneous materials.He was receiving a report of them from his first lieutenant. "Here isa fellow, sir. He has been sent to us from the tender, and has enteredunder the name Higson, and says he is an Englishman, though he isevidently Irish by his tongue, and the cut of his features and generalappearance from head to foot. He knows little enough of a seaman'sduties, but is a stout, strong fellow, and we may in time lick him intoshape. I am advised to keep an eye on him while we remain in harbour,lest he should take French leave, and forget to return on board."
"We must keep him," answered the captain; "we are bound for the WestIndies, you know, and shall require every man we can lay hold of."
This settled the point--O'Higgins the rebel leader, or rather Higson, ashe called himself, was regularly entered on the books of the _Cynthia_.He, in vain, made several efforts to escape; once he narrowly escaped,being shot in the attempt. He had jumped into a boat at night, and waspulling away from the ship when he was overtaken, and being brought backwas put into irons till the frigate sailed. Had he been in Corkharbour, he would have had little difficulty in effecting his purpose.Hearing, however, that a son of the Earl of Kilfinnan was on board, heconsoled, himself with the reflection that he should have an opportunityof wreaking his vengeance on the head of the midshipman. How the ladhad in any way given him cause of offence, none but a distortedimagination could have supposed. He had certainly attempted for a veryindefinite object of his own to burn down the Earl's residence and tomurder the inhabitants, and because he had been foiled in the attempt,captured and punished, he persuaded himself that he was fully justifiedin desiring to kill or injure the Earl's unoffending son. Such,however, was the style of reasoning in which so-called Irish patriots ofthose days, and, perhaps, in later times, were apt to indulge.
At length, powder and stores having been received on board, and two orthree gun-r
oom officers and several passed midshipmen having joined, the_Cynthia_ made sail, and standing out of the harbour, a course wasshaped for the West Indies, her destined station.
The frigate had been for some time at sea, and during a light wind shefell in with a homeward bound merchantman. These were the days of thepress-gang, and under such circumstances every merchantman was visited,that the seamen on board who had not a protection might be carried offto serve in the Royal Navy. This was a cruel regulation, but, at thesame time, it seemed the only feasible one to our forefathers formanning the king's ships. Often good men were thus picked up, but morefrequently bad and discontented ones. The merchant ship was ordered toheave to, and the second lieutenant, with a boat's crew armed to theteeth, went on board. The whole of the crew were directed to come upondeck. Their names were called over, and three able seamen were foundwho did not possess a protection. They were immediately ordered to goover the side into the boat.
"Are there any others who wish to volunteer on board?" asked thelieutenant. There was some hesitation among them, when two youngstersstepped forward in front of the rest. The master endeavoured to preventthem from speaking; but the lieutenant telling them to say what theywished, they at once begged that they might be allowed to join thefrigate. They were both fine active-looking lads, and seemed cut out tomake first-rate seamen. The lieutenant eyed them with approbation.
"You will do, my lads," he observed. "In a couple of years or less, youwill make active top-men."
The master was very indignant at being thus deprived of part of hiscrew; but he had no remedy, and was obliged to submit.
"A pleasant voyage to you, Captain Dobson," said the lieutenant. "Youwill manage to find your way up Channel without these few men I havetaken from you, and depend upon it they will be better off than theywould have been spending their time at Wapping until all their money wasgone;" a truth which even the master could not deny.
The merchantman sailed on her way, and the boat having returned on boardthe frigate, was hoisted up again, when her sails being trimmed, the_Cynthia_ once more stood on her course. The new-comers soon madethemselves at home with the crew. Those who watched the lads might haveseen an expression of astonishment pass over the countenance of one ofthem when he found himself on board the _Cynthia_. Soon after this theywere brought up before the first lieutenant, to undergo the usualexamination. He soon finished with the men, who had the ordinaryaccount to give of themselves. One of the young lads said he belongedto Dartmouth in England, and that having run away from home he hadjoined the merchantman, from which he had volunteered, and he wasentered by the name of Ned Davis.
"And what is your name, my lad?" he asked, turning to the youngest ofthe two.
"Charles Denham, sir," he answered.
"That is an English name, and you speak with an Irish accent."
"My mother was an Irish woman," answered the lad, with a blush on hisface.
"And who was your father, then?" asked the lieutenant.
"Sir, I came on board to serve his Majesty, and I hope to do sofaithfully," replied the lad, as if he had not heard the question put tohim.
"There is some of the true metal in that boy," observed the firstlieutenant, turning to an officer near him. "I must keep an eye uponhim. He will make a smart seaman in a short time. He is just one afterthe captain's own heart."
The young volunteer did not hear these observations, or they would havegiven him the encouragement of which, he somewhat felt the want. Thelads were told their numbers and the mess to which they would belong.Ned Davis and Charles Denham returned together to the lower deck. Theyfound, after they had been some time below, that the crew were far fromsatisfied with their officers. They discovered that the ringleader wasa certain John Higson, who was ready to find fault with everything thattook place. He was what is generally called at sea, "a king's hardbargain," or in other words, not worth his salt. He was one of thosemen who do a great deal of mischief on board a ship, and are generallyknown by the name of "a sea lawyer." The two lads, however, seemedresolved to do their duty in spite of anything that might occur. Theyhad before, it appeared, heard Captain Falkner spoken of, and knew hehad the character of being a just officer, though somewhat strict. Itsoon appeared, indeed, that he had a very unruly ship's company to dealwith, and one that required a good deal of management to bring intoorder. Had it not been for Higson, and other men like him, this mighteasily have been accomplished; but whatever was done Higson was sure toput a wrong interpretation upon it. Still, the best men foundthemselves well treated, and spoken kindly to by their officers. Bydegrees flogging decreased, though occasionally some were brought up tosuffer that punishment. In those days an officer might order it to beinflicted on any one of the crew, and sometimes this was done for slightoffences. Captain Falkner, however, reserved it for those who seemeddetermined to neglect their duty, or to get drunk, or actdisrespectfully to their officers. Higson was himself too clever everto get punished, though more than once he was the cause of othersbecoming sufferers. At length the West Indies were reached, and thefrigate brought up in Kingston Harbour, Jamaica.
Unfortunately, Captain Falkner was taken ill, and it became necessaryfor him to go and reside on shore. The first lieutenant, though a kindofficer, had not the talent of his superior, and thus the ship once morefell into the condition in which it had previously been. It being foundthat Captain Falkner did not recover, the admiral of the station orderedthe _Cynthia_ to put to sea under the command of the first lieutenant.She cruised for some time in search of an enemy, but none was to befound, and sickness breaking out on board, a good many of the men werelaid up in their hammocks. Meantime, young Lord Fitz Barry had become agreat favourite with his brother officers on board. Indeed, from hisyouth he was somewhat of a pet among them. He was not a little made ofby the first lieutenant and the other officers, not so much because hewas a lord, but because he was a kind-hearted, generous little fellow.He had, however, been imbued by his captain with very strict notions ofduty, and, young as he was, when sent away with a boat's crew he keptthem in as strict order as any of the older midshipmen could have done.On one occasion when sent on shore to bring off wood and water from anuninhabited part of the southern shore of Saint Domingo, some of hisboat's crew insisted on going up into the interior. His orders had beennot to allow them to go out of sight of the boat, and should any personappear from the shore, immediately to shove off and return to the ship.When, however, they were told by Fitz Barry to remain where they were,they laughed at him, and began to move off into the country. Heinstantly drew a pistol from his belt, and hastened after them,threatening to shoot the nearest man if they did not instantly return.Still they persevered, and according to his threat, the young lord firedhis pistol, and hit one of the mutineers in the arm, and immediatelydrawing a second pistol, he threatened to treat another in the same way.This brought the mutineers to reason, and turning round they sulkilyfollowed him towards the boat. Here the wounded man insisted on havinghis revenge, and tried to persuade the rest of the boat's crew to throwthe young lord overboard. The two lads who had come on board from themerchantman had been appointed to the boat, both of them by this timebeing strong enough to pull an oar. They, however, instead of sidingwith the rest of the crew, had remained in the boat, and declared thatif a hand was laid upon Lord Fitz Barry, they would denounce the rest totheir commander.
"And we will heave you youngsters overboard with him," exclaimed themen, enraged at being thus opposed.
"At your peril," answered Charles Denham; "I am not one to be cowed byyour threats. The man who was shot only got his deserts, and it willserve you all right if Lord Fitz Barry reports you when he gets onboard."
This plain speaking still further enraged the rest of the boat's crew.At the same time, unless they had been prepared to kill their youngofficer and the two lads, they had no resource but to submit. They hadpulled off some little distance from the shore when they againthreatened to throw all t
hree overboard, unless they would promise notto report them. This Lord Fitz Barry refused to do.
"No," he said, keeping the other pistol in his hand. "It is for me tocommand you. You disobeyed orders and now must take the consequences."
He reflected that if he returned and let their conduct go unpunished, itmight lead to still more serious disobedience. He, therefore, as soonas he got on board, reported the whole affair to the commanding officer,at the same time taking care to praise the two lads who had so bravelystood by him. The consequence was, that the whole of the boat's crewwere brought to the gangway and severely flogged.
The Heir of Kilfinnan: A Tale of the Shore and Ocean Page 7