At daylight the next morning we were with a start by the whistles of the boatswain and his mates piping all hands to unmoor. The pilot was on board, and the wind was fair. As the had no anchor down, but was hanging to the moorings in the river, we had nothing to do but to cast off, sheet home, and in less than half-an-hour we were under all sail, stemming the last quarter of the flood tide. Tom and I had remained on the gangway watching the but not assisting, when the ship being fairly under sail, the order was given by the first to coil down the ropes.
“I think, Jacob, we may as well help,” said Tom laying hold of the main , which was passed aft, and hauling it forward.
“With all my heart,” replied I, and I hauled it forward, while he coiled it away.
While we were thus employed the first lieutenant walked forward and recognised us. “That’s what I like, my lads,” said he; “you don’t sulk, I see, and I sha’n’t forget it.”
“I hope you won’t forget that we are , sir, and allow us to go on shore,” replied I.
“I’ve a shocking bad memory in some things,” was his reply, as he continued forward to the forecastle. He did not, however, forget to victual us that day, and insert our names, in pencil, upon the ship’s books; but we were not put into any mess, or stationed.
We anchored in the Downs on the following morning. It came on to blow hard in the afternoon, and there was no communication with the shore, except the signal was made, third day, when it moderated, and the signal was made “Prepare to weigh, and send boat for captain.” In the meantime several boats came off, and one had a postman on board. I had letters from Mr Drummond and Mr Turnbull, telling me that they would immediately apply to the Admiralty for our being , and one from Mary, half of which was for me, and the rest to Tom. Stapleton had taken Tom’s wherry and pulled down to old Tom Beazeley with my clothes, which, with young Tom’s, had been despatched to Deal. Tom had a letter from his mother, half by his father, and the rest from herself; but I shall not trouble the reader with the contents, as he may imagine what was likely to be said upon such an occasion.
Shortly afterwards our clothes, which had been sent to the care of an old shipmate of Tom’s father, were brought on board, and we hardly had received them when the signalman reported that the captain was coming off. There were so many of the men in the frigate who had never seen the captain that no little anxiety was shown by the ship’s company to how far, by the “cut of his jib,” that is, his outward appearance, they might draw conclusions as to what they might expect from one who had such power to make them happy or . I was looking out of the maindeck port with Tom, when the gig pulled alongside, and was about to scrutinise the outward and visible signs of the captain, when I was attracted by the face of a lieutenant sitting by his side, whom I immediately recognised. It was Mr Wilson, the officer who had the and sunk the wherry, from which, as the reader may remember, I rescued my friends, the senior and junior clerk. I was overjoyed at this, as I hoped that he would interest himself in our favour. The pipe of the boatswain re-echoed as the captain the side. He appeared on the quarter-deck—every hat to do him honour; the marines presented arms, and the officer at their head lowered the point of his sword. In return, the personage, taking his cocked hat with two fingers and a thumb, by the highest peak, lifted it one inch off his head, and replaced it, desiring the marine officer to dismiss the guard. I had now an opportunity, as he paced to and fro with the first lieutenant, to examine his appearance. He was a tall, very large-boned, gaunt man, with an enormous breadth of shoulders, displaying Herculean strength (and this we found he possessed). His face was of a size corresponding to his large frame; his features were harsh, his eye piercing, but his nose, although bold, was handsome, and his capacious mouth was furnished with the most splendid row of large teeth that I ever . The character of his was determination rather than severity. When he smiled the expression was agreeable. His gestures and his language were , and the trembled with his elephantine walk.
He had been on board about ten minutes, when he desired the first lieutenant to turn the hands up, and all the men were ordered on the larboard side of the quarter-deck. As soon as they were all gathered together, looking with as much on the captain as a flock of sheep at a strange, -meaning dog, he thus addressed them—“My lads, as it so happens that we are all to trust to the same planks, it may be just as well that we should understand one another. I like to see my officers to their duty, and behave themselves as gentlemen. I like to see my men well disciplined, active, and sober. What I like I will have—you understand me. Now,” continued he, putting on a stern look—“now, just look in my face, and see if you think you can play with me.” The men looked in his face, and saw that there was no chance of playing with him; and so they expressed by their . The captain appeared satisfied by their mute acknowledgments, and to encourage them, smiled, and showed his white teeth, as he desired the first lieutenant to pipe down.
As soon as the scene was over, I walked up to Mr Wilson, the lieutenant, who was aft, and him. “Perhaps, sir, you do not me; but we met one night when you were sinking in a wherry, and you asked my name.”
“And I recollect it, my lad; it was Faithful, was it not?”
“Yes, sir;” and I then entered into an explanation of our circumstances, and requested his advice and assistance.
He shook his head. “Our captain,” said he, “is a very strange person. He has commanding interest, and will do more in of the rules of the Admiralty than any one in the service. If an Admiralty order came down to discharge you, he would obey it; but as for regulations, he cares very little for them. Besides, we sail in an hour. However, I will speak to him, although I shall probably get a rap on the , as it is the business of the first lieutenant, and not mine.”
“But, sir, if you requested the first lieutenant to speak?”
“If I did, he would not, in all probability; men are too valuable, and the first lieutenant knows that the captain would not like to discharge you. He will, therefore, say nothing until it is too late, and then throw all the blame upon himself for forgetting it. Our captain has such interest that his recommendation would give a commander’s rank to-morrow, and we must all take care of ourselves. However, I will try, although I can give you very little hopes.”
Mr Wilson went up to the captain, who was still walking with the first lieutenant, and, his hat, introduced the subject, stating, as an apology, that he was acquainted with me.
“Oh, if the man is an acquaintance of yours, Mr Wilson, we certainly must decide,” replied the captain with mock politeness. “Where is he?” I advanced, and Tom followed me. We stated our case. “I always like to put people out of suspense,” said the captain, “because it unsettles a man—so now hear me; if I happened to press one of the blood-royal, and the king, and the queen, and all the little princesses were to go down on their knees, I’d keep him, without an Admiralty order for his discharge. Now, my lads, do you perceive your chance?” Then turning away to Mr Wilson, he said, “You will oblige me by stating upon what grounds you ventured to in behalf of these men, and I trust your explanation will be satisfactory. Mr ,” continued he, to the first lieutenant, “send these men down below, watch, and station them.”
We went below by the gangway ladder and watched the conference between the captain and Mr Wilson, who, we were afraid, had done himself no good by trying to assist us. But when it was over the captain appeared pleased, and Mr Wilson walked away with a satisfied air. As I afterwards discovered it did me no little good. The hands were piped to dinner, and after dinner we weighed and made sail, and thus were Tom and I fairly, or rather unfairly, in his majesty’s service.
“Well, Tom,” said I, “it’s no use ............