As We Sweep Through The Deep

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER XVI.

  JACK AND THE MUTINEERS.

  "Obedience every work combines, Diffuses to each part That ardour which the mind refines, Expands and mends the heart." DIBDIN.

  "It's been a-going on for some little len'th o' time, your honour," saidJones. "Me and my messmates took little heed o't for a time, thinkin' itwere only Scrivings' bombast, 'cause ye see, sir, he's only a blessedmouth of a fellow arter all."

  "Ha!" interrupted M'Hearty, "that fellow is one of your pressed men,isn't he?"

  "Yes," said Jack; "the ringleader of the smugglers, and a bold, badman."

  "That's he to a T," said Jones. "Well, they're all in it, the twenty o'them. I'm no sneak, and I'm no spy, but I thought it was my duty to tellyour honour. They're preaching mutiny, and they're spreading sedition,and--and"--here Jones lost his temper, and forgot himself so far as tobring his fist down on the table with a force that made all the glassesrattle--"I'd hang the blessed lot."

  Jones was thanked, told to keep dark, and, after a stiff glass of thecaptain's rum, retired. This man had done his duty.

  Early next morning, Admiral Sir John was surprised to receive a visitfrom Captain Mackenzie.

  The latter soon opened fire in true sailor fashion.

  "Admiral," he said, "I've come to make an exchange. I want two of yourbest men for two of my very bad hats."

  The admiral laughingly requested an explanation. "For," he added, "youcertainly seem to me to wish the better half of the bargain."

  Jack explained in a very few words. He desired, instead of bringing thewould-be mutineers to trial, to send one or two of them to every ship inthe fleet.

  "'Pon honour," said Jervis, "the plan does you credit. I'd have hangedone or two of them. But this is better--indeed it is. Well, I'll takeyour two blackest hats; and I shan't forget to mention your clevernesswhen I send home a despatch. Come down to breakfast."

  That very day the smugglers were scattered all over the fleet, and peaceonce more reigned in the _Tonneraire_.

  * * * * *

  In a few weeks' time the wounded on board Jack's ship were nearly allwell; and he was not sorry when one day he was sent for by the admiral,and told that he was to proceed to sea. There were many ships, bothSpanish and French, sailing to and fro on the coast carrying despatchesof great importance, because they were intended to enable the enemy tocomplete their plans. These he was to chase, and either capture ordestroy as suited him best.

  Before he left on this cruise, the men and officers of the _Tonneraire_were delighted to receive letters from home. Jack took his little packetwith a beating heart, and, retiring to his cabin, gave orders that hewas not to be disturbed until he should again appear.

  Ah, no one save a sailor knows the real delight experienced in receivingletters from home! And here was one in his father's handwriting. Why,it was dated from Ireland; and that is where the general was stationed,waiting, as he said, to give a true Highland welcome to the French assoon as they should land. It said nothing about the lost estate and thebonnie house that once was their home; but it was bold and hopefulthroughout. The general had heard of all Jack's doings, and was proud ofsuch a son. He concluded with a fatherly blessing, bidding him neverforget he was a Grant Mackenzie.

  Then he opened Flora's letter. Sisterly throughout. She was as happy atTorquay as she could expect to be, but longed--oh so much--to see herdear brother once more. Then she went on to talk of old times, and howhappy they would be when they were all together once again. So itconcluded, without one word about Gerty.

  He laid the letter down with a sigh. A strange sense of loneliness, offorsakenness, took possession of his heart. He thought he had forgottenhis false love. At this moment she seemed dearer to him than ever.

  He next took slowly up from the table a letter in a strange, ill-spelt,scrawly hand, and opened it mechanically. But his face brightened as hebegan to read. I append a portion of it with a few corrections:--

  "MY DEAR LUV,--Which it is me as misses you. Yes, Master Jack, me and missus too, though you promised to marry me when you grew a man, and used to give me such sweet kisses. Oh, I wish I had some now! I know'd as that was only Jack's little joke. Me a servant girl, and you a big, tall, beautiful officer. But, la! the larks as we used to 'ave when putting you to bed. It makes me larf now to think of 'em; and how you wouldn't go to sleep till I lay down beside you and sung you off. Yes, missus misses you, and so do I. And poor old Sir Digby has been laid up with the gout; and poor dear missus says as how she won't marry him for two years yet to come. And old master's content because he says he knows she'll be Lady Digby by-and-by. But missus she do look so sad and peaky sometimes; only when old Mr. Richards comes she just goes wild with joy, and sits on his knee just like old times, and sometimes, poor child, goes to sleep with her head on his shoulder. But here comes missus, only she mustn't see this letter. No more at present, but remains yours till death, with luv and sweet kisses.--MARY."

  Love and sweet kisses, indeed! Jack laughed aloud. Then he read Mary'sletter all over again. Then, will it be believed? he kissed it. Afterthis, can you credit it? he placed it in his bosom. What did Jack mean,I wonder?

  The next letter was a right hearty one, from kind old Mr. Richards.There was a deal of business in it, and a deal that wasn't; but thesentence that pleased Jack best was this: "I'm looking after Gerty. I'msaving her for _you_. Old Keane _may_ sacrifice his daughter to SirDigby, but there will be two moons in the sky that day, and another inthe duck-pond. Keep up your heart, boy. I'm laying the prettiest littletrap for Sir Digby ever you saw. Gee-ho! Cheerily does it."

  Cheerily did do it. All the gloom that poor Flora's kind letter had leftin Jack's heart was banished now, and he had begun to sing.

  He was leaving his room, when he ran foul of Tom Fairlie.

  Tom was singing too, and smiling.

  Jack pulled him right into his cabin and shut the door.

  "What are you all smiles about?" said Jack.

  "Why are you all smiles?" said Tom.

  "Had a letter from Flora?"

  "Heard about Gerty?"

  Then something very funny or very joyous seemed to tickle the pair ofthem at precisely the same moment, and they laughed aloud till all theglasses on the swing-table rang out a jingling chorus.

  "I say, Tom," said Jack at last, "I feel I can fight the French now."

  "Precisely how I feel. Ha! ha! ha!"

  "Well, come and dine with me to-night--all alone." And Tom did.