The King's Own

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

  Conquest pursues, where courage leads the way. GARTH.

  The glasses of Captain M---, and the officers who remained on board ofthe frigate, were anxiously pointed towards the boats, which in lessthan half an hour had arrived within gunshot of the privateer. "Thereis a gun from her," cried several of the men at the same moment, as thesmoke boomed along the smooth water. The shot dashed up the spray underthe bows of the boats, and _ricochetting_ over them, disappeared in thewave, about half a mile astern.

  The boats, which, previously, had been pulling in altogether, andwithout any particular order, now separated, and formed a line abreast,so that there was less chance of the shot taking effect than where theywere before, en masse.

  "Very good, Mr Price," observed the captain, who had his eye fixed onthem, through his glass.

  The boats continued their advance towards the enemy, who fired her twolong guns, both of which she had brought over to her starboard side,but, though well directed, the shot did not strike any of herassailants.

  "There's grape, sir," said the master, as the sea was torn and ploughedup with it close to the launch, which, with the other boats, was nowwithin a hundred yards of the privateer.

  "The launch returns her fire," observed Captain M---.

  "And there's blaze away from the pinnace and the barge," cried one ofthe men, who stood on the rattlings of the main rigging. "Hurrah, mylads! keep it up," continued the man, in his feeling of excitement,which, pervading Captain M---, as well as the rest of the crew, receivedno check, though not exactly in accordance with the strict routine ofthe service.

  The combat now became warm; gun after gun from the privateer was rapidlyfired at the boats, who were taking their stations previous to asimultaneous rush to board. The pinnace had pulled away towards the bowof the privateer; the barge had taken up a position on the quarter; thelaunch remained on her beam, firing round and grape from hereighteen-pounder carronade, with a rapidity that almost enabled her toreturn gun for gun to her superiorly-armed antagonist. Both the cutterswere under her stern, keeping up an incessant fire of musketry, withwhich they were now close enough to annoy the enemy.

  "A gun from the rock close to the barge, sir!" reported the signalman.

  "I expected as much," observed Captain M--- to the officers standingnear him.

  "One of the cutters has winded, sir; she's stretching out for theshore," cried the master.

  "Bravo--that's decided--and without waiting for orders. Who commandsthat boat?" inquired Captain M---.

  "It's the first cutter--Mr Stewart, sir."

  The cutter was on shore before the gun could be reloaded and fired asecond time. The crew, with the officer at their head, were seen toclamber up the rock! In a minute they returned, and jumping into theboat, pulled off to give their aid to the capture of the vessel.

  "He has spiked the gun, I am certain," observed Captain M---.

  Before the cutter could regain her station, the other boats, weresummoned by the bugle in the launch, and, with loud cheering, pulled uptogether to the attack. The booms, which had been rigged out to preventthem from coming alongside, already shot through by the grape from thelaunch, offered but little resistance to the impetus with which theboats were forced against them; they either broke in two, or sank underwater.

  "There's _board_--Hurrah!" cried all the men who remained in the_Aspasia_, cheering those who heard them not.

  But I must transport the reader to the scene of slaughter; for if heremains on board of the _Aspasia_, he will distinguish nothing but fireand smoke. Don't be afraid, ladies, if I take you on board of theschooner--"these our actors are all air, thin air," raised by the magicpen for your amusement. Come, then, fearlessly, with me, and view thescene of mortal strife. The launch has boarded on the starboardgangway, and it is against her that the crew of the privateer havedirected their main efforts.

  The boarding nettings cannot be divided, and the men are thrown backwounded or dead, into the boat. The crew of the pinnace are attemptingthe bows with indifferent success. Some have already fallen a sacrificeto their valour--none have yet succeeded in gaining a footing on deck,while the marines are resisting, with their bayonets, the thrusts of theboarding pikes which are protruded through the ports. Courtenay has notyet boarded in the barge, for, on pulling up on the quarter, heperceived that, on the larboard side of the vessel, the boardingnettings had either been neglected to be properly triced up, or had beencut away by the fire from the boats. He has pushed alongside, to takeadvantage of the opening, and the two cutters have followed him. Theyboard with little resistance--the enemy are too busy repelling theattacks on the other side--and as his men pour upon the privateer'sdeck, the crews of the launch and pinnace, tired with their vainendeavours to divide the nettings, and rendered desperate by their loss,have run up the fore and main rigging above the nettings, and thrownthemselves down, cutlass in hand into the _melee_ below, careless of thepoints of the weapons which may meet them in their descent. Now is thestruggle for life or death!

  Courtenay, who was daring as man could be, but not of a very athleticframe, reclimbed from the main chains of the vessel, into which he hadalready once fallen, from one of his own seamen having inadvertentlymade use of his shoulder as a step to assist his own ascent. He wasovertaken by Robinson, the coxswain of the cutter, who sprang up withall the ardour and activity of an English sailor who "meant mischief,"and, pleased with the energy of his officer (forgetting, at the moment,the respect due to his rank), called out to him, by the _sobriquet_ withwhich he had been christened by the men,--"Bravo, _Little Bilious_!that's your sort!"

  "What's that, sir?" cried Courtenay, making a spring, so as to stand onthe plane-sheer of the vessel at the same moment with the coxswain, andseizing him by the collar,--"I say, Robinson, what do you mean bycalling me `_Little Bilious_?'" continued the lieutenant, whollyregardless of the situation they were placed in. The coxswain looked athim with surprise, and at the same moment parried off with his cutlass athrust of a pike at Courtenay, which, in all probability, wouldotherwise have prevented his asking any more questions; then, withoutmaking any answer, sprang down on the deck into the midst of the affray.

  "You, Robinson, come back," cried Courtenay, after him--"Damnedannoying--_Little Bilious_, indeed!" continued he, as, following theexample of the coxswain, he proceeded to vent his bile, for the present,on the heads of the Frenchmen.

  In most instances of boarding, but more especially in boarding smallvessels, there is not much opportunity for what is termed hand-to-handfighting. It is a rush for the deck; breast to breast, thigh to thigh,foot to foot, man wedged against man, so pressed on by those behind,that there is little possibility of using your cutlass, except bydriving your antagonist's teeth down his throat with the hilt. Gun-shotwounds, of course, take place throughout the whole of the combat, butthose from the sabre and the cutlass are generally given and receivedbefore the close, or after the resistance of one party has yielded tothe pertinacity and courage of the other. The crews of the barge andcutters having gained possession of the deck in the rear of the enemy,the affair was decided much sooner than it otherwise would have been,for the French fought with desperation, and were commanded by a mostgallant and enterprising captain. In three minutes, the crew of theprivateer were either beaten below, or forced overboard, and the colourshauled down from the mast-heads announced to Captain M--- and the restof the _Aspasia's_ crew, the welcome intelligence that the privateer wasin the possession of their gallant shipmates. The hatches were secured,and the panting Englishmen, for a few minutes, desisted from theirexertions, that they might recover their breath; after which Price gavedirections for the cables and hawser to be cut, and the boats to goahead, and tow the vessel out.

  "They are firing musketry from the shore; they've just hit one of ourmen," said the coxswain of the pinnace.

  "Then cast off, and bring your gun to bear astern. If you do not hitthem, at least they will not be so s
teady in their aim. As soon as weare out of musket-shot, pull out to us."

  The order was executed, whilst the other boats towed the privateertowards the frigate. In a few minutes they were out of musket-shot; thepinnace returned, and they had leisure to examine into the loss whichthey had sustained in the conflict.

  The launch had suffered most; nine of her crew were either killed orwounded. Three seamen and four marines had suffered in the other boats.Twenty-seven of the privateer's men were stretched on the decks, eitherdead or unable to rise. Those who had not been severely hurt hadescaped below with the rest of the crew.

  Price was standing at the wheel, his sabre not yet sheathed, withCourtenay at his side, when his inveterate habit returned, and hecommenced--

  "`I do remember, when the fight was done--'"

  "So do I, and devilish glad that it's over," cried Jerry, coming forwardfrom the taffrail with a cutlass in hand, which although he could wield,he could certainly not have done much execution with.

  "Why, how came you here, Mr Jerry?" inquired Courtenay.

  "Oh! Stewart brought me in his boat, with the hopes of getting rid ofme; but I shall live to plague him yet."

  "You are not hurt, Seymour, I hope?" said Price to our hero, who nowjoined the party, and whose clothes were stained with blood.

  "No," replied Seymour, smiling. "It's not my blood--it's Stewart's. Ihave been binding up his head; he has a very deep cut on the forehead,and a musket-ball in his neck; but I think neither of the wounds is ofmuch consequence."

  "Where is he?"

  "In the cutter. I desired them to put the wounded man in her, out ofthe launch, and to pull on board at once. Was not I right?"

  "Yes, most assuredly. I should have thought of it myself."

  "Well, Jerry," said Seymour, laughing, "how many did you--"

  "I did not count them; but if you meet with any chaps with deeper woundsthan usual, put them down to me. Do you know, Mr Price, you are moreindebted to me than you may imagine for the success of this affair?"

  "How, Mr Jerry? I should like to know, that I may prove my gratitude;`eleven out of the thirteen' you paid, I've no doubt."

  "It was not altogether that--I frightened them more than I hurt them;for when they would have returned the blows from this stalwart arm,"said Jerry, holding out the member in question, which was about thethickness of a large carrot, "I immediately turned edgeways to them, andwas invisible. They thought that they had to deal with either a ghostor a magician, and, depend upon it, it unnerved them--"

  "`Approach thou like,'--what is it?" resumed Price, "something--`Hence,horrible shadow, unreal mockery, hence!'"

  "Pretty names to be called in reward of my services," cried Jerry. "Ipresume this is a specimen of the gratitude you were talking about.Well, after all, to take a leaf out of your book, Mr Price, I considerthat the better part of valour is discretion. Now, that fellow,Stewart, he actually gave them his head to play with, and I am not sorrythat he has had it broken--for I calculate that I shall be saved atleast a dozen thrashings by some of his hot blood being let out--`theKing's poor cousin!'"

  "By the bye, I quite forgot--where's Robinson, the coxswain of thecutter?" demanded Courtenay.

  "Between the guns forward seriously hurt, poor fellow, I am afraid,"answered Seymour.

  "I'm very sorry for that--I'll go and see him--I wish to speak withhim," replied Courtenay, walking forward.

  Robinson was lying near the long brass gun, which was pointed out of theforemost port, his head pillowed upon the body of the French captain,who had fallen by his hand, just before he had received his mortalwound. A musket-ball had entered his groin, and divided the iliacartery; he was bleeding to death--nothing could save him. The coldperspiration on his forehead, and the glassy appearance of his eye, tooplainly indicated that he had but a few minutes to live. Courtenay,shocked at the condition of the poor fellow, who was not only the mosthumorous, but one of the ablest seamen in the ship, knelt down on oneknee beside him, and took his hand.

  "How do you feel, Robinson? are you in much pain?"

  "None at all, sir, thank ye," replied the man, faintly; "but the pursermay chalk me down D.D. as soon as he pleases. I suppose he'll cheatgovernment out of our day's grub though," continued the man, with asmile.

  Courtenay, aware of the truth of the first observation, thought it nokindness to attempt to deceive a dying man with hopes of recovery in hislast moments; he therefore continued--"Can I be of any service to you,Robinson? Is there any thing I can do when you are gone?"

  "Nothing at all, sir. I've neither chick nor child, nor relation, thatI know of. Yes, there is one thing, sir, but it's on the bloody side;the key of the mess chest is in my trousers' pocket--I wish you'drecollect to have it taken out and given to John Williams; you must waittill I'm dead, for I can't turn myself just now."

  "It shall be attended to," replied Courtenay.

  "And, Mr Courtenay, remember me to the captain."

  "Is there any thing else?" continued Courtenay, who perceived that theman was sinking rapidly.

  "Nothing--nothing, sir," replied Robinson, very, faintly. "Good-bye,God bless you, sir; I'm going fast now."

  "But Robinson," said Courtenay, in a low soothing voice, bending nearerto him, "tell me, my good fellow--I am not the least angry--tell me, whydid you call me _Little Bilious_?"

  The man turned his eyes up to him, and a smile played upon his features,as if he was pleased with the idea of disappointing the curiosity of hisofficer. He made no answer--his head fell back, and in a few seconds hehad breathed his last.

  "Poor fellow--he is gone!" said Courtenay, with a deep sigh, as he roseup from the body. "Never answered my question, too--Well," continuedhe, as he walked slowly aft, "now that's what I consider to be mostexcessively annoying."

  By this time, the privateer had been towed under the stern of thefrigate, and a hawser was sent on board to secure her astern. Price andthe other officers returned on board, where they were well received byCaptain M---, who thanked them for their exertions. The wounded hadbeen some time under the hands of Macallan, and fresh crews having beenordered into the boats, they returned to the privateer. The hatcheswere taken off and the prisoners removed to the frigate.

  The name of the prize was the _Estelle_, of two hundred tons burthen,mounting fourteen guns, and having on board, at the commencement of theattack, her full complement of one hundred and twenty-five men.