The Missing Ship: The Log of the "Ouzel" Galley. William Henry Giles Kingston
have again to thank you for the information and advice you have given me, and I hope you’ll find yourself at home on board this chip. We’re pretty well provisioned, and we’ll not starve you, at all events,” said Captain Tracy.
“Thank you, captain, I have no fear about the matter,” answered the stranger; “and as to my name, I quite forgot to give it. Indeed, you are not likely to have heard of me before, for I have been knocking about in distant seas for most of my life—it is Lancelot Carnegan. I hail from Ireland, as you may suppose; and perhaps you may have already discovered a touch of the brogue—but it has been well-nigh washed out of me; still, though we children of Erin roam the world over, we never entirely get rid of our mother tongue.”
“Bad luck to us if we do,” answered the captain, laughing. “I might have guessed that you came from the old country—and now you’ll have an opportunity, if you wish to remain when we reach harbour, of renewing your acquaintance with it and any friends you may have.”
“There are few, if any, who know me,” answered Mr. Carnegan. “I played truant at an early age, and have seldom since then set foot on my native shore.”
Norah had made no attempt to join in the conversation. The new-comer, now turning towards her, addressed her in a deferential tone, and with a look which clearly showed the admiration he felt. He inquired how she liked the West Indies, and what parts of the islands she had seen, and whether she enjoyed being at sea. They were but commonplace questions, but his manner encouraged her to speak freely, and she described with much graphic power the scenery and places she had visited.
“I delight in the sea,” she added. “I enjoy it in all weathers; and even when a storm has been raging I have felt no fear, for I knew that the good ship is sound, and that those in command were well able to manage her. I should have been ready to accompany my father in as many more voyages as he might wish to make, and it is not I who have persuaded him to quit the sea. I fear, indeed, that he will soon get tired of the quiet life he will lead on shore.”
A complimentary remark was rising to Mr. Carnegan’s lips, but he restrained himself, not quite certain how it might be taken, and merely said, “Captain Tracy will have no cause, I am sure, to regret his choice. Though I love the sea, I confess that I often long to take up my abode in some romantic spot in the old country, with the companionship of one whose happiness I could watch over. In truth, I could gladly spend the remainder of my days far away from war and strife, and out of sight even of the stormy ocean—for, should I catch a glimpse of that, I might at times be tempted to wish myself again bounding over the buoyant wave.”
The speaker perhaps expected to see Norah cast down her eyes as he addressed her; but she looked up with a steady glance, and laughingly answered, “If you think that, you have very little confidence in your own resolution.”
Mr. Carnegan was about to reply, when the captain observed, “Let me advise you, sir, to keep to the sea, unless you have some better calling in view. An idle life on shore won’t suit you, a young man of spirit; and those who try it have to repent of their folly. But you will excuse me when I say that I think you would find as honourable employment in the merchant service as on board a privateer—not but that I am ready to allow that many gallant fellows engage in that sort of work; though, when you look at it in its true light, privateering is but licenced robbery at the best.”
“I cannot say that I so view it,” observed Mr. Carnegan; “while benefiting ourselves and lining our own pockets, we are serving the country. We capture our foes in fair and open fight, while we run the risk of being taken ourselves. However, to prove to you that I don’t despise the merchant service, as you appear to be rather short-handed, I shall be happy to do duty on board as one of your mates, if you will trust me. I don’t ask for wages, but it will be a satisfaction to me to feel that I am working my passage home.”
“I don’t doubt your knowledge of seamanship and navigation, and gladly accept your offer,” answered the captain.
Mr. Carnegan was accordingly duly installed in the office of second mate of the Ouzel Galley.
Chapter Two.
Further discussions about the stranger—Mr. Carnegan shows his admiration of Norah—Approaching Ireland—A confession—A sail in sight—Chased—The enemy gains on the Ouzel Galley—Norah and Gerald sent into the hold—The fight begins—The Ouzel Galley holds out bravely, but is rapidly overtaken—Both mates wounded—The Frenchmen board the Ouzel Galley—Gerald defends Norah—The French captain’s courtesy—The Ouzel Galley in the hands of the Frenchmen—The Coquille goes off in chase—A sleep-loving lieutenant—An idea occurs to Gerald.
The wind continued fair and the weather fine, and the Ouzel Galley made good progress on her voyage. Norah was not free from anxiety with regard to her father, who had sufficiently recovered his strength to come on deck and carry on duty, but she longed to get him safe on shore, where alone she believed he would be restored to his usual health. The new mate showed himself to be a good seaman, and was evidently accustomed to command, as far as the captain could judge by the way in which he trimmed sails and issued his orders to the crew. They obeyed him as seamen always do an officer whom they look upon as a good sailor—not that they were particularly disposed to like him, for he never spoke to any of them except to tell them what to do, and his tone was always that of a person who intended to have his orders carried out. Had he come on board in the ordinary way, they would have taken this as a matter of course; but Pompey had expressed his opinion that there was some mystery about him—he might be a true man, but it was possible that he might be of the character of the well-known Flying Dutchman, and had appeared only for the sake of betraying them. The rest of the crew were well disposed to take up this opinion; indeed, few believed that a mortal man could have survived on the raft in the heavy sea there was running at the time; and Mr. Carnegan was more narrowly watched than he suspected.
“I tell you what, mates,” observed Pompey one evening, when he and two or three of his especial chums were seated together in the forecastle, “you may be sartain sure no good will come of having this stranger aboard. Why de captain make him mate is more than I can tell. De oder night, as he walked the deck shouting out to de hand on de fore-topsail yard-arm, I see a flame of fire come of his mouth, and den I says to myself, ‘I know who you are.’ I tell you only what true, as I am living man.”
“Shure, he was only knocking the ashes out of his pipe,” remarked Dan Connor; “it’s one he brought on board with him, and I’ve seen him smoke it many a time.”
“He may have a pipe, but dat was no pipe he was smoking den,” answered the black.
“I ain’t quite sure but as how Pompey isn’t right,” remarked Tom Stokes, an English seaman. “I’ve heard say that the Flying Dutchman he was speaking of plays all sorts of tricks to get aboard; sometimes he comes alongside in a boat with a bundle of letters, and woe betide the crew who take them on board! Their ship’s doomed, and will be sure to blow up, or be burnt, or go to the bottom, or run on a sunken reef. To my mind, half the ships that are cast away are lost by some such trick as that. Maybe he thinks he’s been found out, and is now trying a new dodge; if I had my will, we’d lay him by the heels some dark night and heave him overboard—it’s the only chance there is of saving the ship.”
Meantime the subject of these remarks would have been very indifferent to them had he heard what was said. He was doing his best to ingratiate himself with the captain and his fair daughter. Whenever Norah was on deck he was sure to be there also, and was always ready to assist her when the sea was running somewhat high and the ship was tumbling about more than usual. She appeared to receive these attentions as a matter of course, and always thanked him courteously. She could not, however, fail to remark that, where-ever he was standing, his eye was directed towards her; and especially, if her father and Owen were below, that he invariably drew near to enter into conversation. It is possible that she