第 33 页

"Oh, yes I am; besides, I can lean against the bulwark."

Cyril was placed in the position he wanted, and, leaning his arm on

the bulwark and resting his head on it, was able to see what was

passing.

Suddenly a tremendous explosion was heard a quarter of a mile away.

"The Dutch admiral's ship has blown up," one of the men aloft

shouted, and a loud cheer broke from the crew.

It was true. The Duke of York in the _Royal Charles_, of eighty

guns, and the _Eendracht_, of eighty-four, the flagship of Admiral

Obdam, had met and engaged each other fiercely. For a time the

Dutchmen had the best of it. A single shot killed the Earl of

Falmouth, Lord Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle, three gentlemen Volunteers,

who at the moment were standing close to the Duke, and the _Royal

Charles_ suffered heavily until a shot from one of her guns struck

the Dutchman's magazine, and the _Eendracht_ blew up, only five men

being rescued out of the five hundred that were on board of her.

This accident in no small degree decided the issue of the engagement,

for the Dutch at once fell into confusion. Four of their ships, a few

hundred yards from the _Henrietta_, fell foul of each other, and

while the crews were engaged in trying to separate them an English

fire-ship sailed boldly up and laid herself alongside. A moment later

the flames shot up high, and the boat with the crew of the fire-ship

rowed to the _Henrietta_. The flames instantly spread to the Dutch

men-of-war, and the sailors were seen jumping over in great numbers.

Prince Rupert ordered the boats to be lowered, but only one was found

to be uninjured. This was manned and pushed off at once, and, with

others from British vessels near, rescued a good many of the Dutch

sailors.

Still the fight was raging all round; but a short time afterwards

three other of the finest ships in the Dutch Fleet ran into each

other. Another of the English fire-ships hovering near observed the

opportunity, and was laid alongside, with the same success as her

consort, the three men-of-war being all destroyed.

This took place at some distance from the _Henrietta_, but the

English vessels near them succeeded in saving, in their boats, a

portion of the crews. The Dutch ship _Orange_, of seventy-five guns,

was disabled after a sharp fight with the _Mary_, and was likewise

burnt. Two Dutch vice-admirals were killed, and a panic spread

through the Dutch Fleet. About eight o'clock in the evening between

thirty and forty of their ships made off in a body, and the rest

speedily followed. During the fight and the chase eighteen Dutch

ships were taken, though some of these afterwards escaped, as the

vessels to which they had struck joined the rest in the chase.

Fourteen were sunk, besides those burnt and blown up. Only one

English ship, the _Charity_, had struck, having, at the beginning of

the fight been attacked by three Dutch vessels, and lost the greater

part of her men, and was then compelled to surrender to a Dutch

vessel of considerably greater strength that came up and joined the

others. The English loss was, considering the duration of the fight,

extremely small, amounting to but 250 killed, and 340 wounded. Among

the killed were the Earl of Marlborough, the Earl of Portland, who

was present as a Volunteer, Rear-Admiral Sampson, and Vice-Admiral

Lawson, the latter of whom died after the fight, from his wounds.

The pursuit of the Dutch was continued for some hours, and then

terminated abruptly, owing to a Member of Parliament named Brounker,

who was in the suite of the Duke of York, giving the captain of the

_Royal Charles_ orders, which he falsely stated emanated from the

Duke, for the pursuit to be abandoned. For this he was afterwards

expelled the House of Commons, and was ordered to be impeached, but

after a time the matter was suffered to drop.

As soon as the battle was over Cyril was taken down to a hammock

below. He was just dozing off to sleep when Sydney came to him.

"I am sorry to disturb you, Cyril, but an officer tells me that a man

who is mortally wounded wishes to speak to you; and from his

description I think it is the fellow you call Black Dick. I thought

it right to tell you, but I don't think you are fit to go to see

him."

"I will go," Cyril said, "if you will lend me your arm. I should like

to hear what the poor wretch has to say."

"He lies just below; the hatchway is but a few yards distant."

There had been no attempt to remove Cyril's clothes, and, by the aid

of Lord Oliphant and of a sailor he called to his aid, he made his

way below, and was led through the line of wounded, until a doctor,

turning round, said,--

"This is the man who wishes to see you, Sir Cyril."

Although a line of lanterns hung from the beams, so nearly blind was

he that Cyril could scarce distinguish the man's features.

"I have sent for you," the latter said faintly, "to tell you that if

it hadn't been for your jumping down on to that fire-ship you would

not have lived through this day's fight. I saw that you recognised

me, and knew that, as soon as we went back, you would hand us over to

the constables. So I made up my mind that I would run you through in

the _melee_ if we got hand to hand with the Dutchmen, or would put a

musket-ball into you while the firing was going on. But when I saw

you standing there with the flames round you, giving your life, as it

seemed, to save the ship, I felt that, even if I must be hung for it,

I could not bring myself to hurt so brave a lad; so there is an end

of that business. Robert Ashford was killed by a gun that was knocked

from its carriage, so you have got rid of us both. I thought I should

like to tell you before I went that the brave action you did saved

your life, and that, bad as I am, I had yet heart enough to feel that

I would rather take hanging than kill you."

The last words had been spoken in a scarcely audible whisper. The man

closed his eyes; and the doctor, laying his hand on Cyril's arm,

said,--

"You had better go back to your hammock now, Sir Cyril. He will never

speak again. In a few minutes the end will come."

Cyril spent a restless night. The wind was blowing strongly from the

north, and the crews had hard work to keep the vessels off the shore.

His wounds did not pain him much, but his hands, arms, face, and legs

smarted intolerably, for his clothes had been almost burnt off him,

and, refreshing as the sea-bath had been at the moment, it now added

to the smarting of the wounds.

In the morning Prince Rupert came down to see him.

"It was madness of you to have joined in that _melee_, lad, in the

state in which you were. I take the blame on myself in not ordering

you to remain behind; but when the Dutchmen poured on board I had no

thought of aught but driving them back again. It would have marred

our pleasure in the victory we have won had you fallen, for to you we

all owe our lives and the safety of the ship. No braver deed was

performed yesterday than yours. I fear it will be some time before

you are able to fight by my side again; but, at least, you have done

your share, and more, were the war to last a lifetime."

Cyril was in less pain now, for the doctor had poured oil over his

burns, and had wrapped up his hands in soft bandages.

"It was the thought of a moment, Prince," he said. "I saw the

fire-ship had steerage way on her, and if the helm were put down she

would drive away from our side, so without stopping to think about it

one way or the other, I ran along to the stern, and jumped down to

her tiller."

"Yes, lad, it was but a moment's thought, no doubt, but it is one

thing to think, and another to execute, and none but the bravest

would have ventured that leap on to the fire-ship. By to-morrow

morning we shall be anchored in the river. Would you like to be

placed in the hospital at Sheerness, or to be taken up to London?"

"I would rather go to London, if I may," Cyril said. "I know that I

shall be well nursed at Captain Dave's, and hope, erelong, to be able

to rejoin."

"Not for some time, lad--not for some time. Your burns will doubtless

heal apace, but the wound in your shoulder is serious. The doctor

says that the Dutchman's sword has cleft right through your

shoulder-bone. 'Tis well that it is your left, for it may be that you

will never have its full use again. You are not afraid of the Plague,

are you? for on the day we left town there was a rumour that it had

at last entered the City."

"I am not afraid of it," Cyril said; "and if it should come to

Captain Dowsett's house, I would rather be there, that I may do what

I can to help those who were so kind to me."

"Just as you like, lad. Do not hurry to rejoin. It is not likely

there will be any fighting for some time, for it will be long before

the Dutch are ready to take the sea again after the hammering we have

given them, and all there will be to do will be to blockade their

coast and to pick up their ships from foreign ports as prizes."

The next morning Cyril was placed on board a little yacht, called the

_Fan Fan_, belonging to the Prince, and sailed up the river, the

ship's company mustering at the side and giving him a hearty cheer.

The wind was favourable, and they arrived that afternoon in town.

According to the Prince's instructions, the sailors at once placed

Cyril on a litter that had been brought for the purpose, and carried

him up to Captain Dowsett's.

The City was in a state of agitation. The news of the victory had

arrived but a few hours before, and the church bells were all

ringing, flags were flying, the shops closed, and the people in the

streets. John Wilkes came down in answer to the summons of the bell.

"Hullo!" he said; "whom have we here?"

"Don't you know me, John?" Cyril said.

John gave a start of astonishment.

"By St. Anthony, it is Master Cyril! At least, it is his voice,

though it is little I can see of him, and what I see in no way

resembles him."

"It is Sir Cyril Shenstone," the captain of the _Fan Fan_, who had

come with the party, said sternly, feeling ruffled at the familiarity

with which this rough-looking servitor of a City trader spoke of the

gentleman in his charge. "It is Sir Cyril Shenstone, as brave a

gentleman as ever drew sword, and who, as I hear, saved Prince

Rupert's ship from being burnt by the Dutchmen."

"He knows me," John Wilkes said bluntly, "and he knows no offence is

meant. The Captain and his dame, and Mistress Nellie are all out, Sir

Cyril, but I will look after you till they return. Bring him up,

lads. I am an old sailor myself, and fought the Dutch under Blake and

Monk more than once."

He led the way upstairs into the best of the spare rooms. Here Cyril

was laid on a bed. He thanked the sailors heartily for the care they

had taken of him, and the captain handed a letter to John, saying,--

"The young Lord Oliphant asked me to give this to Captain Dowsett,

but as he is not at home I pray you to give it him when he returns."

As soon as they had gone, John returned to the bed.

"This is terrible, Master Cyril. What have they been doing to you? I

can see but little of your face for those bandages, but your eyes

look mere slits, your flesh is all red and swollen, your eyebrows

have gone, your arms and legs are all swathed up in bandages--Have

you been blown up with gunpowder?--for surely no wound could have so

disfigured you."

"I have not been blown up, John, but I was burnt by the flames of a

Dutch fire-ship that came alongside. It is a matter that a fortnight

will set right, though I doubt not that I am an unpleasant-looking

object at present, and it will be some time before my hair grows

again."

"And you are not hurt otherwise, Master?" John asked anxiously.

"Yes; I am hurt gravely enough, though not so as to imperil my life.

I have a wound on the side of my head, and the same blow, as the

doctor says, cleft through my shoulder-bone."

"I had best go and get a surgeon at once," John said; "though it will

be no easy matter, for all the world is agog in the streets."

"Leave it for the present, John. There is no need whatever for haste.

In that trunk of mine is a bottle of oils for the burns, though most

of the sore places are already beginning to heal over, and the doctor

said that I need not apply it any more, unless I found that they

smarted too much for bearing. As for the other wounds, they are

strapped up and bandaged, and he said that unless they inflamed

badly, they would be best let alone for a time. So sit down quietly,

and let me hear the news."

"The news is bad enough, though the Plague has not yet entered the

City."

"The Prince told me that there was a report, before he came on board

at Lowestoft, that it had done so."

"No, it is not yet come; but people are as frightened as if it was

raging here. For the last fortnight they have been leaving in crowds

from the West End, and many of the citizens are also beginning to

move. They frighten themselves like a parcel of children. The comet

seemed to many a sign of great disaster."

Cyril laughed.

"If it could be seen only in London there might be something in it,

but as it can be seen all over Europe, it is hard to say why it

should augur evil to London especially. It was shining in the sky

three nights ago when we were chasing the Dutch, and they had quite

as good reason for thinking it was a sign of misfortune to them as

have the Londoners."

"That is true enough," John Wilkes agreed; "though, in truth, I like

not to see the' thing in the sky myself. Then people have troubled

their heads greatly because, in Master Lilly's Almanack, and other

books of prediction, a great pestilence is foretold."