第 34 页

"It needed no great wisdom for that," Cyril said, "seeing that the

Plague has been for some time busy in foreign parts, and that it was

here, though not so very bad, in the winter, when these books would

have been written."

"Then," John Wilkes went on, "there is a man going through the

streets, night and day. He speaks to no one, but cries out

continually, 'Oh! the great and dreadful God!' This troubles many

men's hearts greatly."

"It is a pity, John, that the poor fellow is not taken and shut up in

some place where madmen are kept. Doubtless, it is some poor coward

whose brain has been turned by fright. People who are frightened by

such a thing as that must be poor-witted creatures indeed."

"That may be, Master Cyril, but methinks it is as they say, one fool

makes many. People get together and bemoan themselves till their

hearts fail them altogether. And yet, methinks they are not

altogether without reason, for if the pestilence is so heavy without

the walls, where the streets are wider and the people less crowded

than here, it may well be that we shall have a terrible time of it in

the City when it once passes the walls."

"That may well be, John, but cowardly fear will not make things any

better. We knew, when we sailed out against the Dutch the other day,

that very many would not see the setting sun, yet I believe there was

not one man throughout the Fleet who behaved like a coward."

"No doubt, Master Cyril; but there is a difference. One can fight

against men, but one cannot fight against the pestilence, and I do

not believe that if the citizens knew that a great Dutch army was

marching on London, and that they would have to withstand a dreadful

siege, they would be moved with fear as they are now."

"That may be so," Cyril agreed. "Now, John, I think that I could

sleep for a bit."

"Do so, Master, and I will go into the kitchen and see what I can do

to make you a basin of broth when you awake; for the girl has gone

out too. She wanted to see what was going on in the streets; and as I

had sooner stay quietly at home I offered to take her place, as the

shop was shut and I had nothing to do. Maybe by the time you wake

again Captain Dave and the others will be back from their cruise."

It was dark when Cyril woke at the sound of the bell. He heard voices

and movements without, and then the door was quietly opened.

"I am awake," he said. "You see I have taken you at your word, and

come back to be patched up."

"You are heartily welcome," Mrs. Dowsett said. "Nellie, bring the

light. Cyril is awake. We were sorry indeed when John told us that

you had come in our absence. It was but a cold welcome for you to

find that we were all out."

"There was nothing I needed, madam. Had there been, John would have

done it for me."

Nellie now appeared at the door with the light, and gave an

exclamation of horror as she approached the bedside.

"It is not so bad as it looks, Nellie," Cyril said. "Not that I know

how it looks, for I have not seen myself in a glass since I left

here; but I can guess that I am an unpleasant object to look at."

Mrs. Dowsett made a sign to Nellie to be silent.

"John told us that you were badly burned and were all wrapped up in

bandages, but we did not expect to find you so changed. However, that

will soon pass off, I hope."

"I expect I shall be all right in another week, save for this wound

in my shoulder. As for that on my head, it is but of slight

consequence. My skull was thick enough to save my brain."

"Well, Master Cyril," Captain Dave said heartily, as he entered the

room with a basin of broth in his hand, and then stopped abruptly.

"Well, Captain Dave, here I am, battered out of all shape, you see,

but not seriously damaged in my timbers. There, you see, though I

have only been a fortnight at sea, I am getting quite nautical."

"That is right, lad--that is right," Captain Dave said, a little

unsteadily. "My dame and Nellie will soon put you into ship-shape

trim again. So you got burnt, I hear, by one of those rascally Dutch

fire-ships? and John tells me that the captain of the sailors who

carried you here said that you had gained mighty credit for

yourself."

"I did my best, as everyone did, Captain Dave. There was not a man on

board the Fleet who did not do his duty, or we should never have

beaten the Dutchmen so soundly."

"You had better not talk any more," Mrs. Dowsett said. "You are in my

charge now, and my first order is that you must keep very quiet, or

else you will be having fever come on. You had best take a little of

this broth now. Nellie will sit with you while I go out to prepare

you a cooling drink."

"I will take a few spoonfuls of the soup since John has taken the

trouble to prepare it for me," Cyril said; "though, indeed, my lips

are so parched and swollen that the cooling drink will be much more

to my taste."

"I think it were best first, dame," the Captain said, "that John and

I should get him comfortably into bed, instead of lying there wrapped

up in the blanket in which they brought him ashore. The broth will be

none the worse for cooling a bit."

"That will be best," his wife agreed. "I will fetch some more

pillows, so that we can prop him up. He can swallow more comfortably

so, and will sleep all the better when he lies down again."

As soon as Cyril was comfortably settled John Wilkes was sent to call

in a doctor, who, after examining him, said that the burns were doing

well, and that he would send in some cooling lotion to be applied to

them frequently. As to the wounds, he said they had been so skilfully

bandaged that it were best to leave them alone, unless great pain set

in.

Another four days, and Cyril's face had so far recovered its usual

condition that the swelling was almost abated, and the bandages could

be removed. The peak of the helmet had sheltered it a good deal, and

it had suffered less than his hands and arms. Captain Dave and John

had sat up with him by turns at night, while the Dame and her

daughter had taken care of him during the day. He had slept a great

deal, and had not been allowed to talk at all. This prohibition was

now removed, as the doctor said that the burns were now all healing

fast, and that he no longer had any fear of fever setting in.

"By the way, Captain," John Wilkes said, that day, at dinner, "I have

just bethought me of this letter, that was given me by the sailor who

brought Cyril here. It is for you, from young Lord Oliphant. It has

clean gone out of my mind till now. I put it in the pocket of my

doublet, and have forgotten it ever since."

"No harm can have come of the delay, John," Captain Dave said. "It

was thoughtful of the lad. He must have been sure that Cyril would

not be in a condition to tell us aught of the battle, and he may have

sent us some details of it, for the Gazette tells us little enough,

beyond the ships taken and the names of gentlemen and officers

killed. Here, Nellie, do you read it. It seems a long epistle, and my

eyes are not as good as they were."

Nellie took the letter and read aloud:--

"'DEAR AND WORTHY SIR,--I did not think when I was so pleasantly

entertained at your house that it would befall me to become your

correspondent, but so it has happened, for, Sir Cyril being sorely

hurt, and in no state to tell you how the matter befell him--if

indeed his modesty would allow him, which I greatly doubt--it is

right that you should know how the business came about, and what

great credit Sir Cyril has gained for himself. In the heat of the

fight, when we were briskly engaged in exchanging broadsides with a

Dutchman of our own size, one of their fire-ships, coming unnoticed

through the smoke, slipped alongside of us, and, the flames breaking

out, would speedily have destroyed us, as indeed they went near

doing. The grapnels were briskly thrown over, but she had already

touched our sides, and the flames were blowing across us when Sir

Cyril, perceiving that she had still some way on her, sprang down on

to her deck and put over the helm. She was then a pillar of flame,

and the decks, which were plentifully besmeared with pitch, were all

in a blaze, save just round the tiller where her captain had stood to

steer her. It was verily a furnace, and it seemed impossible that one

could stand there for only half a minute and live. Everyone on board

was filled with astonishment, and the Prince called out loudly that

he had never seen a braver deed. As the fire-ship drew away from us,

we saw Sir Cyril fasten the helm down with a rope, and then, lowering

a bucket over, throw water on to it; then he threw off his helmet and

armour--his clothes being, by this time, all in a flame--and sprang

into the sea, the fire-ship being now well nigh her own length from

us. She had sheered off none too soon, for some of our sails were on

fire, and it was with great difficulty that we succeeded in cutting

them from the yards and so saving the ship.

"'All, from the Prince down, say that no finer action was ever

performed, and acknowledge that we all owe our lives, and His Majesty

owes his ship, to it. Then, soon after we had hauled Sir Cyril on

board, the Dutchmen boarded us, and there was a stiff fight, all

hands doing their best to beat them back, in which we succeeded.

"'Sir Cyril, though scarce able to stand, joined in the fray,

unnoticed by us all, who in the confusion had not thought of him, and

being, indeed, scarce able to hold his sword, received a heavy wound,

of which, however, the doctor has all hopes that he will make a good

recovery.

"'It would have done you good to hear how the whole crew cheered Sir

Cyril as we dragged him on board. The Prince is mightily taken with

him, and is sending him to London in his own yacht, where I feel sure

that your good dame and fair daughter will do all that they can to

restore him to health. As soon as I get leave--though I do not know

when that will be, for we cannot say as yet how matters will turn

out, or what ships will keep the sea--I shall do myself the honour of

waiting upon you. I pray you give my respectful compliments to Mrs.

Dowsett and Mistress Nellie, who are, I hope, enjoying good health.

"'Your servant to command,

"'SYDNEY OLIPHANT.'"

The tears were standing in Nellie's eyes, and her voice trembled as

she read. When she finished she burst out crying.

"There!" John Wilkes exclaimed, bringing his fist down upon the

table. "I knew, by what that skipper said, the lad had been doing

something quite out of the way, but when I spoke to him about it

before you came in he only said that he had tried his best to do his

duty, just as every other man in the Fleet had done. Who would have

thought, Captain Dave, that that quiet young chap, who used to sit

down below making out your accounts, was going to turn out a hero?"

"Who, indeed?" the Captain said, wiping his eyes with the back of his

hands. "Why, he wasn't more than fifteen then, and, as you say, such

a quiet fellow. He used to sit there and write, and never speak

unless I spoke to him. 'Tis scarce two years ago, and look what he

has done! Who would have thought it? I can't finish my breakfast," he

went on, getting up from his seat, "till I have gone in and shaken

him by the hand."

"You had better not, David," Mrs. Dowsett said gently. "We had best

say but little to him about it now. We can let him know we have heard

how he came by his burns from Lord Oliphant, but do not let us make

much of it. Had he wished it he would have told us himself."

Captain Dave sat down again.

"Perhaps you are right, my dear. At any rate, till he is getting

strong we will not tell him what we think of him. Anyhow, it can't do

any harm to tell him we know it, and may do him good, for it is clear

he does not like telling it himself, and may be dreading our

questioning about the affair."

Mrs. Dowsett and Nellie went into Cyril's room as soon as they had

finished breakfast. Captain Dave followed them a few minutes later.

"We have been hearing how you got burnt," he began. "Your friend,

Lord Oliphant, sent a letter about it by the skipper of his yacht.

That stupid fellow, John, has been carrying it about ever since, and

only remembered it just now, when we were at breakfast. It was a

plucky thing to do, lad."

"It turned out a very lucky one," Cyril said hastily, "for it was the

means of saving my life."

"Saving your life, lad! What do you mean?"

Cyril then told how Robert Ashford and Black Dick had been brought on

board as impressed men, how the former had been killed, and the

confession that Black Dick had made to him before dying.

"He said he had made up his mind to kill me during the fight, but

that, after I had risked my life to save the _Henrietta_, he was

ashamed to kill me, and that, rather than do so, he had resolved to

take his chance of my denouncing him when he returned to land."

"There was some good in the knave, then," Captain Dave said. "Yes,

it was a fortunate as well as a brave action, as it turned out."

"Fortunate in one respect, but not in another," Cyril put in, anxious

to prevent the conversation reverting to the question of his bravery.

"I put down this wound in my shoulder to it, for if I had been myself

I don't think I should have got hurt. I guarded the blow, but I was

so shaky that he broke my guard down as if I had been a child, though

I think that it did turn the blow a little, and saved it from falling

fair on my skull. Besides, I should have had my helmet and armour on