“Is it possible that the pirates could have stuffed some of the silks and laces inside that huge porker, Hemming?” asked Jack.
“I’ve heard of some Flanders mares coming across the Channel stuffed up to the mouth with lace,” observed Adair.
“If it were possible, I think we should be right to search that pig,” said Hemming, looking very hard at the unconscious object under discussion, who went grunting on, asking somewhat loudly for food.
“There’s no doubt about it,” cried the mate of the merchantman. “She’ll make prime pork chops too.”
The men had been meantime collecting sticks and lighting a fire; perhaps they shrewdly guessed how the discussion might end.
“Here, butcher, you’ll understand how to cut that pig up better than any of us, so as to see what is in her inside,” said Hemming. In a very short time the fat pig was converted into pork, and some prime chops were frizzling and hissing away before the fire. No laces or satins were found inside, but instead some very delicious pig’s fry, which, under the circumstances, was perhaps more acceptable, especially as the laces would, I think, have been spoilt had they been stuffed down the pig’s throat. The old women made a great lamentation when they saw their pig being killed, but they were pacified by having some of the chops presented to them, and then they produced some salt, and some better bread, and some lemons, and plates, and knives, and forks, which latter were of silver. Their female hearts evidently softened when they found that no harm was done to them, and that killing the pig was a case of necessity; and though they were not communicative, simply from want of language to express themselves, they chattered away to each other most vehemently. They spread a table in the hall where they had been first seen, and seemed to wish to do their best to serve their uninvited guests. The seamen made very merry over their feast of pig, though they were rather in want of something to wash it down. Poor fellows! they had neither tea nor coffee. At length the old ladies produced a jar of arrack—very vile stuff it was, but the seamen would have drunk it without stint had Mr Hemming allowed them. He, however, interposed, and insisted on serving out a little at a time to a few of the men. The effect was such as to make him jump up and kick over the jar, by which all the liquor was spilt, very much to the disappointment of those who had not had any.
“I don’t mean to say that these respectable old ladies put anything into the spirits, but somebody did, and you would have been very sorry for yourselves if you had taken much of it,” he observed, as he reseated himself.
This little incident rather astonished the old ladies, but not understanding what was said, they took it to be the effect of pure accident, and continued as attentive as before.
“When the boats come back, you shall have your grog, my lads,” said Hemming; “in the meantime, if any of you are thirsty, there is a well of cool water. The pirates will scarcely have thought of poisoning that.”
By the time the feast was concluded, very little of the pig remained; the seamen declared that they had never eaten better pork in their lives. The rest of the day was spent in searching for stolen property, though only a few bales of merchandise were discovered, stowed away here and there, in the oddest places imaginable. Meantime Hemming and Jack began to be somewhat anxious about Mr Thorn and the boats. Evening was coming on, and they ought long before to have returned. In vain the old mate and the midshipmen scanned the horizon. Not a sail was to be seen approaching the island. Two or three vessels only passed far away in the offing. Many other rocky isles were rising out of the ocean like blue mounds, some of them faint and misty from the distance they were off. Towards one of them the boats had directed their course. It was well-known that many of them were, and had been for ages, the haunts of pirates.
“I say, Hemming, suppose Mr Thorn has been entrapped by some of those piratical fellows out there; what will become of them, I wonder?” said Jack.
“We shall have to go and hunt them out,” was the answer. “The pirates will scarcely venture to hurt them.”
The evening drew on and darkness returned, and still no boats made their appearance. Mr Hemming, who was really a very good officer, especially when in command, and when he felt the responsibility of his position, had a strict watch kept all night, for he thought it probable that some of the pirates might be hid in the island, and when they found how few were left in charge of the fort, might attempt a surprise to recover the booty. The night, however, passed away quietly, and in the morning Jack was dispatched in the cutter to carry information of what had occurred to the frigate. Jack had a long pull, for the wind was contrary. He kept his eyes about him all the way, looking into every nook and corner, for he could not tell in which a pirate boat might have taken shelter, and he thought it more than likely that one might suddenly pounce out and try to capture him. None appeared. This, however, did not make him less cautious for the future. At last Jack reached the frigate. Captain Lascelles was very much vexed at hearing the loss of the boats. He instantly ordered the Racer to be got under weigh to go in search of them. It was very intricate navigation among those isles and islets and rocks, especially at night, but the wind was fair and there was a moon to shed her pale light over the ocean. The lead was kept constantly going, and hands were stationed aloft as lookouts. The Racer had just got off the island of which Hemming had been left in charge, when a look-out forward announced a boat on the starboard bow. The boat was pulling towards them, and the frigate being hove-to, she came alongside and Alick Murray appeared on board. He reported that they had overtaken the pirates who were in possession of the boats close to a rocky island, and were on the point of capturing them when half a dozen boats started out and completely turned the fortunes of the day. On this, Mr Thorn, seeing that they must inevitably be over-powered, ordered him to endeavour to make his escape, and to give notice of what had occurred. This, though pursued, he had been able to do. Jack having reported the starving state of the garrison, a boat was sent with provisions and men to ascertain also how Hemming and his party were getting on. She returned in half an hour with a favourable report, bringing off Mr Dobbin, the mate of the merchantman, and the frigate then continued her course for the second piratical stronghold. She did not come off it till near noon the next day, and then had to sail twice round it before a landing-place could be discovered. Some little anxiety was felt for the fate of Mr Thorn and his men, for the pirates were not supposed to be gentlemen who stood on ceremony as to the treatment of their prisoners.
“If they dare to injure our people, the Greeks well know that we would sweep every one of them off their rock into the sea,” said Captain Lascelles. “Clemency on such an occasion is cruelty to others.”
Scarcely had the frigate hove-to off what appeared to be a little harbour, than a boat with a white flag was seen coming out of it. In ten minutes a splendidly dressed Greek came up the side armed with a handsomely chased sword and pistols, and a red cap set jauntily on one side.
“Can anyone speak Italian?” he asked in a soft tone, in that beautiful language.
“Yes, I can,” answered Captain Lascelles.
“Then, sir, I have to make great complaints of ill-treatment from your people,” replied the Greek; and he made out a long story to the effect that he, a quiet, respectable land-owner, whose sole aim was to cultivate in peace a few acres of land descended to him from a long line of illustrious ancestors, had been insulted, attacked by an armed force, suspected of robbery, of which he was incapable; that some of his poor peasants, in their horror and alarm, finding some boats, had jumped into them, and induced their crews to assist in pulling them to a neighbouring island, hoping there to be safe; that they had been pursued, and that then, and not till then, had they been compelled to resort to some gentle force for their own protection. While the Greek was speaking, Mr Dobbin came up behind him, and made signs that he was the very man who had plundered their brig.
“Why, sir, the master of an English merchantman complains that you ill-treated his people and robbed his vessel.”
“O Signori, impossible; that I should be guilty of such an act!” and the Greek smiled sweetly and put his hand on his heart.
For a moment he was, however, a little taken aback, when Mr Dobbin, stepping forward and confronting him, said, “Do you know me?”
“Ah si, adesso me ricordo! Ah yes, now I recollect,” said the Greek with a bland smile. “But you shall judge, sir, how unjustly I am accused. I did lately take charge of a brig for a friend. I was suffering from want of water and bread. See the deceitfulness of the world; I asked it humbly, they gave it willingly, and at the same time this certificate,” and he produced the paper signed by the master of the brig. The impudence of the Greek almost overcame the captain’s composure.
“Notwithstanding that paper, I must detain you,” he observed.
“What! Detain an independent chieftain, who comes on board your ship under the sacred protection of a flag of truce, a thing unheard of by all civilised nations,” exclaimed the Greek in a tone of indignation and astonishment; “no, no, you will not do that.”
The Greek was right; Captain Lascelles would not do a wrong even to obtain an undoubted right. The Greek knew that he had outwitted us. The result was that he undertook to send the boats and their crews on board the frigate unharmed, on condition that the island was not attacked by an armed force. To these terms Captain Lascelles was obliged to consent. Mr Thorn and Murray soon came back, very well, but very much vexed at what had occurred. The island was afterwards searched, but nothing was found, and the Racer, having taken on board all the recovered booty, conveyed it to Corfu, where the merchantman was waiting to receive it. After a month or so, when the frigate got back to Malta, Captain Lascelles found that the independent Greek chieftain had lodged a complaint to the effect that his cattle and poultry had been wantonly destroyed. On enquiry, the matter resolved itself into the slaughter of the pig. It came out that Jack and Adair had proposed the crime. The Admiral at the time thought it better to take no notice of the affair. However, he soon after invited the two midshipmen to dine with him, and both of them found themselves served with rather a large helping of roast pork.
“You are fond of pig, young gentlemen, are you not?” said the Admiral with a laugh in his eye.
“Yes, sir, very, especially when I have to kill one in the line of duty, and am ravenously hungry into the bargain,” answered Paddy with all the simplicity of an Irishman. The Admiral laughed, and as he was fond of a joke and knew both Lord Derrynane and Admiral Triton, he often asked the two youngsters for the sake of passing it off and telling the story about the pig and the pirates.
Soon after this Jack and Terence met with a severe trial. For the first time since they came to sea they were separated, and Adair was appointed to a ten-gun brig, the Onyx. Happily that class of vessel no longer exists in the navy. They obtained the unattractive title of sea coffins, from the number of them which had been lost with all hands. They carried a heavy weight of metal on deck, had but little beam, but were rigged with taunt masts and very square yards. Still these circumstances did not trouble Adair half as much as parting from Jack and Murray.
The frigate and the brig were sent to cruise in different directions, and for several months did not meet.
“A brig of war is in sight,” said Jack, entering the captain’s cabin, sent by the officer of the watch; “she has made her number the Onyx.”
“Signalise her to heave-to when she nears us,” said Captain Lascelles. “I will be on deck presently.” In a short time another signal was run up. It was to invite the captain and officers of the brig to dine on board the frigate. It was very readily accepted, and in a short time the tall frigate and her little companion might have been seen quietly floating near each other, their sails scarcely filled by the light breeze, and their rigging and hulls reflected vividly in the calm water. The midshipmen had a great deal to talk about, and numerous adventures to describe more interesting to themselves than to anybody else. They had a very merry party also in the midshipmen’s berth, and all were sorry to find that it was time for the officers of the brig to return on board. When Captain Lascelles and his party came on deck he cast his eye round the horizon.
“I do not like the look of the sky out there,” he remarked, pointing with his hand to the eastward. “Captain Sims, I must advise you to get on board as soon as possible and shorten sail, or your brig will be caught in a squall before you are ready.” Captain Sims was not a man fond of rapid movement, but on this occasion he saw that no time was to be lost.
“Good-bye, Paddy,” said Jack; “take care of yourself aboard the little hooker there, and we’ll have many a jovial day together before long.”
“Good-bye, Rogers; good-bye, Murray; good-bye, old fellows,” answered Terence.
“The brig is a jolly little craft, in spite of what they call her.”
“What’s that?” asked Murray.
“The sea coffin,” answered Terence, as they shoved off. The two boats which had brought the captain and his officers made the best of their way to the brig. They were soon close to her. The white cloud had meantime been growing larger and larger, and yet there was scarcely a breath of wind. Many on board the frigate did not believe even that a squall was brewing. Suddenly the clouds, as if impelled by some mighty impulse, came rushing on, not in a direct line but with a circular motion, towards the spot where lay the two ships of war.
“All hands shorten sail,” cried the first lieutenant. “Man the fore and main clew garnets, spanker brails—topsail halyards—clew up—haul down, let fly of all.” These and sundry other orders followed in rapid succession. The squall, seeming to gain rapidity as it advanced, struck the frigate before it was expected. Jack and Murray had hurried with others to their stations aloft and were endeavouring as rapidly as they could to get those orders they received executed, but the exertions of all were insufficient to take the canvas off the ship in time. Over heeled the frigate on her beam ends, the water rushing in at her lee ports—some of the sails were split to ribbons, sheets and halyards were flying loose, and a scene of confusion prevailed such as she had never before been in. The whole surface of the ocean was a mass of white foam, surrounded by which the ship lay an almost helpless wreck. The helm was put up, but she would not answer it.
