Will was hit by a musket-ball in the last engagement that took place, and was sent back with a batch of wounded to Port Royal. Three of the fingers of his left hand had been carried away, but he bore the loss with equanimity, as it would not compel him to leave the service. Tom, who went with him as his servant, fretted a good deal more over it than he himself, and was often loud in his lamentations.
“It would not have made any difference if it had been me,” he said, “but it is awfully hard on you.”
“What ridiculous nonsense, Tom!” Will said quite angrily, after one of these outbursts. “If it had been you it would have been really serious, for though an officer can get on very well without some of his fingers a sailor would be useless and would be turned adrift with some trifling pension. I shall do very well. I have been mentioned in despatches and I am certain to get my step as soon as I have served long enough to pass, so after a time I shall not miss them at all.”
Tom was silenced, though not convinced. The wound healed rapidly, thanks to Will’s abstemious habits, and in six weeks after entering the hospital he was discharged as fit for duty. The Hawke was not in harbour, so he went to an hotel. On the following day he received an order to call upon the admiral. When he did so that officer received him very kindly. “I am sorry,” he said, “to learn that you have lost some fingers, Mr. Gilmore.”
“I hope it will not interfere much with my efficiency, sir?”
“I think not,” the admiral said; “I have received the surgeon’s report this morning. In it he stated that your wound had from the first gone on most favourably, and that they had really kept you in hospital a fortnight longer than was absolutely necessary, lest in your anxiety to rejoin you might do yourself harm. Three days since a cutter of about a hundred tons was sent in by the Sylph. She was a pirate, and, like all vessels of that class, very fast, and would most likely have outsailed the Sylph had she not caught her up a creek. I have purchased her for the government service, and I propose to place you in command.”
Will gave a start of surprise. At his age he could not have expected for a moment to be given an independent command.
“I have noted your behaviour here, and have looked through the records of your service since you joined, and I am convinced that you will do credit to the post. I shall give you a midshipman junior to yourself from the Thetis, and you will have forty hands before the mast. The Hawke is expected in in a few days, so you can pick five men from her. The rest I will make up from the other ships. The cutter will be furnished with four twelve-pounders, and the long sixteen as a bow gun, which she had when she was captured. Your duty will be to police the coasts and to overhaul as many craft as you may find committing depredations, of course avoiding a combat with adversaries too strong for you.”
“I thank you most heartily, sir, for selecting me for this service, and will do my best to merit your kindness.”
“That is all right, Mr. Gilmore. I have acted, as I believe, for the good of the service, and to some extent as an incentive to other young officers to use their wits.”
Will went out with his head in a whirl. He could hardly have hoped, within a year of his term of service as a midshipman, to obtain a separate command, and he could have shouted with joy at this altogether unexpected promotion. The first thing he did was to take a boat and row off in it to his new command. She was a handsome boat, evidently designed to be fast and weatherly.
“These beggars know how to build boats much better than how to fight them,” he said, when he had examined her. “Assuredly in anything like a light wind she would run away from the Sylph. The admiral was right when he said that it was only by chance that she was caught. I hope the fellow who is going with me is a good sort. It would be awkward if we did not pull well together. At any rate, as the admiral seems to have picked him out for the service, he must be worth his salt. Of course I shall have Dimchurch as my boatswain; he will take one watch and the youngster the other. It will be hard if we don’t catch something.”
Having rowed round the cutter two or three times he returned to the shore. As the little vessel had been taken by surprise, and had not been able to offer any resistance to a craft so much more powerful than herself, she was uninjured, and was in a fit state to be immediately recommissioned. She was called L’Agile, a name which Will thought very suitable for her.
“Forty men will be none too strong for her,” he said, “for we shall have to work two guns on each side and that long one in the bow.” He went to bed that night and dreamt of fierce fights and many captures, and laughed at himself when he awoke. “Still,” he said, “I shall always be able to tackle any craft of our own size and carrying anything like our number of men.”
Three days later the Hawke came in. Will at once rowed off to her and had a chat with his friends. When he mentioned his new command his news was at first received with absolute incredulity, but when at last his messmates came to understand that he was not joking, he was heartily congratulated on his good fortune. Afterwards he was not a little chaffed on the tremendous deeds he and his craft were going to perform. When at last they became serious, Latham, the master’s mate, remarked: “But what is your new command like?”
“She is a cutter of about a hundred tons, carrying four twelve-pounders, and a sixteen-pounder long pivot gun at the bow. I am to have forty men and a young midshipman from the Thetis.”
“A very tidy little craft, I should say, Gilmore, and you will probably get a good deal more fun out of her than from a frigate or line-of-battle ship. You will want a good boatswain to take charge of one of the watches.”
“I shall have one, for I am to take five men out of the Hawke, and you may be sure I shall take Dimchurch as boatswain.”
“You could not have a better man,” Latham said; “he is certainly one of the smartest fellows on board the ship. He is very popular with all the men, and is full of life and go, and always the first to set an example when there is any work to be done. I suppose we shall also lose the services of that boy Tom?”
“I think so,” Will laughed; “I should be quite lost without so faithful a hand, and indeed, though he still ranks as a boy, he is a big powerful fellow, and a match for many an A.B. at hauling a rope or pulling an oar.”
“You are right. He is as big round the chest as many of the men, and though perhaps not so active, quite as powerful. When will you hoist your pendant?”
“I have to get the crew together yet. I am to have small drafts from several of the ships, and it may be a few days before they can be collected.”
The next morning the Thetis arrived, and the young midshipman came on shore an hour later to report himself to Will. He looked surprised for a moment at the age of his new commander, but gravely reported himself for service. Will was pleased with his appearance. He was a merry-faced boy, but with a look on his face which indicated pluck and determination.
“You are surprised at my age, no doubt, Harman,” Will said, “and I cannot be more than a year older than yourself, but I have been fortunate enough to be twice mentioned in despatches, indeed have had wonderful luck. I feel sure that we shall get on well together, and I hope both do well. We are to act as police on the coast of Cuba; it swarms with pirates, and it will be hard if we don’t fall in with some of them. You will, of course, keep one watch, and the boatswain, who is a thoroughly good man, will take the other. I need hardly say that we shall have no nonsense about commanding officer. Except when on duty, I hope we shall be good chums, which means, of course, that when an enemy is in sight or the weather is dirty I must be in absolute command.”
“Thank you, sir!” Harman said. “These are good terms, and I promise to obey your commands as readily as if you were old enough to be my father.”
“That is good. Now I have dinner ordered and I hope you will share it with me. We can then talk over matters comfortably.”
Before dinner was over, the lad was more than satisfied with his new chief, and felt sure that at any rate the cruise would be a pleasant one. Just as they had finished, Dimchurch and Tom came in to see Will. On finding that he was engaged they would have withdrawn, but Will called them in. “Sit down and join Mr. Harman and myself in a chat. This, Harman, is Bob Dimchurch, who is going to be our boatswain, and Tom Stevens, whom I have known since we were five years old, and although I have gone over his head we are as good friends as ever. Dimchurch took me under his wing when I first joined, and since then has fought by my side on several occasions.”
“We came to wish you success in your new command, sir,” Dimchurch said, “and should not have intruded had we known that you were not alone.”
“It is no intrusion at all, Dimchurch. There is no man whose congratulations can be more pleasing to me. Have you seen the cutter?”
“Yes, sir. Tom and I noticed what a smart, likely craft she was when we came in and dropped anchor. I little thought that it was you who had command of her, but I have no fear but that you will do her full justice. I could hardly believe my ears when I was told this afternoon, and Tom was ready to jump out of his clothes with joy.”
“It is wonderfully good fortune, Dimchurch; I can hardly believe it myself yet.”
“I am sure you deserve it, sir. It was you who recaptured that prize in the Mediterranean; it was you who saved the first lieutenant’s life; and it was you who suggested a plan by which we accounted for those three pirates. If that didn’t deserve promotion, it is hard to say what would.”
“I owe no small portion of it, Dimchurch, to the fact that I was able to take an observation so soon after I had joined, and that was due to the kindness of my good friend Miss Warden.”
“Yes, sir, that goes for something, no doubt, but there is a good deal more than that in it.” After some further talk both of the past and the future, Dimchurch sprang to his feet, saying: “Well, sir, I wish you success. But it is time we were off. I am told we are to remove our duds on board the new craft to-morrow.”
“Yes, we are going to start manning her at once; I shall be on board with Mr. Harman directly after breakfast. I have not put foot upon her yet, and am most anxious to do so.”
The craft fully answered Will’s expectations. Her after-accommodation was exceedingly good; the cabin was handsomely fitted, and there were two state-rooms.
“We shall be in clover here, Harman,” he said; “no one could wish for a better command. I must set to work to get stores shipped at once. How many of the crew are on board?”
“Twenty-three, sir, and I believe we shall have our full complement before night.”
As they spoke a boat laden with provisions came alongside, and all hands were at once engaged transferring her load to the cutter. In the course of the forenoon the remainder of the men came on board in twos and threes. After dinner Will called the crew together and read out his commission. Then he made his maiden speech.
“My lads,” he said, “I wish this to be a comfortable ship, and I will do my best to make it so. I shall expect the ready obedience of all; and you may be assured that if possible I will put you in the way of gaining prize-money. There are plenty of prizes to be taken, and I hope confidently that many of them will fall to our share.” The men gave three cheers, and Will added: “I will order an extra supply of grog to be served out this evening.”
On the following day L’Agile dipped her ensign to the admiral and set off on her voyage. Will was well pleased with the smartness the crew displayed in getting under weigh, and more than satisfied with the pace at which she moved through the water. For a month they cruised off the coast of Cuba, during which time they picked up eight small prizes. These were for the most part rowing-galleys carrying one large lateen sail. None of them were sufficiently strong to show fight; they were not intended to attack merchantmen, but preyed upon native craft, and were manned by from ten to twenty desperadoes. Most of them, when overhauled, pretended to be peaceful fishermen or traders, but a search always brought to light concealed arms, and in some cases captured goods. The boats were burned, and their crews, mostly mulattoes, with a sprinkling of negroes—rascals whose countenances were sufficiently villainous to justify their being hanged without trial,—were put ashore; for the admiral had given instructions to Will not to burden himself with prisoners, who would have to be closely guarded, and would therefore weaken his crew, and, if brought to Port Royal, would take up prison accommodation.
At last one day a schooner rather bigger than themselves was sighted. Her appearance was rakish, and there was little doubt as to her character. All sail was at once crowded on L’Agile. The schooner was nearly as fast as she was, and at the end of a six hours’ chase she was still two miles ahead. Suddenly she headed for the shore and disappeared among the trees. L’Agile proceeded on her course until opposite the mouth of the inlet which the pirate had entered. It was getting dark, and Will decided to wait until morning, and then to send a boat in to reconnoitre.
“I have not forgotten,” he said to Harman, “the way in which those two French frigates I have told you of ran into a trap, and I don’t mean to be caught so if I can help it.”
L’Agile remained hove to during the night, and in the morning lowered a boat, with four hands, commanded by Dimchurch, who was ordered to row in until he obtained a fair view of the enemy, and observe as far as possible what preparation had been made for defence. He was absent for half an hour, and then returned, saying that the schooner was lying anchored with her sails stowed at the far end of the inlet, which was about half a mile long and nearly as wide, with her broadside bearing on the entrance.
“If it is as large as that,” Will said, “there will be plenty of room for us to manœuvre. Did you make out what number of guns she carried?”
“Yes, sir, she mounted four guns on each side; I should say they were for the most part ten-pounders.”
“I think we can reckon upon taking her. Our guns are of heavier metal than hers, and the long-tom will make up for our deficiency in numbers.”
L’Agile was put under as easy sail as would suffice to give her manœuvring powers, and then headed for the mouth of the inlet. She was half-way through when suddenly two hidden batteries, each mounting three guns, opened upon her.
“Drop the anchor at once,” Will shouted; “we will finish with these gentlemen before we go farther.” The schooner at the same time opened fire, but at half a mile range her guns did not inflict much damage upon the cutter. Lying between the two batteries she engaged them both, her broadside guns firing with grape, while the long-tom sent a shot into each alternately. In a quarter of an hour their fire was silenced, three of the guns were dismounted, and the men who had been working them fled precipitately.
“Take a boat and spike the remaining guns, Dimchurch,” Will said; “I don’t want any more bother with them.”
In a few minutes Dimchurch returned to the cutter, having accomplished his mission. The anchor was then got up again, and she proceeded to attack the schooner. L’Agile’s casualties had been trifling; only one had been killed and three wounded, all of them slightly. As she sailed up the inlet she replied with her pivot-gun to the fire of the enemy. At every shot the splinters were seen to fly from the schooner’s side, much to the discomfiture of the pirate gunners, whose aim became so wild that scarcely a shot struck L’Agile. When within a hundred yards of the schooner the helm was put down, and the cutter swept round and opened fire with her two broadside guns.
The shots had scarcely rung out when Harman touched Will on the shoulder. “Look there, sir,” he said. Will turned and saw a vessel emerging from a side channel, which was so closed in with trees that it had been unperceived by anybody aboard the cutter. Her aim was evidently to get between them and the sea. She was a cutter of about the same size as L’Agile, but carried six ten-pounders.
“The schooner has enticed us in here,” Will said, “there is no doubt about that, and now there is nothing to do but to fight it out. Take her head round,” he said, “we will settle it with the cutter first. The schooner cannot come to her assistance for some minutes as she has all her sails furled.”
Accordingly he ranged up to the new-comer, and a furious contest ensued. He engaged her with two broadside guns and the long-tom, and at the same time kept his other two guns playing upon the schooner, the crew of which were busy getting up sail. The long-tom was served by Dimchurch himself, and every shot went crashing through the side of the pirate cutter, the fire of the two broadside guns being almost equally effective.
“Keep it up, lads,” Will shouted; “we shall finish with her before the other can come up.” As he spoke a shot from the long-tom struck the cutter’s mainmast, which tottered for a moment and then fell over her side towards L’Agile, and the sails and hamper entirely prevented the crew from working her guns. For another five minutes the fire was kept up; then the crew were seen to be leaping overboard, and presently a man stood up and shouted that she surrendered. The schooner was now coming up fast.
“Don’t let her escape,” Will shouted; “she has had enough of it, and is trying to get away. Run her aboard!” In a minute the two vessels crashed together, and headed by Will, Harman, and Dimchurch, L’Agile’s crew sprang on board the schooner.
The pirate crew were evidently discouraged by the fate of their consort and by the complete failure of their plan to capture L’Agile. The captain, a gigantic mulatto, fought desperately, as did two or three of his principal men. One of them charged at Will while he was engaged with another, and would have killed him had not Tom Stevens sprung forward and caught the blow on his own cutlass. The sword flew from the man’s hand, and Tom at once cut him down. Dimchurch engaged in a single-handed contest with the great mulatto captain. Strong as the sailor was he could with difficulty parry the ruffian’s blows, but skill made up for inequality of strength, and after a few exchanges he laid the man low with a clever thrust. The fall of their leader completed the discomfiture of the pirates, most of whom at once sprang overboard and made for the shore, those who remained being cut down by the sailors.
When at last they were masters of the ship the crew gave three lusty cheers. But Will did not permit them to waste precious time in rejoicing. He knew that, though they had accomplished so much, there was still a great deal to be done, for the prizes might even yet be recaptured before they got them out to sea. Without a moment’s delay, therefore, he sent a boat to take possession of the cutter. The sail and wreckage were cleared away, and the boat proceeded to tow her out of the inlet. In the meantime a warp was taken from L’Agile to the schooner, the sails of the latter were lowered, and Will sailed proudly out with his second prize in tow. Once fairly at sea the crew began to repair damages. Five men in all had been killed and eleven were wounded. Several of the latter, however, were able to lend a hand. The shot-holes in L’Agile were first patched with pieces of plank, then covered with canvas, and afterwards given a coat of paint. Then the schooner was taken in hand, and when she was got into something like ship-shape order her sails were hoisted again, and ten men under Harman placed on board to work her. The cutter was taken in tow, only three men being left on board to steer.
It was late in the afternoon before all the repairs were completed. Before sailing, a rough examination was made of the holds of the two vessels, and to the great satisfaction of L’Agile’s crew both were found to contain a considerable amount of booty.
“It is probable that there is a storehouse somewhere,” Will said; “but as we have under thirty available men it would be madness to try to land, for certainly two-thirds of the scoundrels escaped by swimming, and as each craft must have carried nearly a hundred men we should have been altogether overmatched. Well, they had certainly a right to count upon success; their arrangements were exceedingly good. No doubt they expected us to leave the batteries alone, and from the position in which they were placed they could have peppered us hotly while we were engaged with the schooner; in which case they would probably have had an easy victory. It was a cleverly-laid trap and ought to have succeeded.”
“And it would, sir,” Dimchurch said, “if you had not turned from the schooner and settled with the cutter before the other could come to her assistance.”
“The credit is largely due to you,” Will said; “that shot of yours that took the mast out was the turning-point of the fight. It completely crippled her, and as it luckily fell towards us it altogether prevented them from returning our fire.”
Very proud were Will and his crew when they sailed into Port Royal with their two prizes. Will at once rowed to the flagship, where he received a very hearty greeting. “You have not come empty-handed, I see, Mr. Gilmore,” the admiral said; “you were lucky indeed to take two ships of your own size one after the other.”
“We took them at the same time, sir,” Will said, “as you will see by my report.”
The admiral gave a look of surprise and opened the document. First he ran his eye over it, then he read it more attentively. When he had finished he said: “You have fought a most gallant action, Mr. Gilmore, a most gallant action. It was indeed long odds you had against you, two vessels each considerably over your own size and manned by far heavier crews, besides the two batteries. It was an excellent idea to leave the vessel with which you were first engaged and turn upon the second one. If you had tried to fight them both at once you would almost certainly have been overcome, and you succeeded because you were cool enough to grasp the fact that the schooner at anchor and with her sails down would not be able to come to her friend’s assistance for some minutes, and acted so promptly on your conclusions. The oldest officer in the service could not have done better. I congratulate you very heartily on your conduct. What are the contents of the cargoes of the prizes?”
“I cannot say, sir. With three vessels on my hands I had no time to examine them, but they certainly contain a number of bales of various sorts. I opened one which contained British goods.”
“Then no doubt they are the pick of the cargoes they captured,” the admiral said; “I will go off with you myself and ascertain. I have nothing else to do this afternoon, and it will be a matter of interest to me as well as to you. You may as well let your own gig row back and I will take mine.”
Accordingly the gig was sent back to L’Agile with orders for two boats to be lowered and twenty of the men to be ready to go to the two prizes. As soon as the admiral came on board the hatchways were opened, and the men brought up a number of the bales. These were found to contain fine cloths, material for women’s dresses, china, ironmongery, carpets, and other goods of British manufacture. The other vessel contained sugar, coffee, ginger, spices, and other products of the islands. “That is enough,” said the admiral; “I don’t think we shall be far wrong if we put down the value of those two cargoes at £10,000. The two vessels will sell for about £1000 apiece, so that the prize-money will be altogether about £12,000, and even after putting aside my portion you will all share to a handsome amount in the proceeds. That is the advantage of not belonging to a squadron. In that case your share would not be worth anything like what it will now be. By the way, since you have been absent I have received the account of the prize-money earned by the Furious in the Mediterranean and by the capture of the French frigates. It amounts in all to £35,000. Of course as a midshipman your share will not be very large; probably, indeed, it will not exceed £250, so, you see, pirate-hunting in the West Indies, in command even of a small craft, pays enormously better than being a midshipman on board a frigate.”
“It does indeed, sir, though £250 would be a fortune to a midshipman.”
“Well, if our calculations as to the value of the cargoes and ships are correct, you will get more than ten times that amount now. And as there are only the flag and one other officer to share with you, the men’s portion will be something like £100 apiece. A few more captures like this,” and he laughed, “and you will become a rich man.”
He then rowed away to his own ship, and Will returned to L’Agile and gladdened the hearts of Harman and the crew with the news of the value of their captures. L’Agile remained another week in harbour, during which time all signs of the recent conflict were removed, and he received a draft of men sufficient to bring his crew up to its former level. Then she again set sail.
They had cruised for about a fortnight when one morning, just as Will was getting up, Dimchurch ran down and reported that they had sighted two sails suspiciously near each other. “One,” he said, “looks to me a full-rigged ship, and the other a large schooner.”
“I will have a look at them,” Will said, and, putting on his clothes, he ran on deck.
“Yes, it certainly looks suspicious,” he said, when he had examined them through his telescope; “we will head towards them.”
“She looks to me a very large schooner, sir,” said Dimchurch.
“Yes, she is larger than these pirates generally are, but there is very little doubt as to her character. How far are they off, do you think?”
“Ten miles, sir, I should say; but we have got the land-breeze while they are becalmed. By the look of the water I should say we should carry the wind with us until we are pretty close to them.”
Every sail the cutter could carry was hoisted, and she approached the two vessels rapidly. They were some four miles from them when the sails of the schooner filled and she began to move through the water.
“It will be a long chase now,” Will said; “but the cutter has light wings, so we have a good chance of overhauling her.”
“The sails of the ship are all anyhow, sir,” Harman said.
“So they are, Mr. Harman; foul play has been going on there, I have not the least doubt. The fact that the crew are not making any effort to haul in her sheets and come to meet us is in itself a proof of it. I think it is our duty to board her and see what has taken place. Even if we allow the schooner to escape we shall light upon her again some day, I have no doubt.”
“She is very low in the water,” he said, after examining the merchantman carefully through his telescope, “and either her cargo is of no value to the pirates, and they have allowed it to remain in her, or they have scuttled her.”
“I am afraid it is that, sir,” Dimchurch said, “for she is certainly lower in the water than when I first saw her.”
“You are right, Dimchurch, the scoundrels have scuttled her. Please God we shall get to her before she founders! Oh for a stronger wind! Do you think we could row there quicker than we sail?”
“No, sir. The gig might go as fast as the cutter, but the other boat would not be able to keep pace with her.”
“Well, make all preparations for lowering. Heaven only knows what tragedy may have taken place there.”
After all had been got ready, every eye on board the cutter was fixed on the vessel. There was no doubt now that she was getting deeper in the water every minute. When they got within a quarter of a mile of the ship she was so low that it was evident she could not float many minutes longer.
“To the boats, men,” Will cried, “row for your lives.”
A moment later three boats started at full speed. The gig, in which Dimchurch and Tom were both rowing, was first to search the sinking ship. Will leapt on board at once, and as he did so he gave an exclamation of horror, for the deck was strewn with dead bodies. Without stopping to look about him he ran aft to the companion and went down to the cabin, which was already a foot deep in water. There he found some fifteen men and women sitting securely bound on the sofas. Will drew his dirk, and running along cut their thongs.
“Up on deck for your lives,” he cried, “and get into the boats alongside; she will not float three minutes.”
At the farther end of the cabin a young girl was kneeling by the side of a stout old lady, who had evidently fainted.
“Come,” Will said, going up to her, “it is a matter of life and death; we shall have the water coming down the companion in a minute or two.”
“I can’t leave her,” the girl cried.
Will attempted to lift the old lady, but she was far too heavy for him.
“I cannot save her,” he said, and raised a shout for Dimchurch. It was unanswered. “There,” he said, “the water is coming down; she will sink in a minute. I cannot save her—indeed she is as good as dead already—but I can save you,” and snatching the girl up he ran to the foot of the companion. The water was already pouring down, but he struggled up against it, and managed to reach the deck; but before he could cross to the side the vessel gave a sudden lurch and went down. He was carried under with the suck, but by desperate efforts he gained the surface just as his breath was spent. For a moment or two he was unable to speak, but he was none the less ready to act. Looking round he saw a hen-coop floating near, and, swimming to it, he clung to it with one arm while he held the girl’s head above water with the other. Then, when he had recovered his breath, he shouted “Dimchurch!” Fortunately the gig was not far away, and his hail was at once answered, and a moment later the boat was alongside the hen-coop.
“Take this young lady, Dimchurch, and lay her in the stern-sheets. She can’t be dead, for she was sensible when the ship went down, and we were not under water a minute.”
After the girl had been laid down, Will was helped in.
“Did we save them all?” he asked.
“Yes, sir; at least I think so. They all came running on deck and jumped straight into the boats. I was busy helping them, and did not notice that you were missing. As the last seemed to have come up, I called to the other boats to make off, for I saw that she could only float a minute longer, and as it was we had only just got clear when she went down. Indeed we had a narrow escape of it, and the men had to row. I was standing up to look for you, and had just discovered that you were not in any of the boats, when I heard you call. It gave me a bad turn, as you may guess, sir, and glad I was when I saw you were holding on to that hen-coop.”
“Now, let us try and bring this young lady round,” Will said.
They turned her over first upon her face and let the water run out of her mouth. Then they laid her flat on her back with a jersey under her head, and rubbed her hands and feet and pressed gently at times on her chest. After five minutes of this treatment the girl heaved a sigh, and shortly afterwards opened her eyes and looked round in bewilderment at the faces of the men. Then suddenly she realized where she was and remembered what had happened.
“Oh, it was dreadful!” she murmured. “Poor Miss Morrison was lost, was she not?”
“If that was the name of the lady you were kneeling by I regret to say that she was. It was impossible to save her; for though I tried my best I could not lift her. As you call her Miss Morrison I presume she is not a close relation.”
“No, she had been my governess since I was a child, and has been a mother to me. Oh, to think that she is dead while I am saved!”
“You must remember that it might have been worse,” Will said; “you certainly cannot require a governess many more years, and will find others on whom to bestow your affection. How old are you?”
“I am fourteen,” the girl said.
“Well, here is my ship, and we will all do our best to make you comfortable.”
“Your ship!” the girl said in surprise; “do you mean to say that you are in command of her? You do not look more than a boy.”
“I am not much more than a boy,” he said with a smile, “but for all that I am the commander of this vessel, and this young gentleman is my second in command.”
