Owen Hartley; or, Ups and Downs Part 16

"I knew it would be so," groaned the mate. "Any sign of a breeze?"

"None that I can perceive, sir," answered Owen. He dragged himself up by the mast so as to obtain a wider range of observation. Unable to stand long he soon sat down again. After a lapse of some time the mate again asked in a faint voice, "Any sign of a breeze?"

Owen once more looked out. He was about to sink down on the thwart, when his eye fell on a white spot in the horizon. He gazed at it without speaking; it might be only a sea-bird's wing. Again and again he looked with straining eyes.

"A sail! a sail!" he exclaimed. His voice sounded hollow and strange; he fancied some one else was speaking.

"Are you mocking us?" asked the mate.

"No, sir, I am certain it is a sail," answered Owen.

His voice aroused Nat and Mike, who turned round and looked over the side. The mate, who just before appeared to have entirely lost his strength, dragged himself up and took Owen's place at the mast.

With what sounded like an hysterical laugh, "Yes," he cried out, "a sail! no doubt about it; she is bringing up a breeze, and standing this way. We are saved! we are saved!"

He kept his post, grasping the mast tightly, and watching the approaching sail. Owen returned to his seat, from whence he could well observe the stranger. A long time must pa.s.s before she could be up to them, and before then she might alter her course. They wore but a speck on the water, and might be pa.s.sed unperceived. Still the mate kept his post, waving his hand and trying to shout out, as if at that distance he could be either seen or heard. By his behaviour Owen thought he must have lost his senses. Nat and Mike every now and then uttered strange exclamations, showing that they were much in the same condition. The stranger's royals had first been seen, then her topgallant sails, and now the heads of her topsails appeared above the horizon. She was evidently a large s.h.i.+p, and, as her courses came in sight, the mate p.r.o.nounced that she was a man-of-war, a frigate, or perhaps a line-of-battle s.h.i.+p. She stood steadily on, as if steering for the boat, which, however, could scarcely yet have been discovered. As the expectation of being saved grew stronger, Owen felt his energies--which he had hitherto by great effort maintained, when the lives of his companions seemed to depend on his retaining his senses--giving way.

He saw the hull of the s.h.i.+p rise above the water, he could count her guns, he knew that she was a frigate; he was certain that the boat was discovered, and then he lost all consciousness.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

When Owen regained his senses he found himself in a hammock in the sick bay of the frigate, with Mike and Nat close alongside of him.

"How do you feel, Mike?" asked Nat, who had not observed that Owen was awake.

"Mighty quare, but not sorry to find myself here. I hope Mr Hartley will come to soon. They seem to treat him as one of us."

"He ought to be with the officers aft," said Nat. "The mate is with them, I suppose, but I have not seen him."

"Shure he'll not fail to make himself out to be a big man somehow or other," said Mike. "He'll be after swaring he was the captain of the s.h.i.+p, although he will forget to say that it was through him that she was cast away."

The conversation was cut short by the appearance of the surgeon, who observed, as he glanced over the hammocks--

"I am glad to see you are coming round again, lads."

He stopped by Owen's side.

"Well, boy, how do you feel?" he inquired, in a kind tone.

"Very weak, sir," said Owen; "but all I want is food and water."

"You shall have an ample supply by-and-by, but in your present state you must take only a little at a time."

One of the sick bay attendants brought in three small basins of broth, from one of which the doctor fed Owen.

"Thank you, sir," said Owen, "though I think I might save you that trouble."

"You shall be welcome to do so next time," answered the doctor, smiling.

"What rating did you hold on board the s.h.i.+p you belonged to?" asked the surgeon.

"I was a pa.s.senger, although I did duty as a mids.h.i.+pman."

"Why, the captain described you as a s.h.i.+p's boy," observed the doctor.

"Arrah, shure, he'd not the captain at all, at all," exclaimed Mike, lifting up his head; "he was first mate until the raal capt'n died. But maybe he didn't say how the s.h.i.+p came to be cast away."

The doctor made no reply to the Irishman's remark. "I must see about this," he said to himself.

Owen and his companions remained in their hammocks for a couple of days, when they all declared themselves strong enough to get up. A large tub was brought them to wash in, and they were supplied by the purser with a seaman's suit apiece. Owen was thankful to put on clean clothing, as the garments he had on when wrecked were worn completely into rags.

Thus habited, although in the dress of a common seaman, he certainly did not look like an ordinary s.h.i.+p's boy. Still, he was allowed to remain forward with his two companions. As yet they had seen nothing of Mr Sc.o.o.nes, who was, they understood, occupying one of the officers' cabins aft.

Owen found that they were on board the "Sylvia," a thirty-six gun frigate, commanded by Captain Stanhope, on her way to Batavia. He had reason to suspect that the sand-bank on which they had been wrecked was further to the westward than Mr Sc.o.o.nes had supposed, and that had they not been picked up they would have perished long before reaching Java.

Having now sufficiently recovered to do duty, they were placed in a watch under the command of the second lieutenant, Mr Leigh. Owen concluded that this was as it should be. It did not occur to him that it would be of any use to explain who he was, and to endeavour to obtain a better position on board. He thought it but natural that he should be expected to work, and he was ready to do duty in any station in which he was placed. He supposed that his friend the doctor had forgotten him, or had not thought fit to carry out his intentions. Owen, who had been accustomed to go aloft while on board the "Druid," soon attracted the attention of Lieutenant Leigh by the activity and diligence with which he performed all his duties. The lieutenant at length spoke to him.

"If you go on as you have begun, you will become a smart seaman," he said, in a kind tone.

"Thank you, sir," answered Owen, touching his hat; "I will do my best."

"What is your name?" asked the lieutenant.

"Owen Hartley, sir."

"Owen Hartley!" repeated a tall mids.h.i.+pman, who was in Mr Leigh's watch, and who was standing near. He looked hard at Owen, but said no more.

It struck Owen, as he glanced at the mids.h.i.+pman, that he had seen him somewhere before, but he could not at first recollect where it was.

He puzzled his brains for some time. At last he inquired the mids.h.i.+pman's name of one of the men, pointing him out as he walked the deck.

"That is Mr Ashurst, a sprig of n.o.bility of some sort," was the answer.

"Take care you don't get foul of him. He carries on with a pretty high hand when he has the chance, especially if you go away with him in a boat, or he is in command on any occasion."

Shortly afterwards a squall was seen coming up, and the various necessary orders were issued for the shortening of sail. The mids.h.i.+pmen hurried to their posts, repeating the orders they had received. Mr Ashurst came forward, shouting out, as he did so, to the men.

"Yes, those are the very same tones," thought Owen, and he recognised the naval officer who, with his brother, had been thrown out of their carriage, and whom he had a.s.sisted in getting to rights again. "His brother called him Reginald. If this mids.h.i.+pman's name is the same I shall have no doubt about the matter."

Owen had not hitherto been stationed aloft, but one of the other boys was on the sick list.

"What are you doing on deck here, you idle young rascal?" exclaimed Mr Ashurst. "Quick, up the rigging and help to hand the fore royal."

Owen obeyed, and flew up aloft. The lighter sails were quickly handed.

The topsails were reefed, and the crew called down; the frigate stood on her proper course. The way Mr Ashurst addressed Owen convinced him that he was the person he supposed.

"I will take care not to give him any cause of offence, for he is evidently not an amiable person," thought Owen.

A few minutes afterwards the look-out at the masthead shouted--