THE SAVED FROM THE VESSEL.

91

woman--he stopped pulling, the men dragged her into the boat, and laid her in the stern-sheets.

"My man,' said the captain, 'I must pick up those who are in more danger than you.'

"All right, sir,' said I; 'I'm safe moored here.'

"There was one of our men hanging on the main-stay, and roaring like a bull, as he tried to climb by it out of the water. Had he only remained quiet, he would have done well enough. The boat took him off first, and the others of the people who were clinging about the masts and rigging, including the baker and myself. It then pulled on board the Victory with us; and I once more found a good dry plank between me and the salt water."

"Was the captain and admiral saved?"

Captain Waghorn was: he could not swim; but one of the seamen held him up. The admiral was drowned in his cabin. Captain Waghorn tried to acquaint him that the ship was sinking; but the heeling over of the ship had so jammed the doors of the cabin that they could not be opened."

"What became of the lieutenant of the watch and the carpenter?" "The lieutenant of the watch was drowned-and so indeed was the carpenter his body was taken up, I believe, by the same boat which picked up Lieutenant Durham.* When I went on board of the Victory, I saw the carpenter's body before the galley fire-some women were attempting to recover him, but he was quite dead. There was a strong westerly breeze, although the day was fine; and the wind made the water so rough that there was great danger of the boats getting entangled in the rigging and spars, when they came to take the men off, or more would have been saved."

"How many do you think were lost altogether?" inquired Anderson.

"We had our whole complement on board, eight hundred and sixtyfive men; and there were more than three hundred women on board, besides a great many Jews with slops and watches; as there always are, you know, when a ship is paid, and the men have any money to be swindled out of. I don't exactly know how many men were saved, but there was only one woman, which was the one I dragged out of the port. There was a great fat old bumboat woman, whom the

* Afterwards Admiral Sir Philip Durham.

sailors used to call the 'Royal George,'-she was picked up floating, for she was too fat to sink; but she had been floating the wrong way uppermost, and she was dead. There was a poor little child saved rather strangely. He was picked up by a gentleman who was in a wherry, holding on to the wool of a sheep which had escaped and was swimming. His father and mother were drowned, and the boy did not know their names; all that he knew was that his own name was Jack; so they christened him John Lamb, and the gentleman took care of him."

"Have you no idea how many men were saved, Turner?"

"I only know this, that the Admiralty ordered five pounds a man to be given to the seamen who were saved, as a recompense for the loss of their clothes, and I heard that only seventy-five claimed it; but how many marines were saved, or other people who were on board, I do not know; but perhaps, altogether, there might be two hundred or more,-for you see the seamen had the worst chance of being saved, as they were almost all down in the hold, or on the lower and main decks at their guns. A few days after the ship went down the bodies would come up, eight or ten almost the same time -rising to the top of the water so suddenly as to frighten people who were passing near. The watermen made a good thing of it; for, as the bodies rose, they took from them their shoe-buckles, money, and watches, and then towed them on shore to be buried."

"That lieutenant had much to answer for," observed Ben: "his false pride was the cause of it all.”

"It would seem so,-but God only knows," replied Anderson. "Come, my lads, the beer is out, and it's two bells in the middle watch. I think we had better turn in. Jack, what's to become of you?"

"Oh, I'll find a plank," said I.

"So you shall, boy, and a bed upon it," replied Ben;

come and

turn in with me, and don't you dream that the larboard lower deck ports are open."

CHAPTER XIV.

MY FATHER MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, HAVING LEFT HIS LEG, BUT NOT HIS TAIL, BEHIND HIM-MY FATHER IS PENSIONED OFF BY MY MOTHER AS WELL AS BY HIS COUNTRY.

ABOUT Six weeks after the intelligence of the battle of the Nile, as I was sweeping away from the steps the mud which had been left by the tide, a King's tender, that I had been watching as she came up the river, dropped her anchor in the stream, abreast of the hospital.

Shortly afterwards the lieutenant who commanded her pulled on shore in his boat, and landing at the steps, proceeded to the governor's house. The men having orders not to leave the boat, requested me to procure them some porter, which I did; and on my return with it, they informed me that they had come round from Portsmouth with sixty-three men, who had lost their limbs, or had been otherwise so severely wounded in the late action as to have been recommended for Greenwich.

I felt very anxious for the men to land, as it was possible that my father might be one of them. The lieutenant soon returned, jumped into the boat, and shoved off. I perceived that the disabled men were getting ready to land, hauling their chests and kits on deck. In about half an hour a boat full of them came to the steps. I ran down to assist; and as I held on to the gunnel of the boat, while they threw out their gang-board, the first person who stumped out was my father minus his left leg.

"Father!" cried I, half sorry and half pleased.

"Who calls me father?" replied he, looking at me.

don't mean to say that you're my boy Tom?"

"Yes, indeed!" said I.

"Why, you

"Ah! yes-I recollect your smile now. Why, what a big fellow you've grown!"

"It's four years since you left, father."

"Well! I suppose it is, since you say so,” replied he, taking me by the arm, and stumping a little of one side, when he said in a low tone, "I say, Jack, what became of the old woman? Did I settle her?" "Oh, no," replied I, laughing, "she was only shamming."

Shamming was she? Well! it's all the better-for she has been a little on my conscience, that's truth. Shamming? Heh! She

won't sham next time, if I fall foul of her. How does she get

on?"

"Oh, very well indeed."

"And how's your little sister? What's her name-Jenny lengthened at both ends? I never could recollect it, though I've often thought of her sweet little face."

"She's quite well, and as pretty and as good as ever."

Well, Tom, my boy, you stood by your father when he was in trouble, and now he'll stand by you. How does your mother treat you?"

"We get on pretty well-not over-fond of each other."

"Well, Tom, I've only one pin left; but I say," continued my father, with a wink of his eye, "I haven't left my tail behind me, 'cause it may be useful, you know. Now we must all go up to the governor of the hospital for inspection, and I suppose we shall be kept for some time; so you may run home and tell your mother that I've come back in a perfect good humour, and that it will be her fault if she puts me out-that's all."

"I will, father; and then I'll come to you at the hospital."

I ran home to communicate the important intelligence to my mother and to Virginia, who had as usual come from school for her dinner.

"Mother," says I, out of breath, "who do you think has come back?"

"Come back?" said she. "Back? Not your father?" "Yes," says I, "my father. I just left him."

My mother turned deadly pale, and dropped the hot iron from her hand, so as to spoil a frilled nightcap belonging to one of her lady customers. She staggered to a chair, and trembled all over. I really believe that had she been aware of his being about to return, she would have quitted Greenwich before his arrival; but now it was too late. Virginia had run for the salts as soon as she perceived that her mother was unwell, and as she smelt them she gradually recovered. At last she inquired how my father looked, and what he said.

I told her that he had lost his leg, and had been sent as a pensioner to the hospital; that he had looked very well, and that he had told me to say that "he was in a perfect good humour, and it would be her fault if she put him out of it; and that if she did

"Well, what then?" inquired my mother.