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Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 46 |
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_ Chapter Forty Six They knew in the midshipman's little company that night how Michael Terry had died, and the frank-hearted lads joined in saying they were glad he had died from his fall, and not from a wound given by an English blade. And somehow, though it was known to all now, not a voice uttered a word about his treachery. The terrible fate that had overtaken him had come as a veil over all that. For the next few days, as they lay there to leeward of the rock, Syd and Roylance used to look up at the colours flying from the flagstaff, and feel something like regret that they were no longer living in the gap; but there was endless work to do. The captain had transferred his less fortunate brother officer and crew to the French frigate, and on board both vessels the knotting, splicing, and repairing that went on was enormous, while the carpenters and their mates had the busiest of times. One of the first things done after hospital tents had been rigged up in the gap, was for all the wounded to be transferred to the shore; the garrison was strengthened, provisions and stores landed, a surgeon put in charge, and the _Sirius_ with the prize set sail for the nearest British possession to land their prisoners. In a week they were back off the rock, and after communications, sailed on for Saint Jacques; the French frigate, in spite of being minus one mast, making fair way under the jury spar set up, and, thanks to the vigorous efforts made in the way of repairs, in excellent fighting trim, and with her crew eager to make up in the end for the loss of their own ship. Syd had been out of the naval engagement, but he was now to witness a bold attack made upon a fortified port--a successful attack, the batteries being pretty well demolished, and the force of sailors and marines that was landed carrying all before them, so that in one short day the British flag waved over the town of Saint Jacques, and the island of La Haute became one of the possessions of the British Crown. After refitting, the _Sirius_ did good work in the western seas for two years before she was ordered home, where upon the captain landing at Shoreport, it was known that he was promoted to the command of a line-of-battle ship, while sundry honours were ready for his officers, notably for Mr Dallas, who had long been well and strong. "Yes, Strake," said Roylance, "promotion for every one but the poor midshipman." "Wait a bit, sir, wait a bit," said the bronzed old fellow. "'Tain't fault o' gover'ment, but fault o' natur'. Soon as you and Mr Belton here grows big enough you'll be lufftenants, and then captains; and if that swab of a boy of mine minds his eye he'll be a bo'sun." "You'll lay up now, I suppose?" said Roylance. "Me, sir? me lay up?" cried the boatswain, indignantly. "Not the man. No, sir, I hope to sail yet with young Capen Belton when the old capen's a admiral, as he's sure to be afore long." "Seems a long time to wait for promotion," said Syd. "Awful, sir, to a young gent who has only been two years at sea. But-- whish, sir! Look!" Syd, who was leaning over the side with Roylance, gazing at the town, started with pleasure, for in the stern-sheets of the barge, which was coming back from shore with the captain, who was returning to take leave of his officers before quitting the _Sirius_ for good, was the grey-whiskered, florid face of Admiral Belton. He came on board, bowing to the salutes given him, and then looking round sharply, he exclaimed-- "Now then, where's that doctor?" "Here, uncle," cried Syd, merrily. "Why! Well! Hang the boy, I shouldn't have known you. You have grown! Shake hands, you dog! I'm proud of you. I know all about it. I say," he said with a chuckle, "don't want to be a doctor now, eh?" "Saving your honour's presence," growled a deep voice, "I dunno what we should ha' done if he hadn't been one." "Hah! bo'sun, you there. Glad to see you. Do you follow my brother to his new ship?" "Ay, ay, sir; please goodness, and Mr Belton here, too." "No," said Captain Belton, quietly. "My son is going for a cruise with Commander Dallas in the sloop-of-war to which he has been appointed." "Then, saving your honour's presence, and thinking of you as the best captain I ever served, if it could be managed, I'd like to sail under Mr Dallas too, and I'll take my boy." "You shall, Strake; and I'm very glad." So six months after Sydney Belton joined the sloop _Ariel_, and this time saw active, service in the eastern seas. [THE END] _ |
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