"Who are you?" said an officer, who saw him come over the side.

"An Englishman, and one of the few survivors of the ill-fated ship which blew up just now," he answered. "Well-nigh a thousand men who walked her decks in health and strength this morning are now in eternity."

"You are indeed fortunate in escaping then," said the Dutch officer, "and though we must consider you a prisoner, you will be treated with due courtesy on board this ship. I see that you are wounded, and badly it seems to me, so that you must be forthwith put under the surgeon's care."

Wenlock thanked him, and supported by a couple of men was carried below.

After this he knew nothing of what happened to him, for scarcely had he been placed on a bed than he fainted. When he came to consciousness he found the surgeon ready to administer some medicine, soon after which he fell asleep, nor did he awake again till daylight. He inquired eagerly what had occurred.

"You must not talk much," said the surgeon; "but this I will tell you, that we have had a very fierce engagement, and lost three of our stoutest ships; while, if the truth is known, you English have not been less sufferers. Depend on it, altogether between us, four or five thousand people have been killed: a sensible employment for human beings. Heu! while we,--a free Protestant people,--were fighting for liberty, you English were beguiled by your own traitorous sovereign, bribed by the King of France, to attack us."

The surgeon, Nicholas Van Erk, notwithstanding his remarks, treated Wenlock with the greatest kindness. They however gave him ample material for thought. In a short time the Dutch fleet arrived off the coast of Holland, and the injured ships proceeded to the chief naval ports to undergo repair. The _Marten Harptez_, the ship on board which Wenlock had found refuge, proceeded to Rotterdam.

"You are a prisoner, but I have got leave to receive you at my house,"

said Mynheer Van Erk; "and as I have a good many sick men to look after, I do not purpose again going to sea. In truth, fighting may be a very satisfactory amus.e.m.e.nt to people without brains; but I am a philosopher, and have seen enough of it to be satisfied that it is a most detestable occupation."

Wenlock found himself conveyed to a comfortable mansion in Rotterdam overlooking a ca.n.a.l; indeed, what houses do not overlook ca.n.a.ls in that city? He was very weak, for his wound had been severe,--more severe than he had supposed; and he was surprised that he should have been enabled to undergo so much exertion as he had done. Van Erk, indeed, told him that had he remained much longer in the water, he would probably have fainted from loss of blood, and been drowned.

"As you may become a wise man and enjoy life, being young, that would have been a pity," observed the philosopher; "but it depends how you spend the future whether you should or should not be justly congratulated on your escape."

The doctor's wife and only daughter,--the fair Frowline Gretchen,-- formed the only members of the surgeon's household, with their serving maid Barbara. They, fortunately for Wenlock, were not philosophers, but turned their attention to household affairs, and watched over him with the greatest care. He, poor fellow, felt very sad and forlorn. For many days he could only think with deep grief of the untimely loss of his brave father. In time, however, he began to meditate a little also about himself. All his prospects appeared blighted. The friends who might have spoken of his brave conduct in the fight were dead. He had hoped to obtain wealth, and to return and marry Mary Mead. He had not a groat remaining in the world. Never in his life before had he been so downhearted Gretchen observed his melancholy.

"You should not thus grieve for being a prisoner," she observed; "many brave men have been so, and the time will come when you will be set at liberty."

Wenlock then told her how he had lost his father, and how his own hopes of advancement had been blighted. "Have you no one then who cares for you?" she asked, in a tone of sympathy; "no one in your native land to whom you desire to return?"

"Yes," said Wenlock; and he then told her of his engagement to the fair Quakeress.

"Ah! I am not surprised at that," observed the Dutch girl, with a sigh.

After this, though as kind as usual, Wenlock observed that she was somewhat more distant in her manner to him than she had been at first.

Considering that he was a prisoner, his time pa.s.sed very pleasantly.

Having given his word to the authorities and to his host that he would not attempt to escape, he was allowed to go about that picturesque town as much as he pleased. Month after month the war continued, and he remained a prisoner. His affection, however, for Mary Mead had rather increased by absence than diminished; and fearing that she might forget him, he at length wrote her a letter, entreating her to remain faithful, and promising, as soon as he should be able, to return to England and follow any course she might advise. In vain he waited for an answer to this letter; week after week pa.s.sed by, and none came.

"She has forgotten you," said Gretchen one day, observing him look very sad.

Wenlock started! He was thinking the same thing. "I know not," he answered; "I have heard that women are fickle."

"I did not say that," observed Gretchen; "but if you chose to disregard the wishes of one you professed to love, I am not surprised that she should at length have dismissed you from her thoughts. I do not say she has, but it is possible."

Wenlock had for some time felt ashamed of being idle; for though his host might have received payment for his support from the government, yet that, he was sure, could not be sufficient to cover the expense to which he was put. He expressed his wishes to his kind host.

"A very sensible remark," observed the surgeon, "and as you have now recovered from your wound, and regained your strength, it is proper that you should be employed. I have a brother, a merchant, trading with Surinam. He may possibly give you employment. You speak several languages, and write a good hand. You will, I doubt not, soon be ranked among his princ.i.p.al clerks, if you have a good knowledge of accounts."

"If he will try me, I will do my best," answered Wenlock.

The next day he was installed as a clerk in the office of Peter Van Erk, one of the princ.i.p.al merchants in the city. Wenlock had an apt.i.tude for business of which he had not been aware. He took a positive pleasure in his work, and soon attracted the observation of his quick-sighted employer.

The kind surgeon was highly pleased. "You do credit to my recommendation, Christison," he observed; "you will soon win the confidence of my brother, and will then be on the fair way to making your fortune."

Time pa.s.sed by. Wenlock made himself so useful that in a short time his employer agreed to pay him a handsome salary. When peace was declared, therefore, he felt that it would be folly to return to England, where he had no home and no one from whom he had a right to demand a.s.sistance.

He had forfeited William Mead's regard by acting contrary to his advice, while from Lord Ossory he might possibly fail to receive further patronage. He had heard enough of the fickleness of those in authority, and he did not expect to be better treated than others. He therefore continued to work away steadily as a merchant's clerk in the house of Van Erk and Company, of Rotterdam.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"Come with my mother and me to a meeting to which we are going this evening!" said Gretchen, when Wenlock returned home at a somewhat earlier hour than usual, for he still lived at the house of the kind surgeon. "Some Englishmen arrived yesterday in Rotterdam, and they are about to address the public on some important religious matters. They are said to be very earnest and devoted people, and one of them speaks Dutch perfectly. Their names I cannot remember. Those short, curious, English names quickly escape my memory."

Wenlock at once agreed to Gretchen's request; indeed he had no longer the heart to refuse her anything she asked. It might have been just possible that, had he learned that the fair Mary had forgotten him and accepted another suitor, he would have had no great difficulty in consoling himself. Yet it was not so at present. He always treated Gretchen with kindness and respect, but was fully convinced in his own mind that he never allowed a warmer feeling to enter his bosom. The large public hall in which meetings of the sort were generally held was nearly filled by the time the Van Erk party arrived. They, however, were shown to seats near the platform whence the speakers were to address the people. Many more persons crowded in, till the hall was quite full. Just then five gentlemen appeared on the platform, advancing with slow and dignified steps. A curious and very mixed feeling agitated Wenlock's heart when among them he recognised Master William Penn, and his father's old friend, Captain Mead. The thought of his father rushed into his mind, and a tear filled his eye. He thought, however, also of Mary, and he longed to ask her father about her; yet, at that moment, to do so was impossible. As the speakers appeared, the whole hall was hushed in silence. At length William Penn offered up a prayer in Dutch. He then introduced a tall thin, careworn man, as George Fox, who addressed the people in English, Penn interpreting as he spoke. He urged on them in forcible language to adopt the principles which the Friends had accepted, and many were moved to tears while he spoke. William Mead then came forward, but said little. Another Englishman, Robert Barclay, then addressed the a.s.semblage. He was followed by Penn himself; who, in calm yet forcible language, placed the simple truths of the gospel before his hearers. Wenlock's feelings were greatly moved. His reason too was convinced. He had had a severe lesson. He had declined to accept those principles, and sought for worldly honour and distinction instead. The result had been the loss of his beloved father, he himself escaping with life almost by a miracle.

"Those are old friends I little expected to meet again," said Wenlock to Gretchen and her mother. "I must speak to them now, lest they leave the city to-morrow and I may miss them."

As the a.s.sembly broke up, the speakers descended into the body of the hall, and Wenlock found himself standing before William Penn and Captain Mead. Neither of them knew him, though they looked at him kindly, having observed the deep attention with which he had listened to their discourses. "I am afraid, Master Mead, I am forgotten," said Wenlock, feeling that he must speak at last. The Quaker started, and examined his countenance narrowly. "What!" he exclaimed, "art thou the son of my ancient comrade? Verily I thought that he and thou were long since numbered with the dead. How is it, young man? Has thy father escaped also?"

"Alas! no," said Wenlock; and he gave a brief account of his father's death.

"And hast thou been content to pa.s.s so long a time without communicating with thy old friends?" said Mead, in a reproachful tone.

"No, indeed. I wrote to Mistress Mary," said Wenlock; "but she replied not to my letter."

"My daughter received no letter from thee, young man," said Mead; "and I will not deny that she grieved at the thought of thy loss."

"O Master Mead, I wish that I had written oftener, till one of my letters had reached you or her," exclaimed Wenlock; "but I thought that she had discarded me."

"I see; I see! And thou wast too proud to run the risk of being chid further for thy youthful folly," said the Quaker.

"You are right, I confess," answered Wenlock. "But tell me, how is she?

Where is she? Would I could once more see her and explain my conduct."

"Perchance thou mayst see her sooner than thou dost expect," said Mead.

"Come to-morrow morning to the house where we lodge, and we will talk further of this matter."

"What! is she in Rotterdam?" exclaimed Wenlock, in a voice trembling with agitation.

"She accompanied us thus far on our journey; but I know not whether she will go farther. I must not let thee see her, however, to-night, as, believing thee dead, it might perchance somewhat agitate her; for I do not deny, Wenlock, that thou wast once dear to us all. But whether thou canst sufficiently explain thy conduct since thou didst part from us, to regain thy lost place in our regard, I cannot now determine."

"Oh, I trust I can," exclaimed Wenlock, all his affection for Mary reviving immediately at the thought of again meeting her.

William Penn received the young man very kindly, and then for some minutes spoke to him with deep seriousness of his past life. "Thou canst not serve G.o.d and Mammon, Friend Wenlock," he said. "Thou didst attempt to do so, and Mammon left thee struggling for thy life on the ocean. More on that matter I need not say."

Wenlock, on reaching home, found that his friends had been deeply impressed by the addresses they had heard. They were also much surprised to find that two of the speakers were known to him.

"Indeed, one of them," he said, "is a very old friend; and should he invite me to accompany him to England, I should wish to do so."

"What! and leave us all here, not to return?" said Gretchen.

"It is right that I should tell the truth at once," thought Wenlock. He did so.

"And is this English girl very, very pretty," asked Gretchen; and her voice trembled slightly.