"Why, they had to get fifteen or sixteen wounded men away," I cried, and then winced.

"And serve 'em right," said the doctor. "Here, Bob!"

_Bang, bang_!

"What's that?"

"Bigley's signal; and by the way, doctor, the poor lad is wounded too.

Come along and see."

"No, I'll go," said the doctor. "You are not fit."

"But I'm going all the same," cried my father; and I saw them go off along the cliff path.

"Here, Mars Sep," said our foreman, "I'm going to climb up yonder to see what's going on; will you come?"

"I don't think I can do it," I said, "but I'll try;" and with the help of his hand now and then I managed to climb up the west slope of the Gap right to the very top, where, in the bright sunny morning, we saw a sight that filled us with horror, for a couple of well-filled boats were rowing towards us from the side of a large sloop of war, from whose port-holes projected a row of guns that seemed to threaten fresh destruction to our coast.

But all at once we saw a flag run fluttering up to the peak and then blow out clear, with the result that the boats began to alter their course, turning completely round and rowing back to the man-of-war.

As they were going back we could see sail after sail drop down from the yards of the sloop; and as the boats reached her and were hoisted up to the davits, she began to move swiftly towards the west, her canvas growing broader minute by minute till she pa.s.sed out of our sight.

"Why, she's gone," said our foreman. "Is she coming back?"

"I hope not," I cried. "Look!" I pointed towards the east over a depression in the Gap side through which we could catch a glimpse of the sea, and there in the bright sunlight we could make out a couple of vessels crowding on under all sail; and, little as I knew of such matters, I was able to say that one was a small frigate and the other a man-of-war cutter that looked very much like our old friend.

"After the Frenchman--eh?" said our foreman, gazing hard, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as his cheeks flushed and he seemed to forget his wounds.

"Well, then, all I can say is, that I hope they'll be caught."

"Let's get down," I said. "See, there's the doctor bringing Bigley Uggleston back on his pony. I wonder how he is."

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

A FIGHT AT SEA.

We descended slowly and painfully, to get down in time to receive a severe scolding from the doctor, while my father confirmed the news, as Bigley was half-lifted off for Bob to mount the pony and go off for help.

The British ships had had news brought them of the attack, and had started at daybreak in full chase, and an hour afterwards all who could climbed to where we could catch sight of the sea, to find out the meaning of the firing that was going on.

It was plain enough. A large three-masted lugger was in full flight with the frigate after her, and sending shot after shot without effect, till one of them went home, cutting the lugger's princ.i.p.al mast in two, and her largest sail fell down like a broken wing, leaving the lugger helpless on the surface. Then a boat was lowered, and we saw her going at full speed, pulled as she was by a dashing man-o'-war crew, and we watched anxiously to see if there was going to be a fresh fight. But no; the man-o'-war long-boat pulled alongside and the men leaped aboard to send up the English colours directly, while the frigate went on in full chase of the French sloop, and we soon after saw that the lugger was being steered towards the mouth of the Gap.

But meantime the doctor had been busy with poor Bigley, who had been laid upon a soft bed of heather to form his couch while his wound was examined.

"Why, you cowardly young scoundrel!" he cried cheerfully, "the bullet is embedded in the muscles of the calf of your leg, and it came in behind.

You dog: you were running away."

"So would you have run away, doctor," I said warmly, "if half a dozen Frenchmen were after you and firing."

"Never, sir!" cried the doctor fiercely, as he probed the wound; "an Englishman never runs. There, I can feel it--that's the fellow."

"Oh, doctor!" groaned poor Bigley.

"Hurt?" said Doctor Chowne. "Ah, well! I suppose it does. And so you, an Englishman, ran away--eh?"

"English boy," said Bigley grinding his teeth with pain, while I felt the big drops gathering on my forehead, and was wroth with the doctor for being so cool and brutal.

"English boy!--eh?" he said. "Well, but boys are the stuff of which you make young men. Ha, ha, ha! What do you think of that?"

"You're half-killing me, doctor!" groaned poor Bigley.

"Not I, my lad. I've got the rascal; come out, sir! There you are--see there! What do you think of that for a nasty piece of French lead to be sticking in your leg? If I hadn't fished it out it would have been there making your leg swell and fester, and we should have had no end of a game."

As he spoke he held out the bullet he had extracted at the end of a long narrow pair of forceps; and, as Bigley looked at it with failing eyes, he turned away with a shudder and whispered to me, as I supported his head upon my arm:

"I'm glad Bob Chowne isn't here to see what a miserable coward I am, Sep. Don't tell him--there's a good chap!"

I was about to answer, but his eyes closed and he fainted dead away.

"Poor lad!" said the doctor kindly. "Why, he was as brave as a lion. I talked nonsense to keep up his spirits and make him indignant while I hurt him in that cruel way. Poor lad! Poor lad!"

"Doctor Chowne," I cried with the tears in my eyes, "I felt just now as if I hated you!"

"Just you say that again!" he cried, laughing grimly. "You forget, you young dog, that I have you by the hip. You are my patient, and I have as tight a hold of you as an old baron in the good old times had of his prisoners. There! He is coming to, and I sha'n't have to hurt him any more to-day."

"Will he have to lose his leg, doctor?" I whispered.

"What! Because of that hole? Pshaw, boy! The bullet is out, and nature has begun already to pour out her healing stuff to make it grow together. I'll make him as sound as a roach before I have done. Now we must see to getting our wounded under cover. I didn't think the Gap would ever be turned into such a hospital as this. Why, Sep, it's quite a treat to get such a morning's practice in surgery. There! I'll go and wash my hands, and I must have some breakfast or I shall starve."

Breakfast! Starve! At such a time as this! I looked at him in horror, and he read my thoughts and laughed.

"Why, you young goose!" he exclaimed, "do you think I can afford to be miserable and have the horrors because other people suffer? Not a bit of it. I'm obliged to be well and hearty and--unfeeling--eh? Ah, well, Sep! I'm not such an unfeeling brute as I seem; and I'd give fifty pounds now to be able to find those poor fellows breakfast and shelter at once."

The doctor was able to supply his patients with refreshments without the expenditure of fifty pounds, for Mother Bonnet had just come up to announce that she had been back to the cottage to find it untouched, after going away in alarm when the Frenchmen landed, and she said that she had the fire lit and coffee and tea on the way for every one who wanted it.

"Mother Bonnet, you're a queen!" cried the doctor; and then turning to me: "Rather strange that they should have spared the cottage and old Jonas's goods, eh, Sep? There's something behind all this."

We were not long in finding out what was behind all this. I had my own suspicions without the doctor's, and they were soon confirmed by the coming of the big three-masted lugger, which was brought close in by the man-o'-war's men, who landed with a lieutenant at their head, and came up the Gap to see our condition.

He was a bright, manly fellow, and my father and he became friends at once, while he was quite humorous in his indignation.

"The cowardly scoundrels!" he cried. "Oh, if we had only been here!

How delighted my Jacks would have been to have a go at them!"

"Do you think so?" said my father smiling.

"Think so, sir? Why, my boys have been half mad with disappointment.