Ronald was in attendance on his father in his cabin. The boatswain had been more hurt than he supposed; but he did his utmost to conceal his suffering from his son.

The shout was heard: "All hands on the quarter-deck!"

The captain was about to address the crew.

Rolf Morton tried to rise, but he soon found that he could not. "Go, Ronald, and hear what the captain has to say. It will be something pleasant, I doubt not," he said, pressing his boy's hand. "Come and tell me when you are dismissed."

Ronald sprang up the hatchway. The men were mustering aft. The captain and all the officers stood on the quarter-deck--not as usual, in those bright and shining uniforms, but in the dress in which they had fought, most of them still bearing about their persons the marks of the battle.

"My lads, I have called you aft to thank you for the gallant way in which you have fought this ship, and captured an enemy with more men, more guns, and of larger tonnage than ourselves," he began. "I do from my heart thank you; and our king and countrymen will thank you, and you may well be proud of what you have done. I wish that I could reward you as you deserve; but when all have done their duty it is difficult to pick out any for especial notice. Still there is one man who much helped us in capturing the enemy. That is the boatswain. He caught, and kept him, by lashing his bowsprit to our mainmast, and by his advice we blew open the stern ports which so mainly contributed to our success.

His son, too, saved my life, and afterwards saved the life of Mr Glover, and was, with him, the first on board the prize. The boatswain will, I hope, receive his reward hereafter; but as I have the means of showing my appreciation of his son's gallantry, I gladly do so at once: I have therefore rated him as a midshipman on board this ship. I am sure that no one will think that I have done more for him than he deserves. Come aft, Mr Ronald Morton, and receive the welcome of your new messmates."

Ronald came forward almost with a bound, though perfectly unconscious that he was moving more rapidly than usual. The wish of his heart was accomplished. His countenance beamed with satisfaction, and he frankly put out his hand towards the midshipmen and the other members of their berth. They all in turns took it and shook it warmly; but none grasped it more heartily than did young Glover.

"I must thank you for myself, Morton," he exclaimed, in a tone which showed that he spoke from his heart. "If it had not been for you I should have been among the missing, to a certainty."

Morton's own heart was too full to answer. Numberless emotions were working in his bosom. He felt a proud satisfaction at having obtained the rank for which he was conscious he was fitted; he sincerely rejoiced at having been the means of saving his captain from a severe wound, if not from death; and scarcely less so at having prevented Glover from being drowned. All these feelings kept him silent: but his silence was understood; and perhaps no one felt more pleased at seeing him on the quarter-deck than did Captain Courtney himself.

"Now back to your duty, my lads," he exclaimed; "we have plenty of work before us."

Three hearty cheers burst unpremeditatedly from the throats of the crew--and then in high spirits they separated to their respective duties. The work was accomplished, as the captain knew it would be, all the better for this little interruption.

Ronald hurried below. He wanted to be the first to tell his father of his good fortune, as he called it.

Rolf Morton was less surprised than he expected. "I was certain it would be so some day, if your life was spared," he observed. "And now, my boy, that your foot is on the first ratline, mount upwards by your own exertions. Be thankful to others who help you, but trust to yourself for success."

Ronald had got his father to select a little fellow called Bobby Doull, as his boy, whom he had, when he first came on board, taken under his protection.

Bobby had been sent to sea from a workhouse. If not an orphan he was in the condition of one; for his father, who was a seaman, had deserted him, and had not, since he was an infant, been heard of. Ronald had, at first, frequently to do battle in his cause; but he at length taught the other boys to respect him, and to let Bobby alone.

Bobby did his best to repay the kindness he had received, by his constant attention to the wants of the wounded boatswain.

Ronald had now to mess with the midshipmen. One of his first duties was to visit the prize, as soon as the boats had been got ready to transfer the prisoners to the "Thisbe."

Glover had insisted on lending him a uniform, jacket, and dirk, till he could obtain a suit of his own.

Ronald did not hesitate about accepting the offer; and, as Doull told the boatswain, he looked every inch a midshipman.

Very little had been done when Ronald returned to the prize towards getting her into order; and as he looked fore and aft along the decks, it seemed scarcely possible that she could ever be put in a condition at sea, to make sail, so as to reach a British port in safety. Some of her crew were already mustered on deck, but others were keeping below. He was accordingly directed to take a party of men round the decks to send them up. As he pa.s.sed it, he looked into the midshipman's berth, where a boy, whose life he had probably been the means of preserving at the time of boarding, still lay.

The French midshipman recognised him immediately. "Ah! come in, my friend!" he exclaimed, in broken English: "I want to recompense you for what you did for me: but--they told me that you were a ship's boy, and now I see that you are of the same rank as myself."

"I was a ship's boy when I found you under the masts, but now I am a midshipman," answered Ronald. "But tell me your name--I shall be glad to help you in any way I can."

"My name--ah--they call me Alfonse Gerardin," answered the French midshipman. "I am obliged to you for your kindness. A prisoner is little able to requite it. Perhaps I may some day--as I should wish to do."

"I have done nothing to deserve even thanks," said Ronald. "But I must not stay. I will come and see you again as soon as I can."

Mr Strickland, the first lieutenant of the "Thisbe," being badly wounded, Mr Calder, the second, was directed to take charge of the prize.

Robert Rawson, an old master's mate, was ordered to go as his second in command, with Glover and Morton as midshipmen, and a master's a.s.sistant called Twigg.

Ronald wished to have remained to look after his father; but Rolf would not hear of it.

"You'll be better in another ship, away from me, boy," he remarked.

"The doctor and Bobby Doull will look after me. I shall return to my duty in a few days--never fear!"

The peculiar talents of the prize-master of the "Concorde," honest Tom Calder, were now brought into full play. Head and hand were busily employed from morning till night, and neither grew weary. Where the hardest work was to be done, there Tom's cheery voice was heard and his helping hand was to be found, and before the two, difficulties, at first deemed insurmountable, vanished like magic.

Tom had naturally a strong fellow feeling for Ronald. He remembered his own annoyances under similar circ.u.mstances, and he fancied that Ronald would have to undergo the same. He had, hitherto, scarcely spoken to Ronald, but no sooner did he take the command of the "Concorde," than he singled him out to superintend any work requiring more than usual care and judgment.

Ronald in no way disappointed him; everybody, indeed, on board the prize, worked well, and with a will, and in a wonderfully short s.p.a.ce of time jury-masts were rigged, and sails were ready for hoisting.

It was evening; the two frigates lay within a few hundred fathoms of each other: the "Thisbe," from having her foremasts standing, had a far wider range of vision than her prize. "The 'Thisbe' is signalling us, sir," said Morton to Mr Calder.

"Get the signal-book, and see what she is saying," was the answer.

The meaning of the signals was soon ascertained.

"A sail in the south-west," Morton read; "An enemy--Prepare for action."

"That's just like him," exclaimed Mr Calder; "if the stranger was a seventy-four he would prepare to fight her. It is to be hoped, though, that she is only another frigate, and then, in spite of the loss of our masts, we may be able to give a good account of her."

Ronald was ready enough to fight, but could not help thinking that they just then had had enough of it, and therefore hoped that the stranger might prove a friend.

Some time must elapse before the point could be ascertained, and during the interval every effort was made to get sail on the two ships, not for the purpose of flying, but to enable them the better to manoeuvre, should fighting be the order of the day.

At length Ronald went below to s.n.a.t.c.h a mouthful of food, and took the opportunity of paying a visit to the wounded midshipman, Alfonse Gerardin. He had been placed in the gun-room with the rest of the French officers; he lifted up his head as Ronald entered the cabin.

After returning the salutation, he remained silent, and then he exclaimed, somewhat bitterly, "Ah, how different are our lots! you have gained a victory, have come out of the battle unhurt, and have been placed on the first step of the ladder, up which you may climb to the highest--while here I lie, a prisoner badly wounded, and, alas! have just discovered that I have lost the only friend I had in the world."

"Oh, you are mistaken; I am sure that I have many, and so would you if you proved them," said Ronald, in a cheerful tone. "You are wounded and ill; when you recover you will be in better spirits; but tell me, who is the friend whose loss you mourn?"

"He was the second lieutenant of this ship, and he was killed early in the action with you," answered young Gerardin, with a sigh. "He was a brave man. I loved him as a son loves his father, and for long I thought he was my father. Only just before we were going into action did he tell me that I should find all the particulars about myself in a box, in a house where we lived when we were on sh.o.r.e, near Brest. I thought at first that he was jesting, and asked no questions, and it was only after he was killed that I believed he spoke the truth. Poor dear Pierre Gerardin! you were always kind and good to me, and I shall never see you again."

The young foreigner gave way to his grief with a vehemence which somewhat astonished Ronald, accustomed to the more phlegmatic temperaments of the north. He tried to comfort him, but in vain, and when the surgeon came he intimated to Ronald that he had better leave him, as talking to a stranger seemed to agitate him in an extraordinary degree.

"He seems very sorry for the loss of his guardian, but he is an odd fellow, and I don't quite like the look of his countenance," said Ronald to himself, as he left the cabin.

As soon as he reached the deck he looked out to ascertain what progress the stranger had made. Her courses were already seen from the deck, appearing above the horizon. The work on board the two frigates was going forward as energetically as ever. Still there was yet much to be done before they could be put in good fighting order. The "Thisbe" was by far the most advanced of the two, still the bravest on board would rather have avoided than sought a fight just then. On came the stranger.

"Well, Morton, just say what you think of her?" said d.i.c.ky Glover, handing a telescope to Ronald; "there's a mighty Frenchified look about those topsails."

"I have not much experience in the matter," answered Ronald, modestly; "but she looks very like the 'Concorde,' as she appeared when standing out toward us."

"That's what Mr Calder and the rest think," observed Glover. "Well, we are ready for the fellow whoever he may be; and for my part, I'd sooner blow our prize up into the sky than let her be taken from us; wouldn't you, Morton?"

Ronald was not quite so sure of that, and he suspected that d.i.c.ky himself, if put to the test, might change his mind.