ARRIVAL OF A JERSEY PRIVATEER — AN INVITATION
SENT TO THE OFFICERS — NORAH
AND ELLEN MEET A STRANGER ON THEIR WALK HOME — ATTEMPT
TO CARRY OFF
NORAH — SHE IS RESCUED — FRUITLESS
SEARCH FOR THE RUFFIANS — ARRIVAL OF THE
CAPTAIN AND LIEUTENANTS OF THE PRIVATEER — THE
MERCHANT’S HOUSE AND
GROUNDS — A BANQUET — CAPTAIN DUPIN
REQUESTS THE PLEASURE OF A VISIT FROM
HIS WATERFORD FRIENDS — A DANCE ON BOARD
THE PRIVATEER — AN UNPLEASANT
SURPRISE.
Just after the young ladies had set
off on their walk to visit Mrs Massey, a Dungarvon
hooker arrived at the quay, and her skipper brought
the intelligence that a sloop of war had anchored that
morning in the mouth of the harbour. She carried
eighteen guns, for he had counted nine on a side;
having boarded her to dispose of some of his fish,
he was sure that he could not be mistaken. When
he was more than half-way up the river, he added,
the wind being light, a gig had passed him; but though
he looked everywhere, he had not again seen her.
He believed that she belonged to the sloop, as an
officer was seated in the stern, and she had the appearance
of a man-of-war’s boat; but of that he could
not be certain.
Mr Ferris had invited a party to dinner,
and as he always wished to pay attention to naval
officers, he immediately despatched a letter by a
fast rowing-boat, requesting the company of the commander
and officers of the sloop at the intended banquet.
Mr Ferris received a letter in reply, signed “Jean
Dupin, commander of the Orestes, private ship
of war,” observing that Mr Ferris had been misinformed
as to the character of the vessel he had the honour
to command, she not being a king’s ship, but
belonging to Jersey, and the property of a firm with
which he was probably well acquainted, Messrs. Saint
Croix and Cie; and he was unwilling to sail under
false colours — but that if Mr Ferris still
desired his company, he and his officers would have
infinite pleasure in availing themselves of his hospitable
invitation. Mr Ferris immediately sent back
the boat, assuring Captain Dupin that it would afford
him the greatest possible satisfaction to receive him,
and any of his lieutenants and junior officers who
might be able to accompany him.
“Ellen will be disappointed
when she finds that the ship is not a man-of-war,”
he said to himself. “She takes much interest
in the navy; she saw a good specimen of the naval
officer in that gentlemanly and pleasing young lieutenant,
Norman Foley, who was occasionally at our house in
Dublin when his ship lay off Kingstown, and she has
consequently an idea that all naval officers are like
him. However, many of the Jersey privateers
are commanded and officered by gentlemen of good family
in the island, and I doubt not that Captain Dupin will
prove an agreeable addition to our party. I wish
that Captain Tracy were well enough to be present;
he and Captain Dupin might find that they were old
acquaintances, and would, at all events, have many
subjects in common to talk about.”
We must now return to Norah and Ellen.
They hastened their steps, for the sun had set, and
darkness was stealing over the landscape, and unless
they hurried on they would scarcely have light sufficient
to see their way through the narrow and dimly illuminated
street, and might perhaps meet with drunken men who
would cause them annoyance.
“I am pretty well known here,
so that it is not likely any one will insult us; but
it would be unpleasant to encounter strangers,”
said Ellen. “I am very sorry, Norah, for
it was my fault remaining so long listening to Mrs
Massey’s dreadful accounts of the O’Harrall
family. I was much interested, and I have taken
it into my head that Mr Massey may be able to regain
his ancestral property. You know I am somewhat
romantic, and I should be so delighted to see you mistress
of Tramore Castle.”
“I am afraid there is very little
hope of that,” said Norah; “nor am I ambitious,
but shall be content to enjoy with my dear Owen the
limited fortune we shall be able to muster.”
They had just reached the most secluded
part of the road, when they heard footsteps behind
them; and Norah, looking round, saw a man following,
his figure shrouded in a Spanish cloak, a broad-brimmed
hat ornamented with a feather drawn down over his
brow, partly concealing his countenance. The
end of a scabbard which appeared beneath his cloak
showed that he was a gentleman, while his firm though
hurried step gave proof of what was of still more
consequence, that he was perfectly sober. As
he passed them he lifted his hat, an act which served
rather to conceal further than to show his features.
After going on a short distance he stopped; then,
facing about, walked rapidly towards them.
“Miss Tracy,” he exclaimed,
“I have been impelled by an irresistible power
to endeavour to see you, and I am more fortunate than
I expected. Will your fair friend favour me by
going on a few paces before us, while I speak what
I wish to reach no other ear but yours?”
“Who is this gentleman?”
exclaimed Ellen. “Is it your wish that
I should do as he requests?”
“Oh no, no! do not leave me
on any account,” whispered Norah, tightly grasping
Ellen’s arm. “Surely you must be
under a mistake, sir, and take me for some one else,”
she continued, turning to the stranger.
“Miss Tracy, your features,
your voice, your figure, are all too indelibly impressed
upon my mind,” he replied. “Do not
you remember the last words I spoke to you ere we
parted?”
Norah, on hearing this, was still
more convinced than at first that the stranger was
under a mistake. And yet the stranger had addressed
her by name! Could he be out of his senses?
“Know you not that you have
inspired the deepest and most devoted affection, which
death alone can destroy?” he continued.
“To meet you again I have gone through difficulties
and dangers which would otherwise have appeared insuperable;
and can you be so cold-hearted as to regard with indifference
a love so ardent and true?”
His voice as he spoke had more of
a tone of anger than affection in it.
“I must not listen to such language
as this,” answered Norah, the idea of who the
person was now flashing across her mind; “I beg
that you will not stop my friend and me, as we are
anxious to return home without delay.”
“I must and will be heard,”
exclaimed the stranger, attempting to grasp Norah’s
hand. “Come with me; I offer you a heart
which loves you to desperation, and mine you must
be. I have the means of enforcing my request — if
your friend interferes, she must take the consequences,
and will be compelled to accompany you.”
“You are mad, sir, to suppose
for a moment that I would consent to such a proposal;
let me and my friend go, I entreat you.”
“For your refusal I was prepared,”
exclaimed the stranger, “but it will not avail
you;” and putting a silver whistle to his mouth,
he blew it shrilly. It was answered from a distance,
and Ellen, looking in the direction from which the
sound came, saw two mounted men, each with a led horse,
approaching. Ellen now gave way to her fears,
and uttered loud shrieks for help. Norah felt
all her energies paralysed by the threatened act of
violence, and could only cling to Ellen’s arm
and murmur, “Don’t leave me! don’t
leave me!”
A wall rather too high to be leaped
over intervened between them and the horsemen.
They had to make a circuit to reach a gate which opened
into the road before they gained it. The rattle
of wheels was heard, and loud shouts of laughter between
snatches of song. Just then Ellen saw a line
of cars, the horses at full speed, coming along the
road; the stranger saw them too, and seizing Norah
round the waist, endeavoured to drag her to the wall;
but Ellen and she clung frantically to each other,
Ellen again and again shrieking loudly for help.
On came the cars; some men in seamen’s dresses
sprang from the first, one of them shouting out, “Shure,
it’s the young mistress! Be alive, and
dale smartly with the outrageous thief of the world
who’s dared to lay hands on her;” and,
joined by a dozen or more men from the other cars,
armed with stout shillelaghs, Dan Connor dashed forward
at headlong speed. The stranger glanced round
to see how far off their horses still were from him,
and finding that they had not yet passed through the
gate, and that all hope of carrying off Norah must
be abandoned, vaulted over the wall and ran towards
them. His companions, seeing what had occurred,
hurried up to his assistance. Just as the party
of seamen had got close upon his heels, he threw himself
upon one of the led horses and galloped off, followed
by the shouts and exécrations of the seamen, who
were, fortunately for him, without firearms.
“Shure, Miss Norah, jewel, you’re
all safe now, and that mighty big blackguard, whoever
he may be, will do you no harm,” exclaimed Dan.
“If you and the young lady will just mount
on the car, we’ll escort you safe into Waterford;
and if he and a score of Rapparees like himself were
to come back, we’d bate them all off before
they could come near you.”
“Let us get up on the car, as
the sailor advises us,” said Ellen; and she
mounted and helped Norah up, when the seamen running
on each side, they set off at a brisk pace, followed
by the other cars.
“It’s at the wake of poor
Pat Casey we’ve been, Miss Norah. He niver
was himself after the wound he got when we fought the
privateer — and shure, we were coming home
at daybreak; but somehow or other, what with the potheen,
and the friends we met, and a scrimmage or two, we
made a long morning of it; and bedad, good luck it
was, or we wouldn’t have come up in time to
put that fellow to flight.”
Ellen, who had somewhat recovered
from her alarm, assured Dan how thankful she felt
to him and his shipmates and friends for the service
they had rendered Norah and herself.
“Service, Misthress Ferris!
it was the greatest pleasure I’ve had since
I was born, and I only wish I’d the same every
day of my life. What would Mr Massey have been
after doing if that thundering villain had got you
and Miss Norah upon his horses and galloped off through
the country wid ye! — but he’d betther
not be showing his face again in these parts, whoever
he is,” answered Dan. “As soon as
we’ve seen you both safe home, we’ll go
in chase of him, and it will be hard if we don’t
catch him, too.”
Norah did not say whom she suspected
the ruffian to be who had attempted the outrage; indeed,
she was far too nervous to speak, and it was not till,
escorted by Dan and his friends, they arrived safely
at home, that she mentioned her suspicions to Ellen.
She begged her to make as light as possible of the
matter, for fear of agitating Captain Tracy in a way
which might be injurious to him in his present state
of health. Still, the circumstance could not
be altogether concealed from him. Abduction
was at that time too common in Ireland for what had
occurred to create much surprise. The only difficulty
was to ascertain who the man could be, though it was
generally believed that his intention was to carry
off Miss Ferris, who was known to be an heiress.
At that time there actually existed in the neighbourhood
an association known as the Abduction Club, all the
members of which had sworn to assist each other in
carrying off such young ladies as either of them fixed
upon. By means of their spies, they made themselves
acquainted with the fortunes of every marriageable
girl and the domestic arrangements of the family.
Sometimes, when she had not been claimed by any particular
member, they drew lots to whom she should belong,
and the rest were then bound to assist the fortunate
winner. No class of society, from the highest
to the opulent farmer or tradesman, was exempt from
the depredations of the associates. They themselves
were mostly the younger sons or relations of families
of some standing, who, looking upon commerce as beneath
them, with too little education to succeed in the learned
professions, if they could not obtain a commission
in the army, spent their lives in idleness, and were
known as squireens. Generally being able to borrow
good horses from their rich friends, they rode about
the country habited in red waistcoats lined with narrow
gold or silver lace or fur, tight leather breeches,
and top-boots; making themselves conspicuous at fairs,
markets, races, and assizes, and in other places where
people congregated. They excelled in athletic
sports, especially in the game of hurling, when they
took the lead among the young men of the peasant class
who engaged in it, and thus became identified with
them, and could on all occasions rely on their support.
Though the crime of abduction was punishable with
death, as the girls who were thus carried off were
in most instances immediately married, few were found
willing to prosecute their husbands. The law
was consequently almost inoperative, and the abominable
practice up to this day had continued unchecked.
Mr Ferris was of course highly indignant.
He at once took steps to discover the offender, though,
as he had not succeeded in his attempt, there was
little probability that he would be captured, or if
so, punished. The annoyance, also, to which
his daughter and her friend must in future be subjected,
from being unable to venture outside the garden without
a strong guard, was provoking in the extreme; still,
the daring characters of the men who were known to
be combined for the purpose rendered it unsafe for
the young ladies to go abroad unless thus protected.
Dan and Pompey, with the other seamen
of the Ouzel Galley, and several friends who
joined them, as soon as they had left Norah and Ellen
safe at home, set off in chase of the ruffians, armed
with such weapons as they could hastily obtain, in
addition to the shillelaghs they had before possessed.
Following in the direction they had seen the horsemen
going, they made their way over all impediments, inquiring
of every one they met, and hoping by perseverance
to overtake them. They learnt, however, after
proceeding a considerable distance, that the men had
separated, one going off with the led horses in the
direction of the mountains to the westward, another
turning southward towards Tramore Bay, while the third
followed a road which would conduct him to Passage,
near the mouth of the river, whence he could cross
into Wexford. The parties accordingly divided,
but had not gone far when they lost all trace of the
fugitives, and as Dan observed, “They might as
well be looking for a needle in a bottle of hay, as
hope to find the spalpeen.” Late at night
they returned to Kingscourt House, the residence of
Mr Ferris, to report the ill-success of their expedition.
“Bedad, your honour, we’ll
be after keeping a sharp look-out on the fellows,
and if any one of them shows his ugly face in the
neighbourhood, we’ll be down upon him as quick
as lightning,” said Dan.
“But if you don’t know
the men — and from what I understand, you
only saw their backs in the gloom — you will
find a considerable difficulty in recognising them,”
observed Mr Ferris, “and may chance to lay hands
on the wrong persons.”
“Shure, your honour, we’ll
ask them if they’re the right ones before we
give them a taste of the shillelagh,” answered
Dan.
“At all events, Connor, I wish
you, and a dozen stout fellows you may pick out, to
act as a guard at my house, to protect my daughter
and her friend, should any yet more daring attempt
be made to carry them off,” replied Mr Ferris.
“I’ll do that same with
all the pleasure in life,” answered Dan, “though
it may be a hard matter to keep our eyes open to-night,
seeing we were waking Pat Casey till a late hour this
morning, and then, after seeing him laid dacently
under the turf, had to drink long life and success
to his sperrit and a short stay in purgatory, where
the praste told us he had gone — though,
being a kind-hearted man, he’d do his best to
pray him out of it.”
“I have no fear of any fresh
attempt being made to-night, so you may all sleep
soundly in your beds,” said Mr Ferris; “but
I shall require you to-morrow, and for some time to
come after that, while I remain at Waterford.”
In those days the dinner-hour, even
in the houses of the opulent, was at two o’clock,
and some time before that two well-manned boats, from
the stern of which floated the British ensign, reached
the quay at Waterford. Only three officers,
however, stepped on shore, the captain and two others,
whom he introduced as his lieutenants to Mr Ferris,
who went down to meet him. All were dressed
in uniforms closely resembling that of the British
navy, for such privateersmen were wont to wear.
Captain Dupin, who spoke with a slight French accent,
as most Jersey men did at that period, was a fair,
good-looking young man, with a somewhat short though
well-knit figure, his countenance betoking courage
and determination. His first lieutenant, whom
he introduced as Mr Macarthy, was a man of a very
different mould. His well-bronzed features were
concealed by a large beard and moustache, while a black
patch over one eye, and another down his cheek, showing
that he had suffered in the fight, did not add to
the attractiveness of his appearance.
“As he is a countryman of yours,
he was anxious to avail himself of your invitation,
though scarcely recovered from wounds he received is
our last action with a French ship, which we captured
after a determined resistance,” observed the
captain. “He was shot through the mouth,
which considerably impedes his speech; but he will
be able notwithstanding to do justice to your good
fare, as I have no doubt you will perceive.”
Mr Macarthy shook hands with Mr Ferris,
and expressed his satisfaction at finding himself
once more on his native soil.
“It is many a long year since
I left the old country, and from that time till I
landed a few months ago in Jersey I have been knocking
about in distant seas,” said the lieutenant.
“Although Ballyadare, in Sligo, is my native
place, I have more than once in my younger days visited
Waterford, and this is not the first time I have been
on shore at your beautiful town. Faith, sir,
it is a place to boast of; so fine a river, such magnificent
quays, and that old tower I see there — I
forget its name — where will you find the
like?”
Mr Ferris, pleased with the compliment
paid to his city, was ready to overlook the somewhat
rough manner and exterior of his guest.
“Indeed, sir,” he said,
“we are apt to boast of our virgin city and its
quays, a mile long as you will perceive, at which sixty
sail of vessels can unload at a time; of our dry dock,
lately built by our townsman Mr Congreve; of our conduits,
which supply both our houses and the shipping with
water; of the privileges enjoyed by our citizens; and
of our militia, mustering five hundred men, and capable
of giving a good account of any enemy who may dare
to invade our shores. You will, I hope, meet
some of the officers at dinner to-day.”
“By my soul, it is a city you
may well be proud of,” answered the lieutenant;
“and it is to be hoped that no enemy for their
own sakes will ever venture within gunshot of your
redoubtable militia.”
The second lieutenant was introduced
as a young Jersey man, Mr Latrobe. He spoke with
more French accent than his chief, who accounted for
his so doing by remarking that he had not come to
sea till he was nearly grown up, and had during peace
time served on board a French merchant vessel.
“We Jersey men,” he added, “though
our sympathies are thoroughly English, yet retain,
as you know, the language and customs of our Breton
ancestors.”
“Come, gentlemen, I must conduct
you to my humble residence,” said Mr Ferris,
and, leading his guests up Hanover Street, so called
by the loyal inhabitants in compliment to the reigning
royal family, they entered King Street, towards the
west end of which was situated Mr Ferris’s house,
overlooking the river. On reaching the house,
as there was time to spare, Mr Ferris took them round
his grounds, of which they were loud in their compliments.
So pleased did they declare themselves that they
begged to go round them a second time, when the lieutenant
might have been seen narrowly observing the localities.
As they paced round the outer circuit on their walk,
they met Ellen and Norah, to whom of course Mr Ferris
introduced his guests. The officers bowed, and
Captain Dupin, addressing Ellen, expressed his admiration
of her beautiful garden and the taste with which it
was laid out.
“Surely I need not inquire whether
you were the chief designer of these lovely terraces
and sparkling fountains, and that picturesque rockwork,”
said the captain, bowing as he spoke.
“No, I can claim no merit for
the beauties you admire,” answered Ellen; “my
father purchased the property from the former owner.
I should have liked it better had it been left more
to nature.”
“Ah, if you could see Jersey!
How you would delight in my own native island!”
exclaimed Captain Dupin; “it contains just the
scenery you would appreciate.”
“I can assure you that in Ireland
we have most romantic and beautiful scenery,”
answered Ellen; “and in the county of Kerry are
the lovely Lakes of Killarney, such as I believe all
strangers consider the most romantic in the world.”
“Ah, I know nothing of Ireland,
though I may hope some day to be better acquainted
with it,” said the captain.
The other two stood aloof, as if they
did not consider themselves of sufficient consequence
to address the young ladies to whom their commander
was speaking. Ellen, offering to show Captain
Dupin the aviary, led the way along the terrace.
Norah followed by herself, leaving the two lieutenants
in conversation with Mr Ferris. The elder of
the two after a little time stepped forward, and Norah,
looking round, found him walking by her side.
“Is this spot as attractive
as some of the scenes you have visited in the West
Indies, Miss Tracy?” he asked, speaking low.
Norah started as she heard the voice;
but looking at the speaker, whose countenance she
failed to recognise, she asked, “How do you know
that I have been in the West Indies, Mr Macarthy?”
“I heard from a seaman who came
on board the Orestes that you had accompanied
your father on board the Ouzel Galley,”
he answered quietly. “Irishmen are wonderfully
communicative, you know. It is an unusual thing
for young ladies to take such a voyage in time of war.”
“I sailed before war had broken
out, or I am very sure my father would not have taken
me,” she replied, banishing the idea which had
flashed across her mind. “He probably
heard from the seaman that a young lady was staying
with Miss Ferris, and thus guessed who I was,”
she thought to herself.
After again going round the grounds,
the party returned to the house, where the other guests
had begun to assemble. Captain Dupin and his
officers were duly introduced and cordially welcomed
to Waterford. Among others, Lieutenant Vinoy
was brought up by the host.
“Though you gentlemen would
look upon each other as enemies were you to meet on
the ocean, here, I trust, you will be friends,”
said Mr Ferris. The officers bowed politely.
“I ave moche plaisir
to meet Monsieur lé Capitaine Dupin in dis
hospitable maison,” said the French lieutenant;
“if ve evare encounter vis one anodare
on de sea, den ve fight like des
braves hommes — n’est-ce
pas, Monsieur lé Capitaine?”
“I could not desire a greater
honour,” answered the Jersey man. “Nor,
by my faith, could I,” exclaimed the first lieutenant
of the Orestes.
“Ah, I moche fear I remain
prisonare here to do end of de war,” sighed
Monsieur Vinoy; “but, ma foi, I am too happy
in dis charmante ville vid dese aimable
young ladies to vish to leave. It was de
fortune de la guerre vich brought
me here, and I vill not complain.”
“You might certainly have been
much worse off,” observed Captain Dupin.
“I have no doubt you fought your ship, like a
brave man, till all hope of victory was gone.”
“Ve vill not talk of dat,”
answered the lieutenant, turning away, probably not
quite relishing the remark, recollecting how he had
been caught napping.
Three of the officers of the city
militia were next introduced to the naval guests.
Judged by their uniform, they were remarkably fine
fellows, for their coats were blue, with scarlet linings
and gilt buttons, their waistcoats and breeches being
also of scarlet, and their hats richly adorned with
gold lace. They had evidently, as was natural,
a decidedly good opinion of themselves, and were somewhat
inclined to look down upon the more simply dressed
tars. The first lieutenant of the Orestes
eyed them askance from under his shaggy eyebrows,
apparently regarding them, for some reason or other,
with no friendly feeling. After exchanging salutations,
he at once turned aside and addressed himself to some
of the civilians.
“We are expecting a king’s
ship every day to visit our harbour — the
Champion, 18-gun sloop of war, Commander Olding,”
observed one of the gentlemen. “Contrary
winds may have detained her, or perhaps she has fallen
in with a Frenchman; and I will venture to say, if
such is the case, that she has taken him, for the
navy does not possess a more gallant and resolute
officer than my friend.”
Captain Dupin involuntarily shrugged
his shoulders and bowed. “I have no doubt
of the gallantry of the officers of the Royal Navy,”
he observed. An opportunity occurring, he stepped
back and spoke a few words to his two lieutenants.
The younger of the two looked somewhat agitated;
though the elder, whatever thoughts were passing in
his mind, retained a perfect composure. He managed
to hand in Norah to dinner, and to obtain a seat by
her side. He spoke in a low voice, which once
or twice, it seemed to her, was unnatural; but he accounted
for it as his commander had done to Mr Ferris, by
saying that he had received a wound in his mouth.
He described many strange places and scenes he had
visited, and appeared, notwithstanding the time he
had been absent from his native country, to be well
acquainted with various parts of Ireland. Altogether,
he succeeded in making Norah think him an agreeable
person, although ill-favoured and rather rough in
his manner. Captain Dupin was equally successful
in gaining the good opinion of Ellen, near whom he
sat; while he contrived at the same time to ingratiate
himself, by his lively conversation and the compliments
he paid to Ireland, with most of the guests — and
all agreed that he was superior to most of the privateer
officers they had met.
The feast need not be described; the
viands were in abundance, and claret, followed by
whisky punch, flowed freely. A watchful observer
would have discovered that neither of the officers
drank more than they could help, though they were
compelled to take no small quantity, simply in accepting
the pledges they received in turn from the rest of
the guests. The usual Orange toasts were drunk — especially
the chief one, “The glorious and immortal memory!”
the whole party standing, although they did not, as
was occasionally done, shiver their glasses on the
ground — the principal inhabitants of Waterford
being great admirers of William of Orange. Soon
after this the ladies retired. The officers,
to the surprise of the other guests, rose to take their
leave, and some were inclined to insist on their stopping.
“It is altogether contra
bonos mores, gentlemen, to leave us at this hour
with only half a cargo on board,” exclaimed Mr
Peter Vashan, one of the sheriffs of the city; “we
shall suspect you of being no true men. Sit down
and help us to finish another dozen of claret.”
Similar expressions were uttered by
others. Captain Dupin was firm, even though
he saw angry and contemptuous glances cast on them
by some of those whose rule of good fellowship he
was about to infringe.
“To tell you the truth, gentlemen,”
he said, “I cannot be longer absent with my
chief officers from the ship. You know that privateersmen
are not the most orderly of characters; I am uncertain
how my fellows may behave during my absence, though
I can answer for their good conduct when I am among
them. Before I left the ship I gave directions
to have a slight entertainment provided, and I invite
our generous host, with all who favour me with their
company, to bring their wives and families with them.
The evening is fine, and the moon will be up to light
you on your return; and, as an inducement to some
who have an eye to business, I may add that we have
on board part of the cargo of the last prize we took,
rich silks and brocades, and other manufactures of
France, and as I am in no hurry to go into port, I
shall be glad to dispose of them on moderate terms;
while I am anxious to purchase provisions and stores,
which I am sure your town will supply of the best quality.”
The captain, as he spoke, looked round
on the party, and was perfectly satisfied that his
invitation would be accepted, and that he would be
able to obtain whatever he required for his ship.
No further effort was made to detain him; even Mr
Ferris promised to come, with his daughter and her
friend, and most of the other gentlemen expressed their
readiness to take the ladies of their families on board.
Captain Dupin and his two lieutenants hurried down
to their boats, which were in waiting at the quay,
the crews having, according to orders, not even landed
or held any communication with the people on shore,
notwithstanding the pressing invitations they had received
from the tavern-keepers on the quay.
“Begorra, I never knew a Jersey
man who couldn’t spake dacent English,”
exclaimed one of the men, who had been trying to induce
the sailors to land. “Their captain may
be what he says he is; but, shure, it’s strange
for sailors to come into harbour and not to look out
for a dhrop of the crathur.”
Similar remarks were made by others,
though they ceased when the captain and his officers
appeared and hailed the boats, which came to the shore
and took them in. They immediately pulled down
the river as fast as the crews could lay their backs
to the oars. This proceeding began to excite
the suspicions of the people on the quays, but they
were once more lulled when it was known that they
had gone on board to prepare for the reception of
visitors from the shore.
When Norah heard of the invitation,
she declined accepting it on the plea that her father
required her attendance, which indeed was the truth,
as he was more unwell than he had been for some days.
Having also lately been at sea, to her there was
no novelty in a visit to a ship; besides which, she
had not entirely recovered from the agitation she
had suffered the previous evening. Ellen would
have remained to keep her company, pleased though
she was at the thought of visiting a man-of-war; but
her father wished to have her with him, as several
ladies, wives and daughters of the sheriffs and aldermen,
were going. The party, consisting of nearly thirty
ladies and gentlemen, soon assembled at the quay.
Their respective boats having been got in readiness,
with civic and private flags flying, the little flotilla
proceeded at a rapid rate down the river, the tide
being in their favour.
Mr Ferris had invited Lieutenant Vinoy,
who had won the good opinion of his captors by his
quiet behaviour and amiable manners, to accompany the
party. He would probably like to see a British
ship of war, and of course there was no fear of his
being detained on board. The lieutenant at first
hesitated, but finally accepted the invitation, and
accordingly formed one of the party.
The boats made good way, and though
the pull was a long one, they soon came in sight of
the privateer, which lay in mid-channel.
“Why, that craft has a spring
on her cable,” observed Captain O’Brien,
who had accompanied Mr Ferris; “her topsails
are loose, as if she was ready to put to sea at a
moment’s notice.”
“So probably she would, should
she catch sight of a Frenchman in the offing,”
observed Mr Ferris; “the enemy’s merchant
vessels do not hesitate to stand along this coast,
as we have so seldom a man-of-war on the look-out
for them. Captain Dupin is of course aware of
that, and was consequently in a hurry to get us to
pay him a visit.”
The ex-merchant captain said nothing,
but still kept examining the Orestes with a
critical eye. “She may be a Jersey privateer,
but she has a French cut about her from her truck
downwards,” he muttered to himself.
The leading boats went alongside,
and the officers were seen standing ready to assist
the ladies on deck. The other boats followed,
and the whole party were soon on board. Hurried
arrangements had been made for their reception; the
after-part of the main-deck was roofed in with flags,
and supper-tables had been rigged on either side, already
spread with white cloths, on which several servants
were placing dishes of all sorts, while a band of
musicians began to play lively airs.
“I must not boast of our music,”
said the captain, bowing to the ladies; “but
finding that some of my men could play on various instruments,
I formed them into a band, and perhaps the young ladies
may be inclined to walk a minuet or to try a country-dance.”
No young ladies of the party were
likely to decline such an offer. The captain
himself led out Ellen, and two or three of his officers,
with Lieutenant Vinoy and some of the young gentlemen
from the shore, followed his example. The minuet
being voted slow, a country-dance quickly succeeded
it. The young ladies who had the officers of
the ship for their partners were struck by their extraordinary
taciturnity; for, with the exception of the young
lieutenant who had visited the shore, not one of them
spoke a word. Captain Dupin remarked that they
were rough fellows, little accustomed to the society
of ladies, and were too bashful to speak — though
Miss Kathleen O’Rourke, one of the belles of
the party, observed that they seemed anything but bashful
from their looks.
“Ah, they are all more accustomed
to French; indeed, scarcely one of my crew knows a
word of English,” said the captain.
While the younger members of the party
were dancing away on deck, the captain, requesting
another gentleman to take his place, invited the merchants
who had honoured him by a visit to come below into
his cabin, where they found an elegant supper spread,
with an abundance of sparkling wines. He begged
them to be seated, remarking that the dancers would
be entertained on deck, and would prefer the fresh
air to the somewhat confined atmosphere of the cabin.
“We older hands are seasoned,
and the quiet we can here enjoy is more to our taste,”
he said. The party at once set to; the wine flowed
freely, and all declared they had never tasted finer
claret or Burgundy. The captain apologised for
having only French wines on board, but remarked that
he liked to have them of the best. After some
time, one of the gentlemen reminded him that they
had come on business, and begged to see samples of
the goods he had to dispose of. Others expressed
the same wish.
“As you desire it, gentlemen,
I will have them brought,” replied Captain Dupin;
and he spoke in French to one of the people in attendance,
who in a short time returned, accompanied by two other
persons bringing in numerous parcels and cases, pieces
of cloth, satin and silk. The captain called
for a book, and read out the quantities of each, requesting
his guests in the mean time to examine them.
“They are sold in good faith,
and I believe you will not be disappointed,”
he observed. “Now, gentlemen,” he
continued, “I am in want of a considerable amount
of fresh provisions and stores for my ship, and with
which I feel sure you will be ready to supply me.
I have, however, to remark that I require them immediately,
and I shall feel obliged to you if you will send on
shore and order them to be brought off without delay.
From among so many honourable merchants I have no
doubt that I can be speedily provided with the whole
amount.”
“Will you furnish us with a
list of your wants?” asked Mr Ferris, “and
I and my friends will gladly send them on board as
soon as we return on shore.”
“I do not mistrust your good
intentions,” answered Captain Dupin, “but
as time is precious to me, and I should be sorry to
lose you, I must request you to despatch orders to
your managers and clerks to send off the stores while
you remain on board.”
“I thought so!” exclaimed
the old sea-captain, bringing his fist down on the
table. “What fools we were to be so caught!
May I ask you, Captain Dupin, how long you have carried
the British ensign at your peak?”
“Since I came in sight of Waterford
harbour,” answered Captain Dupin. “To
confess the truth, I have practised a slight ruse on
you; but be assured that I would not cause you or
your friends, who are now so happily amusing themselves
on deck, the slightest annoyance beyond the detention
of a few hours — indeed, only until the stores
you send for arrive.”
“Is this vessel, then, not a
Jersey privateer, as we were led to suppose?”
asked Mr Ferris, with some little trepidation in his
voice.
“No, sir; I must own that she
is the Coquille, belonging to Dunkirk, and
that I am Captain Thurot, of whom you may possibly
have heard,” answered the captain.
“Thurot! the most daring smuggler
that ever crossed the Channel,” whispered Captain
O’Brien, in a low voice, to his neighbour; “we
are caught like rats in a trap. He is as cunning
as he is daring, and will keep us in durance till
he gets what he wants.”