Chapter VIII: Part 8

*A GREAT OCEAN RACE.--"GODDARD BEGAN TO SHOOT"*

It wasn't only Jack Stormalong and his chum who "kind o' felt" there was something in the air but all hands. There was, maybe, going to be a fight with a pirate, or more savages were coming to the front, or war was declared against Germany; but they didn't mind, and A.B.'s said to each other: "We may be content if it ain't straight home, old pal. We'll git there some time."

"And the more months, the more money, eh?"

But there was no grumbling. Even little Sneyd, the Acting Paymaster, forbore to growl.

The Captain studied the chart, and sailed east and away with a point or two of south in it after they rounded Australia. Making all calculations, he believed he could reach the island some days at all events before the _Fortuna_, who must already have reached the straits of Java, or be about the south end of Borneo. No one could guess what the mate, who was now, of course, captain of the sail-search-of-fortune barque might do.

Now that they were fairly away at sea, there was no harm in all hands knowing the meaning of the enterprise.

It was not merely a voyage they were making, but they were engaged in a great ocean race, and there was therefore a good deal of excitement fore and aft. But all felt sure of winning.

The engineers were advised to make the best of each day's journey, but to exercise the greatest care. For to breakdown in these seas might prove a terrible calamity from every point of view.

The engines worked splendidly under the almost continual attention of the engineer-lieutenant. They were beautiful pets, these of his. He was never happier than when he was down among them, talking to them and touching them as if they were sentient beings, things of life as well as beauty.

Once or twice during the long, long voyage the engines had been suddenly stopped, and the hearts of those on board seemed to stop with them. When they went on again, however, no sweeter sound ever fell upon their ears than the hum of the polished wheels.

They were delayed for a time by a circular storm. In just such a hurricane many and many a good ship has foundered with all hands, and never more will be heard of them till the sea gives up its dead. But all was soon right again.

When in the South Seas constant watch had to be kept from the mast-head for shoal water, and greater caution had to be observed by night.

This was a trying time in a great ocean race like this.

But the depth of the sea increased at last, and they were now quite out of the ordinary ocean highways, though they at times crossed them and met ships.

They hailed every one of them in the usual way. They spoke them, as sailors say.

They might have been about three days' steam from the islands they were in search of.

Adolph had most carefully retained the position of Great Snake Island, but still there might have been an error in calculation made by the first mate of the _Wampiri_. He was a steady man then, though drinking when off duty, and so this was improbable.

He tried to be steady during the present voyage of the _Fortuna_, and touched no spirits nor wines for a time. He knew right well how much he had at stake, and was cautious.

He himself, moreover, saw to all calculations and made reckonings, and on the whole, as his two Jewish owners remarked, a more trustworthy and reliable sailing master could not have been found. This for the first five weeks.

The broadswords of the _Breezy_ began to be a little anxious when next day passed and no _Fortuna_ hove in sight. She must have already found the islands, and her crew by now must have commenced the work of diving.

But about an hour after sunrise next day every heart was gladdened by the appearance, far away on the weather bow, of a barque under steam and easy sail, answering exactly to the right build of the _Fortuna_. They overhauled her easily. Indeed, they were coming up hand over hand in her wake, then keeping off a point or two, the _Breezy_ hailed her.

"What vessel is that?"

Everyone on the _Breezy_ held his breath to listen.

"The _Fortuna_!"

At the word a little cheer had to be repressed on board the man-o'-war.

"Bound for the Horn, and home."

"So are we. We'll be there before you, though. Can we take letters?"

"No, thanks."

"_Bon voyage_ then."

"_Bon voyage!_"

"Hurrah!" said Wynn. "No doubt we'll be there before her in more ways than one."

But next day, no ship being then in sight, the glass indicated a depression, the clouds rolled up till the horizon was close aboard of them, and somehow or another the broadswords' hearts went down with the falling glass. In dirty weather like what was coming anything might happen to mar their success.

It really gave the _Fortuna_ almost as good a chance of reaching the island first as the _Breezy_.

The gale was at its height when the sable plumes of night trailed over the sea.

The _Breezy_ was making good knotage, but, fearful that she might pass the small islands in the darkness, they were obliged to stop ship.

Yet this storm appeared to have driven the _Breezy_ out of her way. There were both winds and currents to reckon with.

It was terribly tantalising, and just so near game too. But towards the middle of the morning watch sea and wind went down, the stars shone out, and the red fire of the rising sun opened a splendid day.

Probably this storm and the fact of the _Breezy_ having been drifted to leeward saved the situation, for there--not two miles ahead--was the Island of Snakes itself, and no _Fortuna_ in sight.

They sailed round this that they might recall the wrecked _Macbeth_, and enable Kep and Adolphus to take their bearings.

They found the spot, but the ship of death lay crushed and broken among the rocks.

It was easy for Kep now to point out the route to the little inlet where the treasure ship had been sunk, and in a couple of hours they had reached it.

No time was lost in sending a boat on shore.

It was the captain's gig, Captain Breezy himself on board her, with Kep and Adolph and McTavish. Everything above seemed precisely the same as when Kep and his comrade had left it years ago.

"But how about the treasure ship?" said Captain Breezy.

"Well, sir," replied Kep, "she ought to be just down there among the weeds. But I can soon see. I can dive down as I did before."

"But is there not a danger of your becoming entangled among the deep sea weeds and drowned?"

"I was entangled last time, sir, though I did not tell Adolph when I got up; so maybe, sir, I might have a bit of a life-line round me this time. I don't want to die to-day, sir, anyhow."

A pole had been brought on shore with a British flag, in order that they might hoist it and so take possession of the island in the King of Britain's name.

This pole and flag would do capitally. In less than a minute Kep was back again with another bar of gold, which he placed at the captain's feet.

He was gasping a bit, but soon recovered.

"All is just as I left it, sir," he said.

Then there was a ringing cheer from the men on shore, responded to heartily by those on board.

"We'll hoist the flag-pole now," cried Breezy, and the men quickly drove the halliard through the pulley and set to work to step the mast. In a quarter of an hour all was ready for the ceremony.

But McTavish now boldly stepped forward. "I don't think, sir," he said, "that the flag should be hoisted till the sunken ship is cleared."

"And why, my worthy doctor?"

"Well, sir, so long as this island belongs to Keppel here and Adolph, they can do as they please with it and all in it and round it. But as soon as the _Union_ Jack is hoisted the island becomes the King's--God bless him!--with all its appurtenances; all above ground and all below becomes treasure-trove, flotsam, jetsam, ligan, or whatever other puzzling names a man of law chooses to put on them."

Captain Breezy laughed. "You're right, doctor. Dash it, doctor, I'll take your advice; but I had no idea we had a sea-lawyer on board of the _Breezy_, else we could have consulted him in many a difficulty before now."

"Sail in sight!"

The hail came from the tops of the ship itself, but could be heard distinctly enough by those on shore.

"That's the _Fortuna_ again. Let her come now we have anchored the _Breezy_ on Keppel's Isle, and I don't think we'll sever till we see what is below yonder."

The _Fortuna_ could be distinctly seen now coming at full speed towards the bay.

"We'll go on board and get things ready. Adolph, you may remain here for a short time. You are the man in possession, and we shan't forget you. Tumble in, boys!"

Once on board preparations to get to work were commenced immediately.

The great diving-bell was overhauled to see that everything was in perfect order.

"I guess," said little Sneyd, the A.-P., as he came bustling into the ward-room, "we're going to have some real good fun with that scoundrel of a skipper on the _Fortuna_." He continued, "Kep, my lucky youngster, you are to keep out of sight below and not appear until you get the signal. But you'd better be half way up the companion ladder so that you can't be seen. That's what your orders are, and if the skipper comes on board the rest of us are to be on the quarter-deck."

Two boats were called away, and, after being manned and armed, lay easily at the shore side of the _Breezy_. They might be wanted; if so, they had their orders, one under the charge of Guilford, the other commanded by a midshipmite.

There is no doubt the skipper of the _Fortuna_ smelt a rat, but he determined to face every difficulty. The two Jews were nervous and excited. Indeed, they had already come to open rupture with Goddard.

"If, Captain G.," they told him, "you have fooled us, and we are foiled, we shall maroon you on the nearest uninhabited island, with a keg of rum and a small barrel of salt herrings. Won't we, Moses?"

The skipper took no further notice of the _Breezy_, but stepped into the boat he had lowered and, hoisting the red ensign astern, ordered his fellows to pull to the point within five hundred yards of Golden Inlet.

"Lieutenant Guilford," cried Captain Breezy, "be off now, and see that yonder fellow doesn't land with his flag. I think I know what he is up to, so bring them here, boat and all."

"Ay, ay, sir. Down oars lads. Cheerily does it, and this is race number two in the programme. The winner to receive a bottle of rum."

"Hooray!" Away they went.

But there were good British tars in the _Fortuna's_ boat also.

"Up with her, lads; up with her with a will!" Goddard was heard shouting. "We'll beat the beggars yet."

Sturdy and strong as the man-o'-war's men were, they had twice as far to pull, and could never have done the distance, but away went a shot from the _Breezy_. It was splendidly aimed by Stormalong himself, and took the water close to the port bow of the Fortunes boat, treating all on board to a most disheartening shower-bath.

"Game's up!" cried Goddard. "In oars, boys. The next shot would sink us."

Then the war-boats got alongside.

"Whither away, my hearty," cried Guilford.

"I am the captain of the _Fortuna_. Yonder is my island, and I'm going to land there and take possession in the King's name."

"You may save yourself the trouble. We ourselves have virtually annexed it. But we've got to take you back to H.M.S. _Breezy_ now, Mr. Master-mariner. Are you going to come quietly?"

"Suppose I must, but don't imagine I'm going to take it lying down."

"Don't care how you take it, skipper. You may take cold without, if you choose, or if you prefer it hot--you can have that."

"I shall not give orders to pull a stroke," cried Goddard.

Guilford pulled out two revolvers. "Up hands, in the King's name!" he shouted as he stood in the bows.

Up hands it was, and the boat was taken in tow, and soon her men were safe on board the _Breezy_.

"Show Mr. Goddard aft," cried Breezy. "Midshipman of the watch."

The middy was a merry little boy, and this is the polite way he showed the gentleman aft.

"Luff, you lubber," he cried, "and if ye dare to back sail or heave to before you stand before the captain of this ship, I'll stick a pin in your hip right up to the hilt. March!"

"Now, Mr. Goddard, I hope for your own sake you will not give trouble, else it will be your own fault if anything occurs. You came to look for a sunken treasure ship?" began Captain Breezy.

"Yes, Cap'n, and yonder is the treasure island on which I was landed for fruit. I was therefore first owner, and there I dredged up this bar of gold, therefore the rest of it is mine by rights."

The two stood now in the waist of the ship, confronting each other, with the rest of the officers near, and Goddard's own surly men looking on.

"Mr. Keppel Drummond!"

Kep was by the captain's side in two bounds.

"I'd be sorry," he said, "to use an ugly word on the deck of the King's ship, so I shall speak in the mildest and calmest language possible."

Goddard had turned pale.

Kep raised his fist and his voice at the same time. "Goddard," he yelled, "you are not only a liar, but a thief. Hand me the gold."

Goddard was crushed, and parted company with the nugget as a whipped schoolboy might have done.

"If you do not now apologise to this young gentleman," said Breezy, "for the injury you would have done him, I will lodge you in our cells, and hand you over to the police the moment we return to England."

Goddard tried to smile, but in vain.

"You see, young sir, you was eaten by cannybiles."

"Never one put a tooth in me," cried Kep.

"And was in consequence dead."

"I was never dead in all my life."

"And now," moaned Goddard, "I'm done for. My owners will maroon me."

He talked so sadly, that Captain Breezy felt a bit sorry for him.

"We'll take care they don't maroon you, Mr. Goddard. If you will lie to for a couple of days between the Isle of Snakes yonder and Keppel's Isle here, you may or you may not hear of something to your advantage. Please yourself, Master-mariner. Good day."

Everything was ready that day, a raft rigged and attached thereto the huge diving-bell, and at early morning, in the short twilight, for the island lies well down south, the men commenced work right gaily.

The _Fortuna_ was hove to about three miles from the shore.

The men in the bell were as busy as bonnet-makers, Kep and McTavish roaming over the island accompanied by two bluejackets.

It was not snakes that the brawny surgeon was in search of this time, but Kep had suggested that the crew of the sunken treasure might have made some effort to get a portion of the gold on shore, and there was not a yard of the island anywhere within a mile of the creek or inlet that they did not search. But all in vain, and ere twilight fell, they were back to dinner on board the _Breezy_.

The news was most exhilarating. The bell had been most effective. The men could see everything, and work from inside with levers, or, entering a chamber beneath, get out and walk about the bottom of the sea itself. This work was first executed, and the old galleon, evidently Spanish, was cleared of weeds, and a space many yards all around her; then these were dragged away up the creek, and the divers had a clear field for investigation. No less a sum than L50,000 in gold bars and doubloons were sent up the first day, in boxes weighing about two hundred pounds each.

The _Breezy_ spent seven days more at the work, during which time all the men did their duty well and heartily.

The ship was finally blown to pieces on the ocean's bed, and every piece of her was examined. In one box were many precious stones of great value.

On the third day Stormalong was sent to tell the skipper of the _Fortuna_ about the wreck that lay on the other island.

The two brothers, the Jewish gentlemen, received him most affably. The skipper himself was sulky, and gave evidence that he had once more resorted to the rum cask to drown his sorrows and keep up his heart.

"But there are good men and true on board, only they are timid and over-awed by the bad hats among the crew." This is what Moses told Stormalong. "These are mutinous even already."

"If you want any help," said the gunner heartily, "I am sure that our Captain Breezy will be glad to let you have it."

"This voyage," the Jew said, "will almost ruin us. But we willingly accept your aid. It is thus with my brother and me: the only way we can save our lives after you leave is by destroying the brandy and the rum, leaving only enough for a smell for the captain and each man, to be doled out daily."

"Now," said Stormalong, "I see how it is. The men sailed, poor beggars, with high hopes of getting rich, and they think they will have to go home in ballast. But they need not. The derelict is worth a deal to you. Give the men work; break her up and load up her brass work and iron, her best timbers, and everything else of value."

"Goot! goot! goot!" cried Moses, forgetting his best English.

"Meanwhile, we will send an armed boat on board. We will take your grog and wine and pay you for it."

"Goot!"

"I'm only _saying_ this, but I feel sure I will get leave to."

"Goot! goot!"

"You may also dredge the wreck yonder, and if you find more gold after we leave, you are welcome to it."

"Goot! goot! goot!"

The surgeon came off next time in an armed boat. With the men growling all around, they coolly lowered the grog into the steam launch.

When his back was turned, the skipper suddenly pulled out a revolver and began to shoot.

He was speedily secured and bound. Then they left him raving. For the time being the man was mad.

After returning to the _Breezy_ the doctor reported what had happened. A bullet had cut the gunner on the shoulder, and so close had the revolver been fired, that part of the poor fellow's jacket was burned.

Breezy immediately gave orders that Goddard should be taken on board and placed in the cells. He died raving mad just three days after, and so that was the end of _his_ story.

*CHAPTER XXVI*

*SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY HAPPENED*

Of gold and precious stones the men of the _Breezy_ had lifted quite two millions and two hundred thousand pounds' worth.

And the happy ship was homeward bound in earnest. Joy fore and aft. Ah, you landsmen, cannot easily understand the feeling in a sailor's heart; whose every footstep, as he walks the quarter-deck, seems to draw nearer and nearer to the bold bluff coast of Southern Britain.

Before they reached Rio de Janeiro, where Captain Breezy had orders to call and where letters for the crew were expected, Kep and Adolphus had a little private meeting and confab. They settled money matters between them, and then Keppel Drummond sought audience of the captain, asking permission for Adolph to come with him.

This was gladly granted, and the interview was but a short one.

"It seems, sir," said Kep, "that treasure will pan out to L2,200,000, and if so----"

"Oh, Kep, my lad," interrupted Breezy, "it will do more than that."

"Well, sir, this money belongs to Adolph and me, does it not?"

"Every penny, Keppel."

Kep then told him of his father's grief and illness from his downfall from Martello Castle to a small cottage by the sea, and how he, Kep, meant to set up his daddy and sister in their former state, and to do all he could to make his life happy.

"Adolphus here will, no doubt," he continued, "know what to do with his. And now, sir, I have only to ask that we may have the pleasure and honour of distributing all but the two millions to the officers and men of the ship."

Breezy grasped Kep by the hand and then Adolph. He was visibly affected.

"Let it be divided, as usual, with prize-money, only in this case your share, sir, must not be less than L50,000; nor any man's less than L1,000."

A public meeting was held next day, on the quarterdeck, all hands being called to hear the gladsome tidings. And I need not say that the cheering was such as is seldom heard on board a navy cruiser or battle-ship. Then the little band struck up; both Kep and Adolph were picked up and carried shoulder high around the deck, even the bayoneted sentries saluting as they passed.

It happened to be Saturday night, and so in good old fashion the main-brace was spliced and wives and sweethearts drank right joyfully.

They rounded the Horn in rough and tumbling weather, and in course of time reached Rio, the most beautiful and romantic city on the coast of South America. Almost as splendid with its surroundings of mountains and glens as Edinburgh itself.

Captain Breezy would have liked to have given the men and officers leave, but considering that they were now a treasure ship, and that men who take grog on shore are apt to open their minds too confidentially, he stopped all leave, and the ship was coaled from lighters.

He went on shore himself, taking only Kep and Adolph with him.

Yes; letters were here for all hands.

But terrible news as well, for Britain had just declared war on Russia and Germany, and dispatches from the Admiralty warned the captain that cruisers from each nation were scouring the seas and damaging or destroying British commerce.

He, the Captain, was to keep a good look-out day and night on his way home.

The news on board was received with an outbreak of cheering, and every man on board was full of fight, and trusted they would soon meet a Russian cruiser.

Captain Breezy had no need to remind them that they were a treasure ship, and that if they fell into the hands of the foe short indeed would be their shrift, and all the gold and precious stones would fall into the hands of the enemy.

Britain at war! Who could have dreamed of such a thing. On the ward-room and gun-room officers the tidings fell like a bolt from a summer sky.

Meanwhile all hands took to reading their letters. Some few were sad, but all the rest were filled with joy and hope.

Kep's heart was filled with feelings of love and gratitude as soon as his eyes fell upon the well-known handwriting of his sister.

In a former letter he had mentioned to her all about the photo of hers that the good and brave Dr. McTavish had shown him. It was he, Kep said, that had been the hero of her little romance in Italy.

And this was Madge's letter in return, or at least a portion of it. Kep had retired to the privacy of his own cabin and easy chair in order to read it.

"DEAR OLD KEP,--For you must, like myself, be getting old now. Would you believe it that I, your little sister, am on the borders of twenty, and not the green side of the border either, but the other. It was sweet of you to write me so long a letter. Quite brotherly too, and in some parts a bit bluff, but I loved it for all that.

"Do you know, Kep, that for dear Daddy's sake I was greatly tempted to let him sell me to the rich old man. I am often sorry for father. This villa is charmingly pretty, and its flowery lawns flow as it were, down almost to the edge of the cliff. But father sits in his chair sometimes for an hour thinking, thinking. I fill his meerschaum for him, and he dreams and dreams of his dear old home till he nods and sleeps.

"We have many neighbours; but though very kind, they are of the commoner middle classes, and though we don't entertain except to tea, I often have them and they me.

"The village where we live is on Cornish shores, and is well named Maretown (but the people don't sound the _e_, and pronounce it Mairtown). The beauty of the bay on an early summer morning is indescribable. Below the cliffs, which are yellowed o'er with scented furze and many a lovely wild flower, the wavelets break when the tide is high over the black rocks at the foot, with a strange murmur that seems to suit the cry of the sea-gulls.

"When the sea is back, it leaves long points of dark seaweed-covered rocks, with patches between of the yellowest of sand, and the long snow-like fringe of sea moans far away now.

"I'm often among the rocks, and find in pools such lots of darling funny wee fish and crabs and shells.

"But I love the sea in all its moods, by day or by night, when it lulls me to sleep.

"Sometimes I speak to it, sometimes I sing to it, or rather with it, for it is the same sea over which my darling brother sailed so long ago.

"At sunset I seem to love it best, Keppel."

When the burning golden Rose of the day
Droops down to the Western sea,
And the amber and purple flush of the sky
And the crimson glow of the sea,
Ebb, ebb away,--fade, fade and die;
While the earth all mantled in shadowy grey,
Washes her brow with a restful sigh
In the cool sweet dews of the morning.

Then the letter goes on to tell of all the fun and capers of Bounder and herself, and how lively and lovely is Bounder still, and how she swims far out with him into the sea, and, when tired, puts one arm over his strong neck, her head on his shoulder, closes her eyes, and allows him to swim back with her to the sandy shore.

"And the boatmen are so kind, Kep," she adds, "and carry me and Bounder into their boats and take us for long, long sails.

"You ask me if I am pretty. Some say I am.

"But good-night, dear Kep, and sound be your sleep, 'rocked in the cradle of the deep.'

"Your ever loving,

"SISTER MADGE."

"P.S.--Oh, I had almost forgotten about your friend, Dr. McTavish. He might come down with you for a day or two. Do you think he would?"

Kep showed that letter to McTavish, and at the postscript he laughed enough to have exploded a torpedo.

"Might come down? By thunder!" he roared. "I'll come down whether anybody asks me or not. Ha! ha! ha!"

* * * * *

But the idea of a "scrape" with a Russian seemed to tickle the crew.

How clean her decks were kept now, and the great guns worked as smoothly as the chronometer. Every sword was sharpened, every cutlass as well; the best revolvers in the ship were served out. Moreover, ammunition was handy, and torpedoes too, and every day the men were exercised in clearing for action.

"By George! Tom, lad," Stormalong said to a pal, "we're not going to lose our gold, if we knows it."

"No; we'll fight like wild cats. Blowed if I wouldn't rather run along sich, like they did in the brave old times, and board the enemy."

But the _Breezy_ got among the Azores, and one night, when some miles off the island of Flores, something extraordinary happened, which is well worthy of the beginning of another chapter to itself.

*CHAPTER XXVII*

*THE HOME-COMING OF THE "SAUCIEST BOY"*

Probably so extraordinary a battle had never yet been fought at sea in modern times.

It must have been pretty nearly eight bells in the night-watch, when suddenly sweeping round a headland, with the Russian flag flying, the _Breezy_ found herself almost cheek by jowl with a great German cruiser. Not far off were five British merchantmen, all evidently prisoners. This was perceived by search-light.

The interpreter Kep roared through the great megaphone in German--

"What ship is that?"

"_Kaiser the Second_ of Germany. Who are you?"

"The Russian cruiser _Borloff_, Captain, his Excellency the Count Kaskovisky."

"We don't believe you."

"Take that, then, as you can take no snuff."

Immediately a torpedo was let fly, followed by the roar of big artillery that all but swept the German into the sea, guns and all. She was hard hit and reeled and swayed like an old tub.

At that very moment the spirit of old Nelson seemed to entered into the soul of Captain Breezy.

"Away boarders!" he yelled. "Steer her close alongside. Hurrah! boys, Hurrah! We'll give her old fashioned fits. Keep the flash-light on us. Follow me!" and he was the first himself to board, all the officers and men that could be spared scrambling after him.

Kep, too, was near him, with his borrowed cutlass.

Oh, God! what a _melee_.

The Germans fought well for a short time. The big doctor with his broadsword must have slain a dozen.

The ring of revolvers, the clashing of steel, the thuds, the blows, the cries and groans, ay, and the terrible oaths as men struck home with knife or bayonet.

In fifteen minutes the crew had sought shelter below, and the Captain himself and those of his officers not killed or wounded had handed their swords to Captain Breezy. Breezy thanked them coolly and quietly.

"And now, sir, your ship is sinking and on fire forward. Call your men up unarmed to take refuge on our ship. Quickly too, or we must haul off, and leave you."

Kep rushed aft and hauled down the German flag. He wrapped it around him like a Scottish plaid, and shouted Hurrah!

No attempt was made to quench the fire; but side by side British and Germans worked bravely for nearly half an hour under the command of McTavish, till they got the wounded taken on board the _Breezy_, then the latter speedily steamed off and away.

None too soon, for they were but half a mile off when the _Kaiser_ blew up. Oh, a terrible sight, such as I trust your eyes, my youthful readers, may never behold.

The Germans were really good fellows, and thought of the loss of their ship as a mere trick of fortune.

The unwounded men were landed as prisoners next morning on this thrice beautiful Isle. But Captain and officers as well as the wounded were kept as prisoners of war.

The British merchant ships went on their several ways rejoicing at the turn of the tide, and the German prisoners seemed as happy as schoolboys in a strawberry patch, only they smoked all day, a thing that boys who want to grow up hardy and well should never do.

The Captain of the sunken cruiser could talk good English and so could his officers, and they told many a side-splitting yarn after dinner, so they were really good company.

They were good musicians too, and were both thrilled and delighted when Kep took out his magical little black flute with which he had charmed both snakes and savages.

But they would have McTavish to play them on the great Highland bagpipes, laments, coronachs, and battle pieces. They had never heard so wonderful or warlike an instrument before.

"Shall I play you a lullaby or cradle hymn, Captain?"

"Mein Gott!" exclaimed the German. "You think you can play a lullaby on that."

"Sit here a moment, sir. The skylights are open and I am going to play well forward, or in the ship's waist. Listen."

He went below first to the cook's galley to tune properly up.

Then in a few minutes the lullaby began. It seemed the lowest and dreamiest music those Germans ever listened to, and appeared to be coming up out of some dreary pine-forest, or from far away behind a heather hill.

"Dat was glorious," cried the German. "Oh, Captain Breezy, send a sentry to request an encore." When the last notes filled the air in cadence long and low, there were tears in that Captain's eyes.

"You are a wonderful peoples, you Scotch," he said, as McTavish flung the pipes on the sofa. "Love, romance and music dwells only in a mountain-land."

One day, not long after this, the _Breezy_ was sighted by a Russian battle-ship. Had this vessel overhauled her, they would have fought like mountain cats, and would have probably sunk with the British colours flying.

There was no occasion, for just then a huge and majestic British ship hove in sight, and the Russian now took to her heels, showing her ugly stern, with the Britisher, after an exchange of salutes with the _Breezy_, going full speed after her.

They passed to the east of the Channel Islands that evening.

"Now," said Breezy to Kep, "we have some considerable amount of repairs to make, as I don't want to go into port like a lame duck. So, lad, if you choose, I shall cast anchor just off your father's village of Mareton and complete repairs there, and you can ask your people to come off every day."

"Oh, how can I ever thank you, sir?"

"By holding your peace, lad. But," he added, "I'll be bound that the broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ will manage to amuse them."

When big McTavish heard this, strong though he was, he became almost hysterical at the thought of seeing Madge again once more.

Says Kep: "I say, old Mac, let me give you a straight tip. Not a word then about your having any money, nor about the treasure. My family are proud, and if my sister does not marry you for your own dear self, sister of mine though she be, she is not worth having."

"So be it, Kep, my friend."

Next morning the good people of Maretown were surprised to see a bonnie cruiser lying at anchor in the bay, her beautiful flag almost trailing on the surface of the calm unruffled ocean. And about two bells in the forenoon watch, a light boat was lowered nimbly and came dancing shorewards, a young officer holding the ribbons.

She was beached on the sand, and in a few minutes' time Kep was rattling up the green cliffs and landed just opposite his dear father's door.

He knew it, because Bounder--the same dear old Bounder--came fiercely on him when he attempted to open the gate. But a word from the boy changed all this to wildest joy, and the boy received a real dog-welcome. Not content with kissing him and knocking his cap off, he seized that cap and went bounding round and round on a grand circus tour with it. Round and round he dashed through the shrubberies and ferns, across the lawns and over flower-beds and borders, finally darting in through the hall doorway, where he laid the cap graciously at the feet of his mistress. And then they knew by that dog's joyous countenance, and his smiles canine, that it was the _Breezy_ that lay at anchor in the blue summer-lit bay, and that the long lost boy had indeed returned.

Both father and sister rushed out, meeting Kep on the lawn, and I just leave it to yourself to imagine what his reception was.

Why, while the sister hugged and kissed him, poor Drummond himself, with tears in his eyes, stood holding his hand, bare-headed in the sunshine.

They led him in and he spent a whole all too short hour with him, and then went off with reluctance.

He promised to bring a bigger boat for them at one bell for luncheon.

"I think," said Kep, as he said good-bye for a time, "I think, when you hear my record from Captain's lips, you will believe that I never disgraced the grand old name of Drummond."

McTavish himself was at the gangway when the Captain's boat brought Drummond and his daughter Madge off to luncheon. He helped them on deck, Madge first tenderly, but shyly, the father next, somewhat reservedly.

And Madge, who walked up and down the deck with McTavish, she asking the drollest questions imaginable about great guns and torpedoes, never heeding or caring what the answers were, because she was thinking of matters far different, Madge, I say, captivated all hands, from the Captain right down to the cook's slush boy. No wonder, with her dark and beautiful eyes, her gentle ways, her wealth of hair and pearly teeth, and her ripe red lips that so strangely contrasted with her almost brown skin, for she was half an Italian and sea breezes had done the rest. For Madge from her very infancy had loved the ocean wild and wide, ni sunshine or in howling storm.

So these two walked together, saying not a word that would have revealed to them how very nearly their hearts were one.

But the steward himself came up at last to tell them that luncheon was about to be served. Then below they went hand in hand, and took their places quietly, she between her father and Kep, McTavish to the left of Kep.

The Captain lunched in the ward-room to-day, and everyone at table was very happy and gay. And all talked about their wild adventures, but never a soul spoke about the treasure that lay below.

Somehow or other, Drummond was captivated by the stalwart doctor. The latter listened respectfully to all the Squire said, but by no means in a cringing way. Drummond came of a good old family, but the doctor's was older still.

The Squire was not yet fifty, but through long worry and sorrow his hair was white as snow. Consequently the middies called him old.

McTavish had the gift of diplomacy.

And here is a hint or two to my younger readers, who may wish to curry favour with some white-haired uncle they have not seen before, but think old.

You will naturally imagine that he is deaf. Make no such mistake. Don't shout at him while at table, lowering your voice when you turn to talk to others. If you do so what a little ill-mannered brat he will consider you.

Never tell him that he looks a little poorly, "sir." In fact the less you "sir" the better.

Never, in asking a question, prefix it with the words: "I suppose when you were young, sir."

Never, if talking about ages or the long ago, make use of the words: "Oh! you may live a good few years yet, sir."

For there is a good chance of the boy who smokes cigarettes and reads the sporting papers being dead long, long before the man of fifty.

And never on any account hold out your arm as if to support him when alighting from a carriage, or ten to one you'll receive a snub.

If invited to such a gentleman's house, leave all your swagger at home, and don't go chucking the maids under the chin and calling them "Mary." The result would probably be that you would be speedily kicked out by the old guv'nor.

And men of fifty can kick too. It is the scientific kick, not done with the toe of the boot but the flat sole. You get there all the same, however, that is, sprawling on your face on the muddy pavement.

These words may be a digression, boys, but they are very true.

The engineers all that day were busy repairing, but next day was Saturday, and till well into the dog watches McTavish thought he had never spent such an anxious day, but about five o'clock the gig was called away, and the doctor himself went in her.

He almost lifted Madge into the boat, but said laughingly to her father, "I needn't assist you, Squire; you've been in many a brave boat." And Drummond felt as lively as a kitten.

Such a really delightful evening was spent, and so downright happy were Madge and McTavish, to say nothing of everybody else, that naughty old Time flew as quickly by as if he had hired a motor-car for the express purpose.

*CHAPTER XXVIII*

*NOT ANOTHER "BUT" ABOUT IT*

The dinner that evening was a great success, as society reporters say. But I am writing facts--true facts, not the ordinary kind that are good enough for newspapers.

Happy crew, happy officers! Madge was very much at home, and at ease, but who would not be so at a Royal Navy mess dinner.

Only sometimes McTavish was too quiet, and apparently a trifle sad. He was wondering to himself what this depression might portend.

"What are you thinking about, Mac," cried Guilford; "why, you've got a face like a latter day saint."

Mac laughed, blushed a little--for it is only men nowadays who do blush--but with an extreme effort he shook himself, mentally that is, and for the remainder of the evening was the life and soul of the ward-room.

No one spoke much about adventures. When the Captain was asked about those in New Guinea, he only laughed. "We sailor men," he said, "think little of adventure, so used to it, and as for bravery in the battlefield, why my worthy surgeon McTavish will tell you that to be slain is a far less cruel death than dying in bed."

The band to-night was playing at first delightful selections from operas, then they got on to the sweet bonnie lilts of old Scotland. Then to waltzes, and this was more than blood of sailors could stand. The middies had turned out in a body, and the men forward, too, kept it up.

Then McTavish, with Madge, and every other wardroom officer with any partner they could pick up.

"May I lead you forward sister dear, just to show you how our fellows can hornpipe."

The band stopped now. Kep's marvellous pipe soon filled the deck with hornpipe dancers. As soon as one dropped out of the ring another hopped in and this continued for an hour.

Then came the broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ on deck, and this was the grandest treat ever Madge had known in all her young lifetime. But the duel between Stormalong and McTavish fairly brought down the house.

Mac of course had the tartans on, and being begged of to dance the sword dance, he did so, and with real Highland glee too.

Poor Squire Drummond was visibly affected,

But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, the bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white, then melts for ever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place.

Every good time has an end. And so had this evening.

Kep and Mac took Madge and her father on shore. Hardly anyone spoke. No one could under such a starlit canopy with the big moon silvering all the sea southwards.

I wonder what made Mac squeeze the little hand that somehow--accident, I suppose--found its way into his, and was the gentle pressure he thought was returned, all mere imagination on his part?

* * * * *

Next evening Kep went on shore with his friend McTavish. They went long, long before sundown, because first the surgeon must talk a bit with the Squire, then Madge and the young men were going to be off on a ramble over the moor with Bounder.

The Squire and the gallant Navy surgeon talked chiefly about Scotland and the Clans. The ancestors of both had been out in the 45.

Drummond found that Mac was descended directly from a chief of the McTavish clan, which delighted the old man.

What delighted him most, however, was Mac's sturdily stating the facts which English boys need so much to be taught, that the short but bloody war that took place between the Jacobites and the Hanoverian was decidedly not a war between Scotland and England. There were as many so-called "Royalists" in Scotland as there were so-called rebels. That had Prince Charlie reached Norfolk his army would have been trebled in number.

"God bless you, young fellow."

And hand met hand in a hearty shake.

Away over hill and dale now for a long stroll. But where was Kep and Bounder. The restless Kep had gone on before. He left word with the housekeeper that he had gone on and that they would find him--forest way. I'm really afraid that Kep was a sly little dog.

"Oh, we'll find him," said McTavish, and away the two went together up and across the moor.

I'm sure of one thing, that McTavish, did not talk about Scotland and the Clans to his sweet and beautiful companion. They gathered wild flowers instead, and Mac could name them all and tell the story of their lives.

Sweet occupation!

Then, by chance I suppose, they entered a shady, ferny dell, and down they sat upon a rock. Then the past somehow came back and their romance in fair Italy.

Suddenly the girl burst into tears.

He was an awkward fellow, this Mac, and really was at a loss what to do or what to say.

But he blurted out at last--"Oh, dearest on earth, life of my life, soul of my soul, we love each other. Will you not be mine?"

She did not lisp out like a Society belle--"It's so sudden."

But her tearful face was upturned to his.

"Yes, dear, if father can be got over."

"That is nothing," said bold Mac. "I'll manage father. Then----"

Well, then Bounder put in an appearance with his red tongue out over his white teeth and laughing all down both sides.

"Hilloa! you fellows"--it was Kep's voice--"I've been looking for you everywhere."

The journey back to the Cottage was a lightsome and happy one. The dinner was a splendid one. All McTavish's despondency had fled, and he kept his host laughing almost continuously all the while with the strange stories he told.

After dinner the Squire and he went out to smoke in the garden, while the full moon rose silently up and sparkled on the beautiful sea.

You must have known long before this that this great athlete surgeon was not the man to hang fire about anything. His motto was, if you've got to fight, why, the sooner you charge the better.

He stopped so quickly in his walk that the Squire had forged ahead a few paces before he too could stop ship and get about.

Thus the two men faced each other.

"Squire Drummond, I love your daughter, and have reason to believe she is fond of me. Squire Drummond, may I call you father?"

The Squire looked the bold young rascal up and down, then burst out laughing. And here is what he said as he held out his hand--

"Damn _me_, Duncan McTavish, if I think I can do better."

So there was an end of the whole matter. Dr. McTavish was a bold young fellow, and you know

He either fears his fate too much
Or his deserts are small
Who dares not put it to the test,
To win or lose it all.

But I say you know, according to Mac, there never was a moon so bright as that under which our heroes returned to the _Breezy_, nor a perfume half so sweet as that which arose from the cliffs clad with yellow gorse.

* * * * *

Now time is up, and reader and author have to part till another Christmas, if God in His goodness should see fit to spare us.

The _Breezy_ arrived safely at Plymouth and had a very happy home coming. Captain Breezy was made Rear Admiral almost at once, and the King gave him a C.B.

Each officer and man was paid his share of the treasure as soon as its value was ascertained in the Bank of England. And here it was stored for a time.

But before I drop the curtain for the last time, I may tell you that every one of the _Breezy's_ crew attended the marriage of McTavish and his bonnie bride, and they departed on their honeymoon in a special train for London.

It was not until Kep's return from town that he told his father about the treasure.

Three months after that, Drummond was back home and his daughter with Mac had come to live with father and comfort him.

Kep received a capital appointment as interpreter and secretary at Whitehall, where he remained till the terrible war was over.

Adolph went back to Austria, but promised to visit Martello many times and oft.

I need hardly say a word about Stormalong. Fact is he married his Katie, who had been as true to her sailor boy as the needle to the pole.

The _Blue Ensign_ was transformed completely, and made into a really fashionable hotel, and everybody was proud of the jolly sailor landlord, who often condescended even to appear at the bar counter itself, and his laugh at such time, shook the very rigging, as Stormalong himself would have described it.

But in this hotel there was a snuggery, called the Man-o'-War Sailors' own room. Only sailors and sailor's friends were ever admitted, but to drop in there of an evening and listen to the yarns that the seamen spun--each with his pipe and his pint--would have made life seem pleasanter to the veriest hypochondriac.

But--but--why I don't think there is another "but" about it.

Lower away with the curtain. Good-bye, my brave British boys. And just one little cheer for the British Royal Navy.

THE END.

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome and London.