Charley Laurel | Page 3

shouldn't have known what to do with her--but it's as fine a youngster as I ever set eyes upon, barring his curls: and we will soon dock them, seeing they will be in his way, and not suited for the smart little tarpaulin I am going to make for him."
"What, my man, you don't expect to keep the child?" exclaimed the captain. "We must send him on shore with the rest of the property brought away."
"But, sir, he was given to me to look after by his dying mother," exclaimed Dick, forgetting for the moment that the child was white, and that the woman who had given it to him was as black as his shoe. "He is not like the rest of the booty, and if I may make so bold, I would like to keep him, and bring him up as one of the ship's company. We are all agreed that we will take precious good care of him, and he will be a greater favourite among us than either Quacho, or Jocko, or the old goat that went overboard in the last gale, or the pig as was killed when we were short of fresh provisions. Do, sir, let us keep him? We wouldn't part with the little chap for all the prize-money we have made this cruise."
Dick, in his anxiety to keep the child, had become desperate, and spoke with greater freedom than he would otherwise have ventured to do when addressing his captain. "If he were to be sent ashore there's no one might own him," he continued; "then what would become of the poor little chap? he might be taken to the workhouse, or just brought up nohow."
The captain, however, was not to be moved by all Dick's arguments.
"You did very rightly, my man, in saving the child's life, and you deserve a reward," he observed; "but we cannot turn the ship into a nursery, and he must run his chance of finding his friends. However, as you seem to have made a good nurse, you may take charge of him till we can send him away."
"Thank you, sir," said Dick, as he touched his hat, glad of even this short respite, and hoping that something might turn up to induce the captain to allow the child to remain on board. "We will take good care of him--that we will; and if he has to go back to his friends, we will see that he is in proper trim, so that they won't be nohow ashamed of him."
Dick, having thus delivered himself, swung his body round and hurried forward with light step, holding his young charge in his arms.
The Laurel and the other ships, with their prizes, were at this time standing away from the land. The seamen grumbled not a little at having to give up their booty: they could not understand why the merchantmen should have been cut out, and they not allowed to keep what they had picked up on shore.
An officer, who spoke French, now came from one of the prizes with some important information which he had obtained from a prisoner. It was to the effect that three heavy French frigates were hourly expected off the coast. Captain Blunt accordingly ordered a bright look-out to be kept for any strange sail. In a short time three were descried standing along shore. There could be no doubt that they were the enemy's frigates; and as the two corvettes and brig could not hope to cope with them, all sail was made to escape. The enemy soon afterwards were seen crowding all sail in chase: the prizes were ordered by signal to separate and to make the best of their way to Jamaica, while the Laurel and her consorts stood to the eastward, under all the canvas they could spread. Before nightfall they had run their powerful foes out of sight.
The next day a heavy gale sprang up, which increased to a hurricane. A signal of distress was made by the unfortunate ten-gun brig, while the other sloop was evidently in a bad plight.
During the night, the Laurel having to run before the gale, lost sight of both of them. The gale continuing longer than usual, ere it ceased she found herself in a the wide waters of the Atlantic, with all her boats washed away or stove in, her three top-masts gone, and besides other damages, a leak sprung, which kept the pumps going for the best part of each watch.
CHAPTER TWO.
THE LIFE-RAFT.
The Laurel had for some days been becalmed, and though every one on board, from the captain to the smallest powder-monkey, had been whistling for a breeze to carry her back to look after her prizes and consorts, no breeze came.
Dick had been the busiest of the busy.