The Boy who sailed with Blake | Page 8

rendered untenable. Numerous
successive attacks were made, but were repulsed as the first had been.
Poor little Audrey and Cicely were in a great state of alarm while the
firing continued, naturally fearing that the whole town would soon be
battered down.
At length, however, the Royalists drew off, and we were left in quiet
for nearly a week. The time was spent in strengthening the
fortifications and drilling the volunteers. We had spies in the camp of
the Cavaliers, who managed under cover of the night to come into the
town with information of what they were about. One piece of news they
brought caused Governor Ceely and my friend Dick much anxiety. It
was that Mr Harvey, Dick's father, who, having been absent from the
town when the Cavalier army arrived before it, had been unable to join
us, was made prisoner, and was now in the camp. Dick was afraid that
the Prince would hang him, as he had others, and talked much with
Lancelot and me of a plan for rescuing him; still, for a long time we
could strike out nothing feasible. Dick, like a good son, was ready to
run every risk, and I was ready to assist him if I could obtain my
father's leave, as was also Lancelot.
We took Audrey and Cicely into our councils. Audrey proposed that
she and Cicely should go to the camp and try to bribe the guards to let
Mr Harvey escape.

"Bad as the Cavaliers may be, they won't injure two young girls, and
Prince Maurice, who is a gentleman, would be sure to treat us with
courtesy," observed Audrey. "You, Lancelot, and Dick might, in the
meantime, during the night, row along the coast, and landing, obtain a
horse, with which you can wait outside the Royalists' camp, until Mr
Harvey, being free, finds you and gallops off."
"No, no, such a plan I can never agree to," exclaimed Lancelot. "I
would sooner trust you two girls in a den of lions than amongst those
Malignants. We must devise some other plan; I am sure that our fathers
would not consent. Mr Harvey was taken without arms, and nothing
can be proved against him."
This conversation took place on the 6th of May, 1644, and good reason
I had for remembering the date. The weather had hitherto been fine, but
soon after midday it began to blow hard from the southward, and the
seas came rolling into our little harbour. Lancelot, who had gone away,
returned in a hurry, accompanied by Dick, and asked him to assist in
hauling up his boat, which ran a chance of being dashed to pieces, as
Tom Noakes, who had charge of her, was likely to be engaged on the
lines. We all three hurried down. When we got there, we found a
number of men, who, as the enemy were quiet, had left their posts in
order to secure their craft from the tempest. Evening was approaching,
and as the gale was rapidly increasing there was no time to be lost. We
found the boat tumbling and tossing about at her moorings, exposed to
great risk of being run down by the smaller vessels which were
standing in for shelter. To get on board was the difficulty, as no other
boat was at hand, so Lancelot, pulling off his clothes, and swimming
through the foaming sea, was soon on board.
"Stand by, to haul her up as she comes in," he shouted out, as he cast
off the moorings. Then springing aft, he seized an oar. It was well that
he did so, for just then a vessel which had rounded the Cob came
tearing up under her foresail, the man at the helm apparently not seeing
the boat in the way.
Lancelot shouted lustily and plied his oar, the craft just scraping the
stern of the boat as she luffed up to come to an anchor. We were on the

east shore, the most exposed side of the harbour, it should be
understood. Dick and I stood by to seize the boat as she struck the
beach. Lancelot, leaping on shore, slipped into his shirt and hauled
away likewise, but with our united strength we could scarcely have
succeeded, had not Martin Shobbrok come to our aid. Fortunately there
were some rollers near at hand, and by their means we at length got the
boat hauled up out of harm's way.
Never had I seen our harbour in a state of greater confusion. The
smaller craft continued to stand in sometimes two or three together,
many of them running foul of one another before they could bring up,
and others being driven on shore.
The larger vessels outside were getting down fresh anchors, and several
making sail were