The Two Shipmates | Page 8

on a fool's errand."
The seamen laughed, and told the boy that such was very likely to be the case. Ralph, however, found a crown piece in his pocket.
"Here, my lad," he said, giving it to the boy; "notwithstanding what they say, I will trust you. What's your name, that I may know you again?"
"I'm sometimes called Peter Puddle, and sometimes Muddy Legs, and all sorts of names, for that matter; but I'm no ways particular."
"Well then, Peter Puddle, be smart about it, and gain the rest of your reward," said Ralph.
The lad, with a shout of delight, taking the money, ran off, and Ralph was left in doubt whether or not he would fulfil his commission.
The sailors laughed even more than before. "It's easy to see who's the fool now," observed one of them.
The attention of the party was, however, quickly recalled to what was going forward in the harbour. The boat before seen could be discerned dimly in the distance through the gloom, and from the same direction there came the sound of oars splashing, or people struggling in the water, and loud cries and shouts mingled with fierce oaths, while now a piercing cry rang through the night air. Some of the press-gang were eager to jump in and swim to their shipmates' assistance, but the officer forbade them, ordering three or four to make another search for a boat. At length the sounds of struggling ceased, but which party had been defeated it was impossible to ascertain.
The sound of oars in the water was now heard, and a boat was observed slowly approaching the shore. She reached at length the jetty near which the man-of-war's men were standing. Some of them went down to meet her, and a shout proclaimed that their shipmates had returned, though without a prisoner. The two men were lifted out of the boat, not having strength to walk. Their arms and shoulders were fearfully battered and bruised, and the head of one of them was cut open. They had reached the boat, when they were attacked by the men in her with oars and stretchers, and they would have been drowned had they not got hold of the gunwale, and, in spite of opposition, clambered on board, and, after a desperate struggle, turned the occupants out, just at the moment that another boat came up. The men, they believed, had been taken on board her, as had, they supposed, the escaped prisoner; and, at all events, she had made off and got out of sight.
Followed by a collection of men, women, and boys, still shouting and hurling abuse at them, the press-gang, moving on, at length reached the boats. Ralph and Dick were among the first not over gently hauled on board; the rest of the captives were as quickly as possible shoved in after them; a strong party of the press-gang remaining on shore to keep back the mob, which seemed inclined to make a rush at the last, for the purpose of rescuing some of their friends. Their courage, however, failed them. The last of the man-of-war's men leaped on board, the order to shove off was given, and the boats proceeded down the Sound, followed by the yells and execrations of the people on shore.
"They'll hurt their own throats more than they do us," observed an old seaman who was pulling at the thwart on which Ralph and Dick sat. "It's hard lines, though, you think, for yourselves, mates, I dare say; but before long you'll be used to a life aboard a man-of-war, and be as ready to press others as we were to press you."
"Justice is justice; and I shall never think it right to press men against their will," answered Ralph. "I, however, hope to be free to-morrow, as I have a protection which will be brought on board to me."
"Don't count too much on that, mate," said the old sailor; "when they've got a man, they're not in a mind to let him go. It's wisest to make the best of a bad job, and that's what I advise you to do, my hearty."
"If I had only myself to think of, I would," said Ralph, liking the tone of the old sailor's voice; "but I was to be married next week, and it's bitter hard to be parted from the girl one loves, and harder for her." Ralph's voice trembled as he spoke.
"Ay, mate, hard, very hard!" answered the old sailor, in a sympathising tone; "I know what it is. I was pressed the very day I had married as sweet a young girl, and as good too, as an honest man would wish to have for his wife. I had five years of it out round the Cape without ever hearing a word of