Frank Mildmay; Or, The Naval OfficerMarryat, Frederick
History
Frank Mildmay; Or, The Naval Officer
Marryat, Frederick
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Officers -- Fiction; Sea stories
We arrived safely on board, and reported ourselves to the captain, who
was on the hammocks, watching the progress of the fire-ships. One of
these had been lighted too soon; her helm had not been lashed, and
she had broached to, close to our frigate. I had had quite enough of
adventure for that night, but was fated to have a little more.
"Mr Mildmay," said the captain, "you seem to like the fun; jump into
your gig again, take four fresh hands" (thinks I, a fresh midshipman
would not be amiss), "get on board of that vessel, and put her head
the right way."
I did not like this job at all; the vessel appeared to be in flames
from the jib-boom to the topsail; and I own I preferred enjoying
the honours I had already gained, to going after others so very
precarious; however, I never made a difficulty, and this was no time
for exceptions to my rule. I touched my hat, said, "Ay, ay, sir," sang
out for four volunteers, and, in an instant, I had fifty. I selected
four, and shoved off on my new expedition.
As I approached the vessel, I could not at first discover any part
that was not tenanted by the flames, the heat of which, at the
distance of twenty or thirty feet, was far from pleasant, even in that
cold night. The weather quarter appeared to be clearest of flames, but
they burst out with great fury from the cabin windows. I contrived,
with great difficulty, to reach the deck, by climbing up that part
which was not actually burning, and was followed by one of the
sailors. The main-mast was on fire, and the flakes of burning canvas
from the boom mainsail fell on us like a snow-storm; the end of the
tiller was burnt to charcoal, but on the midship part of it I passed a
rope, and, assisted by the sailor, moved the helm, and got her before
the wind.
While I was thus employed, I could not help thinking of my type, Don
Juan. I was nearly suffocated before I had completed my work. I shoved
off again, and away she flew before the wind. "I don't go with you
this time," said I; "_J'ai été_", as the Frenchman said, when he was
invited to an English foxhunt.
I was as black as a negro when I returned on board, and dying with
thirst. "Very well done, Mildmay," said the captain; "did you find it
warm?" I pointed to my mouth, for it was so parched that I could not
speak, and ran to the water-cask, where I drank as much as would have
floated a canoe. The first thing I said, as soon as I could speak, was
"D---- that fire-ship, and the lubber that set her on fire."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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