Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Midshipmen -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
Great was the rejoicing of the inhabitants. Guns were thundering, flags
flying on steeples and houses and hundreds of flagstaff's; and the whole
town of Kingston turned out, with the military and civic authorities at
their head, to receive the conqueror as he landed, accompanied by the
Count de Grasse, the admiral who had threatened their subjugation.
We aboard the _Cerberus_ saw little of the festivities which took place,
as we were engaged in repairing her, and fitting her for sea,--it being
understood that in consequence of the damages she had received she was
to be sent home.
Tom and I got leave only for one day to go up to Kingston, in the hopes
of seeing our friends the Talboys. Tom was in a great state of
excitement.
"I say, Paddy, I wonder whether Lucy still cares for me," he said.
"Perhaps she'll have forgotten all about me by this time; and if that
fellow Duffy has been stationed at Kingston, as soon as we left he'll
have done his best to cut me out."
"I don't think her papa, at all events, would prefer an ensign to a
midshipman; and depend upon it, that if she has transferred her
affections, it would be to a post-captain or a colonel," I answered.
"But cheer up, Tom, don't be down-hearted; we'll hope for the best."
Almost the first gentlemen we saw on landing were two French officers,
strolling along arm in arm. As we got close to them they turned their
heads, and I recognised Lieutenant Dubois and La Touche. They knew me
in a moment, and held out their hands with more cordiality than I should
have expected.
"You see us again prisoners to your brave nation; but we have given our
parole, and are allowed to be at large during the day," said Dubois.
"You'll come to our lodgings, I hope, and allow us to show you some
hospitality," added La Touche. "In this life we have many ups and
downs. One day you are prisoners to us, and the next day we are
prisoners to you. What matters it if we retain our honour and our
lives. It's a miracle that we're alive."
"How is that?" I asked.
"We were aboard the _Ville de Paris_," he said, "and were doing duty on
the lower deck. We fought to the last, and fully believed that the ship
would go down. At one time the admiral was the only person left
unwounded on the upper deck. Officer after officer was killed as they
went up to join him. We were about to follow, when our flag was hauled
down. However, we expect to be exchanged soon, when, for my part, I
intend to return to France."
This was said as we walked along with the young Frenchmen.
The lodgings to which they introduced us consisted of a single room, in
which they slept and took their meals; but they didn't seem a bit
ashamed of it, and did the honours with as great an air as if they were
receiving us in a magnificent saloon. They had evidently won the heart
of their mulatto landlady, who placed an elegant repast on the table,--
indeed, in a country where fruits and delicacies are abundant, that is
not any difficult matter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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