The sailor hero : $b or, The frigate and the luggerArmstrong, F. C. (Francis Claudius)
General
The sailor hero : $b or, The frigate and the lugger
Armstrong, F. C. (Francis Claudius)
First Coalition, War of the, 1792-1797 -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction
The stranger was soon within hailing distance. The Onyx altered her
course, and then ran in a parallel line with the strange vessel; she
was a full-rigged ship, under top-gallant sails. The Lieutenant hailed
her, demanding from whence she sailed, and where bound to. They saw at
a glance she was an English ship, but she might be in the hands of a
prize crew, running for some French port.
A strong, manly voice replied that the vessel was the Flying Fish, from
Jamaica to London. She had been chased by a French frigate until close
in with the French coast, where she fell in with three English ships of
war. One gave chase to the Frenchman, and she continued her voyage. One
of the English vessels hailed her, asking name, &c.; told her she would
fall in with the Onyx, off Havre, and that there was little or no risk
of encountering an enemy as she was then steering; the wind was too
scant to keep off the land.
Captain O’Loughlin told the captain he had better get on the other
tack, and make the best of his way and sight the English coast. The
Flying Fish then put about, and after exchanging compliments, the two
ships separated; as did the friends, for the night. Nothing particular
occurred the following day, there being little or no wind, so the party
again assembled in the cabin, and Julian Arden resumed his narrative.
“As we sat, or rather reposed on the heaps of soft grass,” began Julian
Arden, “after finishing our meal, the stranger told me he should like
to know something about me; how I came to be mixed up in the French
Revolution, and what I intended doing with myself in such a pestiferous
climate as Sierra Leone. I merely told him my father was an English
gentleman of the name of Arden, and that my mother, some time after
his death, was, in a certain measure, forced to marry the Duke de
Coulancourt; and then I briefly related how I lost my poor mother and
sister, and my own sufferings in prison. I saw the tears in the eyes of
the two young girls, and felt flattered by the kind commiseration of
both father and daughters.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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