Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 10
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 10
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"You forget," said Captain Driver, "that the men who are with him are in
the same unlucky predicament, and of course are equally unfortunate. But
it _is_ curious to observe how some men are favoured and others
persecuted by fortune. When I was a youngster, I sailed with a captain
(a smart, active, intelligent man he was) who told me that ever since he
had commanded a ship, each alternate voyage had always been an unlucky
one. 'And this,' said he, 'is my unlucky one.' And sure enough it was
so; for, from the commencement to the close of it, it was one constant
series of misfortunes. However, I have no doubt our poor lads will be
well enough off on board the privateer--the French are fine fellows,
after all; but I do not envy them the quarters that await them on
shore."
The breeze continued steady; and in about ten days' time we had run down
a great part of our distance from the Lizard, which we expected to
_make_ in two days more. One morning the man at the mast-head reported a
large ship to the southward, and Captain Driver _made her out_ to be a
man-of-war. We immediately crowded all sail, with the horrors of a
French prison before us; but she had already noticed us, and come
bowling after us, firing a gun to bring us to, and hoisting English
colours. After a long and anxious survey of the stranger, Captain Driver
was satisfied that she was an English frigate, and accordingly hoisted
his colours and hove to. From the lieutenant who boarded us, we learned
that the frigate was H.M.S. ----, bound to Spithead. When we related to
him our adventure with the privateer, he told us that it was no wonder
we were deceived; for that the Hercule was often mistaken for the Hawk,
and that the real Hawk was cruising about the _chops_ of the Channel, in
hopes of falling in with her. We followed in the wake of the frigate up
Channel, and, on the 1st May, to our great joy, we cast anchor once more
on the shores of Old England. I remained two years at home, and then
returned to the East, without having heard any news of poor Sandford's
fate.
"And now, my dear Sandford," said I, "tell me all your adventures since
we parted company so unexpectedly."
"You may imagine our surprise," replied he, "when we found how quietly
we poor gulls had thrust our heads into the eagle's nest. The second
mate of the Dolphin and I had hardly set foot on the deck of the
stranger, when we saw at a glance our mistake; and, if we had any doubts
on the subject, they were soon set at rest by the captain, who said to
us, shrugging his shoulders, with a smile--
"'Messieurs, you are my prisonnars; dere is no use for de resiste; call
your men out of de boat.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account