BY BOWMAN TILLER.

CHAPTER VII.

From the moment that war was declared against the French republic, the navy of England reigned supreme upon the ocean; and such was the vigilance and gallantry of our tars, that scarcely a cruiser showed her nose out of an enemy's harbour, but she was quickly led by it into a British port. The captain of the Thunderbolt was a thorough seaman of the hard-fighting school, and with such an example in his commander, and with a private tutor like honest Ben, to teach him the practical details, young Heartwell could not fail to become well versed in his several duties. In Lord Bridport's action, off L'Orient, his ship was one of those most actively engaged, and gained great credit; but on her return into port, she was paid off, and the whole of her company transferred to a noble three-decker, which subsequently took the lead in the mutiny at Spithead.

It is unnecessary to enter into details of this event—in which the enemies of England sought to injure and humble the flag of Britannia, through the disaffection of her hardy seamen. Emissaries were constantly at work, endeavouring to inflame their passions, and poison the source of honour; but though the gallant tars were true to themselves, and to each other, they were also faithful to their country. Ben, as a matter of course, had joined his brother sailors in their equitable demands, and Sambo had very naturally followed the example. Frank's conduct, during this eventful period, was governed by the strictest sense of integrity. He was well aware that the claims of the seamen had been utterly disregarded by the government; and though averse to insubordination, yet he felt that they had been driven to extremities through the neglect of their remonstrances. But on all occasions in which the most violent counselled outrage, he boldly stood forward to counteract and oppose their schemes, and by appeals to those who only sought to obtain redress of grievances he was generally successful; especially in one instance, when Sir Alan Gardner, Sir John Colpoys, and Sir Maurice Pole, came on board the Queen Charlotte, to hold a conference with the delegates. Sir Alan, a rigid disciplinarian, who had been extremely irritable throughout the proceedings, was so exasperated by a fresh demand, that he swore at the delegates as "A set of mutinous dogs," and declared he would "have every one of them hanged—together with every fifth man in the fleet." The circumstance spreading through the ship like wildfire, the after-part of the main-deck was crowded by hundreds, ready to support their leaders. The sturdy admiral gave them a look of defiance, and shouting "Make a lane there!" spread his hands out on each side to force his way to the entrance-port—nor was he sparing of blows. Frank had witnessed the whole of the proceedings, and now saw with apprehension, that a number of the most violent characters were closing in upon Sir Alan. In all commotions, Ben and the black made it a point to keep near their young officer, and at this moment they were close to him. Frank spoke to the seaman, who passed the word to Sambo, and then all three rushed forward; Ben exclaiming, "Avast there—don't go for to touch the admiral!" Numbers of the better-minded caught up the impulse, and followed the three, who cleared a road for Sir Alan to retreat; Ben and the black levelling the opposition. The admiral got down the side into his boat, and immediately shoved off for the shore.

Sir Alan Gardner did not forget this timely aid of the young midshipman, for on Earl Howe coming down to settle the disputes, Frank was appointed to steer Sir Alan's barge; when the noble earl and his countess, accompanied by several persons of distinction, embarked to pay an amicable visit to the ships at St. Helen's and Spithead.

It was a most interesting spectacle; the barges of the men-of-war each carrying its delegates assembled, on a May morning, and pulled in for the sally-port. The men were dressed in their best clothes, and the most perfect order and regularity was preserved, whilst the seamen on board the ships were anxiously watching them, for rumours were current that the earl had brought down the required proclamation, ensuring a general pardon.

On landing, the delegates proceeded to the governor's house, where they had an audience of the earl, and an affecting scene it was. The venerable nobleman in his seventy-second year—his head silvered over with age and arduous service, and arrayed in the uniform in which he had so nobly maintained British supremacy on the ocean, received the rebellious seamen graciously; and it was curious to observe the downcast and schoolboy looks of many of the hardy tars, who, but a few hours before, were in open and daring mutiny. But when the noble admiral, in the affectionate language of a father to his children, exhorted them to obedience and subordination, and even shed tears, as he declared that a continuance of the mutinous proceedings would break his heart, the rough dispositions of the seamen gave way, not in childish weakness—no! they evinced their stern emotion in habits peculiar to themselves, though it was evident every soul was moved. There stood their chief who had led them on to victory, subdued by the weight of calamity which had threatened his country.

After partaking of refreshment, in which the bold tars were waited upon by female youth and beauty, a procession was formed, and Earl Howe and his lady, with the admirals and captains, several accompanied by their families, walked to the sally-port.

During the interval Frank had proceeded to the Royal Sovereign's barge; and when first recognised, he was pointed out as the midshipman who had been instrumental in resisting the indignation of the Queen Charlotte's men, and rescuing Sir Alan Gardner, and numbers of the disaffected loudly expressed their disapprobation. Ben held the distinguished post of coxswain to Lord Bridport; but as a lieutenant was expected to steer Earl Howe out to the fleet, he had resigned the rudder in the Queen Charlotte's barge, and stationed himself at the stroke oar. The moment the honest fellow saw the feeling that prevailed against his officer, he addressed the boat's crew in a few energetic words, appealing to them who knew the merits of the midshipman, as a smart officer, but a seaman's firm friend. It was a day of joy and reconciliation; and they felt it; for whilst the tumult against Frank was increasing, the bargemen of the Queen Charlotte simultaneously approached him, and having given a hearty cheer, he was hoisted on the shoulders of two of the stoutest amongst them, and in procession with the Union Jack in front, they carried him to and fro the beach, amidst the reiterated plaudits of thousands who had collected to witness the embarkation. This demonstration from his shipmates was enough; the bargemen of the other men-of-war were satisfied; and those who but a few minutes before had been loud in their anger, were now equally vociferous in their praise.

In the midst of their joyousness, Earl Howe and the delegates reached the sally-port, and instantly the boats were manned; and as they shoved off, and formed in order, the roars of the saluting cannon and the shouts of the populace mingled together in one vast burst of enthusiasm; and as the boats neared the ships, their armed sides poured forth responsive peals—the yards were manned—and joy sparkled in every eye.

Frank acquitted himself with great dexterity throughout the day, and all differences being adjusted with the seamen, they returned to the shore, where Earl Howe landed, about seven o'clock in the evening, and was carried on the shoulders of the delegates to the governor's house. Thus peace and harmony were restored to the Channel fleet, which put to sea on the following day, to meet the enemy.

Frank had now been three years away from his mother, without seeing her; and though they frequently corresponded, he earnestly longed to visit her again. The capture of an extremely valuable ship from Senegal, in which Frank was placed as second prize-master, afforded him an opportunity of returning to England, and as on her arrival at Portsmouth she was ordered to proceed up the Thames to Deptford, he now was enabled to repair to Finchley. It would be impossible to describe the young midshipman's feelings as he approached the cottage. Helen was for the moment forgotten: he opened the door, and in a few moments was in the embrace of his parent. The interesting scene was not unobserved, for in a remote part of the room sat a young lady, a gratified but agitated spectator of all that passed. As soon as the ebullition of joy had subsided, Mrs. Heartwell called her visitor to remembrance, and Frank and Helen met—at first with a degree of embarrassment, for they had in their memory pictured each other as they had last parted, nearly four years before, when both were in the gradual advance from childhood to maturity. Frank was then but a youth, but now he appeared the full-grown man, and seldom could there be seen a handsomer, or more candid countenance. Now he saw Helen before him in the perfection of female beauty, just entered upon womanhood; and yet both heart and features were the same, for as soon as the first few minutes had flown, reserve was banished and they conversed with ease as old acquaintances.

In private retirement the young officer learned from his mother and Mr. Unity Peach, (who came purposely to see him, and to grumble at all that he had done) that Brothers, the supposed prophet, had been apprehended under a warrant from the privy council; and after careful examination by two able physicians, had been declared insane, and placed in Fisher's Lunatic Asylum, at Islington—that nothing had been heard respecting Brady, who it was supposed, had quitted the kingdom for ever.

The young people had now frequent opportunities of seeing each other, and every interview served to strengthen the ardent attachment which both cherished, but neither of them confessed. A little incident, in which Frank had relieved Helen from an importunate and insulting mendicant, who had intruded upon the grounds, first opened the eyes of Mr. Wendover. The merchant loved money, and he had, in a great measure, set his heart upon aggrandising his name and family, through Helen's union with a man of rank and opulence.

Without leading her to think that he was aware of her regard, he spoke to her on the subject of Frank's attentions, gained a full and perfect knowledge of her secret, and ascertained that in no instance had Frank addressed her in what is termed the language of love, nor had at any time openly avowed his affection. Mr. Wendover at once acquitted both Mrs. Heartwell and her son of sinister and dishonourable conduct; but his own line of procedure was determined upon, and he resolved to remove his daughter without delay to an estate he had recently purchased on the coast of Cornwall, where he trusted that absence would effect a change in the bosom of his child.

Great was the consternation of the young officer, when on his next visit he heard of their sudden and unexpected departure; and his impassioned and incoherent expressions when it was announced to him, betrayed the state of his heart to his mother. It was the first disappointment of the kind he had ever experienced, and its suddenness had overpowered him; but the reasoning and remonstrances of his parent restored him to more tranquil feelings. She encouraged him "to persevere in his profession, and by gaining an honoured and distinguished name, he perhaps might remove the bar which parental authority had seen fit to interpose between them."

"You are right, mother," said he with firmness. "I will yet prove to Mr. Wendover that I am not unworthy of his daughter's regard."

The prize he had come home in was condemned, and the prize-crew were removed to the guard-ship at the Nore; but Frank obtained leave to pass a few days at Finchley previous to his joining them, and the indulgence thus extended was a source of great relief to his irritated feelings.

A night or two before his departure, he was awoke by a strange noise. At first he conjectured it might be caused by rats, and he endeavoured to compose himself to sleep again; but the sounds were so continuous and harsh, that after some time he rose and looked out at the window, when it instantly ceased. He stood for several minutes, earnestly gazing towards the splendid mansion of Mr. Wendover, his thoughts wholly absorbed by remembrances of Helen; and when he again laid himself down, sleep had utterly departed. In a few minutes the strange noise was renewed. Frank listened, and the hollow grating sounds seemed to be caused by some one scraping the outer wall of the building. He arose, and wrapping his cloak round him, crept noiselessly down to the door—the knocking on the building still continued, but ceased as he undid the fastenings, so that when he stood in the open air everything was again still. He had descended without his shoes, which he returned to put on, and then walked round the cottage and through the garden, but nothing whatever appeared to elucidate the mystery. The next night he was aroused again by a noise rather more dull and heavy; as the rear of the building seemed to be the place of operation, he crept down to the back-door, and rushed out just in time to see a man jump down from a ladder reared against the gable-end. The intruder sprang over the wall and escaped. Without removing the ladder, Frank determined to watch; and though once or twice he fancied he could perceive a commotion amongst the foliage of the adjoining plantation, yet he remained unmolested till broad daylight, when he ascertained that the intruder had been working with a pick, to loosen several bricks in a part of the wall that was covered with ivy, and at a few feet below the eavings. A little reflection prompted Frank to further search; and by removing the thick mantling ivy he discovered that, at some period or other, an addition had been made to the side of the building, and that there was a considerable space between the outside and the in. His curiosity was strongly excited—the apartment he had slept in appeared to be everywhere the same; but on sounding round it, he ascertained that the part next to that where an attempt had been made to open an aperture, was of stout wood-work, carefully covered with the same papering as that which was on the other walls of the room.

He was not long in deciding what to do. Seizing a tomahawk, which had formerly belonged to Ben, he cut down the partition, and taking a light, passed through the opening he had made into a long narrow room that ran the whole depth of the house. Surprised as he was at this discovery, his wonder was still more increased, when ranged in various parts he observed several strong cases and boxes. On his right appeared an iron-bound oaken chest, on the top of which lay a cushion now damp and mouldy, but it was evident that it had formerly been used as a sort of seat or couch, as a table was close to it, bearing a lantern, a wine-glass, an inkstand with a pen in it, and remnants of writing-paper much torn by vermin. Suspended against the wall above the table were a brace of handsomely-mounted horseman's pistols, a dragoon's sword, a blunderbuss, and a bunch of rusty keys, whilst beneath was a stone bottle containing a small quantity of ardent spirits, and an empty wine-bottle. In other parts were books and papers much defaced, and the writing scarcely legible, whilst in one spot upon the floor were four or five canvas bags, part of the contents of which (guineas) had escaped through holes gnawed at the bottom, and now lay glittering before the eyes of the young officer.

In the floor of this room was a trap-door, which Frank raised up, and perceived there was a ladder beneath, down which he descended, and found himself in an apartment of the same dimensions as the one above, but more lofty, and a strange sensation crept over him, as he beheld what looked like coffins piled one upon the other, but on examination proved to be arm-chests, painted black, and containing muskets and bayonets. There were also several barrels (which Frank, from experience, knew at once to be powder-barrels), placed apart by themselves; and the head of one of them having been beaten-in, a quantity of ball-cartridge became exposed;—in short, with pistols and sabres, and the necessary accoutrements, there was good equipment in arms and ammunition for several hundred men. From this room a flight of stone steps, slimy with reptiles and the damp, led into a kind of cellar, having in one corner a very large copper, and at a short distance from it a deep well; whilst broken worms and shattered liquor-casks, with the remains of various implements, offered proofs that an illicit distillery had formerly been carried on here. On one side was a vaulted underground passage, arched over, that was nearly filled with rubbish; but Frank, following its apparent direction in the garden, ascertained that it led to a stable (which was seldom used) at some distance in the rear of the cottage; and here he found that attempts had been made to break through a doorway that had been bricked-up, and an opening formed, large enough for a man to get through, but the archway having fallen in, and the passage completely stopped, further progress had been prevented that way.

Frank and his mother consulted together as to the best course to be pursued; and Mrs. Heartwell recommended her son to go and apprise Mr. Wendover's steward of the discovery. That individual promptly attended, accompanied by a legal agent, who informed the young midshipman that he had no claim whatever to the property, which belonged as a matter of right to the lord of the manor, and he accordingly took possession for Mr. Wendover; and before his departure, Frank saw the whole deposited in security at the Hall.