Chapter 8: Discharged.
Contrary to his usual habits of punctuality, Mr. Wilks did not returnto luncheon at the Hall, and it was two hours later before he came in,looking fagged and anxious. He had been to all the farm houses withintwo miles of the scene of the fight, and had ascertained, for certain,that Jim was not lying wounded at any of them. At first, his inquirieshad everywhere been coldly received. There was scarce a farm house nearthe coast, but the occupants had relations with the smugglers,assisting with their carts and men at the landings, or having hidingplaces where goods could be stowed away. At first, therefore, allprofessed entire ignorance of the events of the previous night; but,when persuaded by the earnestness of the old soldier's manner that hismission was a friendly one, they became more communicative, and evenowned that some of their men had been taken prisoners and marched toWeymouth; but none of them had heard of any wounded man being inhiding.
Convinced, at last, that James must have gone off to the lugger, Mr.Wilks returned to Sidmouth, a prey to great anxiety. Everythingdepended now on whether the lugger was captured. If so, James wouldhave to stand his trial for being concerned in the fight on the beach,and, as two of the revenue men had been killed, his sentence might be aheavy one.
If she got away, all would be well. They would doubtless hear by letterfrom Jim, and it would be better that he should not return at presentto Sidmouth, but should at once take up his residence in London, andcommence his studies there.
He met the squire just as the latter was starting for Sidmouth.
"Well, Wilks, we began to think that you were lost," he said,cheerfully. "Aggie was downstairs to lunch, and was mightily offendedthat you should not be there at her first appearance.
"But you look tired and fagged. Has anything gone wrong?"
"Things have gone very wrong, squire."
And he related to his friend all the news that he had gathered, and hisconviction that James Walsham was on board the lugger.
"This is a pretty kettle of fish," the squire said irritably. "What onearth did the boy mean by getting himself mixed up with such an affairas that?"
"It is a foolish business, squire," the old soldier agreed. "But wecan't expect wise heads on young shoulders, I suppose. He, somehow orother, learnt the surprise which the revenue men intended, and as mostof his friends, the fishermen, would probably be concerned in it, hewent to give them notice, intending, no doubt, to go quietly back againbefore the revenue men arrived. I don't know that he's altogether to beblamed in the matter. Most young fellows would do the same."
"Well, I suppose they would," the squire agreed reluctantly; "but it isa most awkward business. If the lad gets caught, and gets two or threeyears' imprisonment, it will ruin his prospects in life. His motherwill be broken hearted over the business, and I am sure Aggie will takeit terribly to heart. They were great friends of old, though she hasn'tseen much of him for the last two or three years, and, of course, thataffair of the other day has made quite a hero of him."
"We must hope the lugger will get safely over to France," his companionsaid. "Then no great harm will have been done."
"We must hope so," the squire assented moodily. "Confound the youngjackanapes, turning everything upside down, and upsetting us all withhis mad-brain freaks."
Mrs. Walsham was greatly distressed, when the news was broken to her byMr. Wilks, and Aggie cried so that the squire, at last, said she mustgo straight up to bed unless she stopped, for she would be makingherself ill again. When she was somewhat pacified, the matter wasdiscussed in every light, but the only conclusion to be arrived at was,that their sole hope rested in the hugger getting safely off.
"Of course, my dear madam," the squire said, "if they are taken I willdo my best to get a pardon for your son. I am afraid he will have tostand his trial with the rest; but I think that, with therepresentations I will make as to his good character, I may get amitigation, anyhow, of a sentence. If they find out that it was he whogave the alarm, there will be no hope of a pardon; but if that doesn'tcome out, one would represent his being there as a mere boyish freak ofadventure, and, in that case, I might get him a free pardon. You mustnot take the matter too seriously to heart. It was a foolish business,and that is the worst that can be said of it."
"I think it was a grand thing," Aggie said indignantly, "for him torisk being shot, and imprisoned, and all sorts of dreadful things, justto save other people."
"And I think you are a goose, Aggie," the squire said. "If everyonewere to go and mix themselves up in other people's business, therewould be no end of trouble. I suppose next you will say that, if youheard me arranging with the constable to make a capture of someburglars, you would think it a grand thing to put on your hat to runoff to warn them."
"Oh, grandpapa, how can you say such a thing!" the girl said. "Burglarsand smugglers are quite different. Burglars are wicked men, and thievesand robbers. Smugglers are not, they are only trying to get goods inwithout paying duty."
"They try to rob the king, my dear, and in the eyes of the law are justas criminal as burglars. Both of them are leagued to break the law, andboth will resist and take life if they are interfered with. I allowthat, in general estimation, the smugglers are looked upon in a morefavourable light, and that a great many people, who ought to knowbetter, are in league with them, but that does not alter the facts ofthe case."
The girl did not argue the question, but the squire was perfectly awarethat he had in no way convinced her, and that her feeling, that JamesWalsham's action was a highly meritorious one, was in no way shaken. Itwas agreed that nothing was to be said about James's absence, and,after taking some refreshment, Mr. Wilks went down into Sidmouth again,to tell the girl at Mrs. Walsham's that she was not to gossip aboutJames being away.
Three days later, a letter was received by the squire from RichardHorton.
"I am taking the opportunity of writing a few lines to you, my dearuncle, as I have a chance of sending it ashore by the revenue cutterThistle, which is lying alongside of us. Between us, we have justcaptured a rascally smuggling lugger, with a cargo of lace, silk, andspirits. You will, I am sure, be surprised and grieved to hear thatamong the crew of the lugger was James Walsham. I could hardly believemy eyes, when I saw him in such disreputable company. It will be a sadblow for his poor mother. As we were short of hands, our captainoffered the crew of the lugger the choice of shipping with us, or beingsent on shore for trial. Most of them chose the former alternative,among them James Walsham, of which I was glad, as his mother will bespared the disgrace of his being placed in the dock with hisassociates. I need not say that if I could have obtained his release, Ishould have done so, knowing that you had a high opinion of him; but itwas, of course, out of my power to interfere."
The squire was alone in his study when he received the letter, for itwas midday before the post arrived at Sidmouth, when a man from theHall went down each day, with a bag, to fetch the letters. He rang thebell, and ordered the servant to tell Mr. Wilks he should be glad if hewould step in to him. When his friend came, he handed him the letterwithout a word.
"That settles the matter," he said, as he threw the letter angrily downupon the table. "A malicious young viper! I wish I had him here."
"It is not nicely worded," the squire said gravely; "but it was anunpleasant story to have to tell."
"It was not an unpleasant story for him to tell," the old soldier saidhotly. "There is malice in every line of it. He speaks of the men asJames's associates, talks about the disgrace he would bring on hismother. There's malice, squire, in every line of it."
"I'm afraid it's a bad letter," the squire assented gravely.
"It's a natural letter," Mr. Wilks said savagely. "It is written in ahurry, and he's had no time to pick and choose his words, and round offhis sentences, as he generally does in his letters to you. He was sofull of malicious exultation that he did not think how much he wasshowing his feeling, as he wrote."
"It's a bad letter and a nasty letter," the squire ass
ented; "but letthat pass, now. The first question is--How are we to tell Jim's mother?Do you think it will be a relief to her, or otherwise?"
"It will be a blow to know that the lugger has been captured," Mr.Wilks said--"a severe blow, no doubt, for her escape is what we havebeen building our hopes upon. It will be a heavy blow, too, for her toknow that James is a seaman before the mast; that it will be yearsbefore she will see him again, and that all her plans for his futureare upset. But I think this will be much better for her than if sheknew he was a prisoner, and would have to stand a trial.
"Between ourselves, squire, as far as the lad himself is concerned, Iam not sure that he will be altogether sorry that events have turnedout as they have. In our talks together, he has often confided to methat his own inclinations were altogether for a life of activity andadventure; but that, as his mother's heart was so set upon hisfollowing his father's profession, he had resolved upon never saying aword, to her, which would lead her to suppose that his own wishes layin any other direction. This business will give him the opportunity hehas longed for, to see the world, without his appearing in any way tothwart his mother's plans."
"At any rate," the squire said, "I am heartily glad he has got offbeing tried. Even if I had got a free pardon for him, it would havebeen a serious slur upon him that he had been imprisoned, and wouldhave been awkward for us all in the future. I think, Wilks, I willleave it to you to break it to his mother."
"Very well," the other agreed. "It is an unpleasant business, squire;but perhaps I had better do it. It may console her if I tell her that,at heart, he always wanted to go to sea, and that, accustomed as he isto knock about in the fishermen's boats, he will find it no hardship onboard a man o' war, and will come back, in the course of two or threeyears, none the worse for his cruise. She may think he will take updoctoring again after that, though I have my doubts whether he will dothat. However, there is no use in telling her so. Shall I show her thatletter, squire?"
"No," the squire replied, "of course you can tell her what's in it; butI will keep the letter myself. I would give a good deal if he had notwritten it. It is certainly badly worded, though why he should feel anymalice, towards the other, is more than I can tell."
His companion was about to speak, but thought better of it, and,without another word, went to break the news to Mrs. Walsham.
Mrs. Walsham was terribly upset. After suffering her to cry for sometime in silence, Mr. Wilks said:
"My dear madam, I know that this news must distress you terribly; butit may be that in this, as in all things, a providence has overruledyour plans for your son, for his own good. I will tell you now what youwould never have known had this affair never occurred. Jim, at heart,hates his father's profession. He is a dutiful son and, rather thangive you pain, he was prepared to sacrifice all his own feelings andwishes. But the lad is full of life and energy. The dull existence of acountry surgeon, in a little town like this, is the last he would adoptas his own choice; and I own that I am not surprised that a lad ofspirit should long for a more adventurous life. I should have told youthis long ago, and advised you that it would be well for you both toput it frankly to him that, although you would naturally like to seehim following his father's profession, still that you felt that heshould choose for himself; and that, should he select any other mode oflife, you would not set your wishes against his. But the lad would nothear of my doing so. He said that, rather than upset your cherishedplans, he would gladly consent to settle down in Sidmouth for life. Ihonoured him for his filial spirit; but, frankly, I think he was wrong.An eagle is not made to live in a hen coop, nor a spirited lad tosettle down in a humdrum village; and I own that, although I regret themanner of his going, I cannot look upon it as an unmixed evil, that theforce of circumstances has taken him out of the course marked out forhim, and that he will have an opportunity of seeing life andadventure."
Mrs. Walsham had listened, with a surprise too great to admit of herinterrupting the old soldier's remarks.
"I never dreamed of this," she said at last, when he ceased. "I cannotremember, now, that I ever asked him, but I took it for granted that hewould like nothing better than to follow in his father's steps. Had Iknown that he objected to it, I would not for a moment have forced himagainst his inclinations. Of course it is natural that, being alone inthe world, I should like to have him with me still, but I would neverhave been so selfish as to have sacrificed his life to mine. Still,though it would be hard to have parted from him in any way, it isharder still to part like this. If he was to go, he need not have goneas a common sailor. The squire, who has done so much for him, would nodoubt, instead of sending him to school, have obtained a midshipman'sberth for him, or a commission in the army; but it is dreadful to thinkof him as a common sailor, liable to be flogged."
"Well, Mrs. Walsham, perhaps we may set the matter partly to rights. Iwill speak to the squire, and I am sure he will write to his friend atthe admiralty, and have an order sent out, at once, for Jim'sdischarge. At the same time, it would be better that he should notreturn here just at present. His name may come out, at the trial of thesmugglers, as being concerned in the affair, and it would be betterthat he should stay away, till that matter blows over. At any rate, ifI were you I should write to him, telling him that you know now that hehas no taste for the medical profession, and that, should he seeanything that he thinks will suit him in America, you would not wishhim to come home immediately, if he has a fancy for staying out there;but that, if he chooses to return, you are sure that the squire willexert himself, to give him a start in any other profession he maychoose."
Mrs. Walsham agreed to carry out the suggestion and, that afternoon,the squire sent off a letter to his friend at the admiralty, and threeletters were also posted to James himself.
The voyage of the Thetis was uneventful. Her destination was Hampton,at the opening of Chesapeake Bay, where the troops on board would jointhe expedition under General Braddock, which was advancing up thePotomac. When she arrived there, they found several ships of war underCommodore Keppel. Braddock's force had marched to Wills Creek, where amilitary post named Fort Cumberland had been formed. The soldiers onboard were at once disembarked, and marched up the banks of the Potomacto join the force at Fort Cumberland. The sailors were employed intaking stores up the river in boats.
James Walsham had done his best, during the voyage, to acquire aknowledge of his duties. His experience in the fishing boats was usefulto him now, and he was soon able to do his work as an able-bodiedseaman. His good spirits and willingness rendered him a generalfavourite. He was glad that he was not put in the same watch withRichard Horton, as, after their first meeting, the young lieutenantshowed no signs of recognition. He was not, James found, popular amongthe men. He was exacting and overbearing with them, and some on board,who had served with him on his previous voyage, had many tales to hisdisadvantage.
A fortnight after the arrival of the Thetis at Hampton, orders wereissued among the ships of war for thirty volunteers for Braddock'sexpedition, of which the Thetis was to furnish ten. So many sent intheir names, that the first lieutenant had difficulty in choosing ten,who were looked upon with envy by the rest of the ship's company; forthere seemed little chance, at present, of fighting at sea, and theexcitement of a march on shore, with adventures of all sorts, andencounters with the French and their Indian allies, seemed delightfulto the tars.
Upon the following day a ship arrived from England and, an hourafterwards, an order was passed forward that the first lieutenantwanted James Walsham upon the quarterdeck.
"Walsham," he said, "an order has just come from the admiralty for yourdischarge, and you are to have a passage in the first ship returning,if you choose to take it. I am sorry you are leaving the ship, for Ihave noticed that you show great willingness and activity, and willmake a first-rate sailor. Still, I suppose, your friends in England didnot care about your remaining before the mast."
James touched his hat and walked forward. He was scarcely surprised,
for he had thought that his mother would probably ask the squire to usehis influence to obtain his discharge. He scarcely knew whether he wasglad or sorry. He was in a false position, and could not hope forpromotion except by some lucky chance, such as was not likely to occur,of distinguishing himself.
At the same time, he sighed as he thought that he must now return andtake up the profession for which his mother had intended him. A quarterof an hour later, however, the ship's corporal came round anddistributed the mails, and James, to his delight, found there werethree letters for him. He tore open that from his mother. It began bygently upbraiding him for getting himself mixed up in the fight betweenthe smugglers and the revenue men.
"In the next place, my dear boy," she said, "I must scold you, evenmore, for not confiding in your mother as to your wishes about yourfuture profession. Mr. Wilks has opened my eyes to the fact that, whileI have all along been taking it for granted, that your wishes agreedwith mine as to your profession, you have really been sacrificing allyour own inclinations in order to avoid giving me pain. I am verythankful to him for having opened my eyes, for I should have beengrieved indeed had I found, when too late, that I had chained you downto a profession you dislike.
"Of course, I should have liked to have had you with me, but in no casewould have had you sacrifice yourself; still less now, when I have metwith such kind friends, and am happy and comfortable in my life.Therefore, my boy, let us set aside at once all idea of your becoming adoctor. There is no occasion for you to choose, immediately, what youwill do. You are too old now to enter the royal navy, and it is wellthat, before you finally decide on a profession, you have theopportunity of seeing something of the world.
"I inclose bank notes for a hundred pounds so that, if you like, youcan stay for a few weeks or months in the colonies, and then take yourpassage home from New York or Boston. By that time, too, all talk aboutthis affair with the smugglers will have ceased; but, as your name islikely to come out at the trial of the men who were taken, so thesquire thinks it will be better for you to keep away, for a time."
The rest of the letter was filled up with an account of the excitementand alarm which had been felt when he was first missed.
"We were glad, indeed," she said, "when a letter was received fromRichard Horton, saying that you were on board the Thetis. Mr. Wilkstells me it was an abominably spiteful letter, and I am sure the squirethinks so, too, from the tone in which he spoke this afternoon abouthis nephew; but I can quite forgive him, for, if it had not been forhis letter, we should not have known what had become of you, and manymonths might have passed before we might have heard from you inAmerica. As it is, only four or five days have been lost, and thesquire is writing tonight to obtain your discharge, which he assures methere will be no difficulty whatever about."
The squire's was a very cordial letter, and he, too, enclosed notes fora hundred pounds.
"Mr. Wilks tells me," he said, "that you do not like the thought ofdoctoring. I am not surprised, and I think that a young fellow, of suchspirit and courage as you have shown, ought to be fitted for somethingbetter than administering pills and draughts to the old women ofSidmouth. Tell me frankly, when you write, what you would like. Youare, of course, too old for the royal navy. If you like to enter themerchant service, I have no doubt I could arrange with some shippingfirm in Bristol, and would take care that, by the time you get to becaptain, you should also be part owner of the ship. If, on the otherhand, you would like to enter the army--and it seems to me that thereare stirring times approaching--I think that, through one or other ofmy friends in London, I could obtain a commission for you. If there isanything else you would like better than this, you may command my bestservices. I never forget how much I am indebted to you for my presenthappiness, and, whatever I can do for you, still shall feel myselfdeeply your debtor."
The old soldier wrote a characteristic letter. In the first place, hetold James that he regarded him as a fool, for mixing up in an affairin which he had no concern whatever. Then he congratulated him on thefact that circumstances had broken the chain from which he would neverotherwise have freed himself.
"You must not be angry with me," he said, "for having betrayed yourconfidence, and told the truth to your mother. I did it in order toconsole her, by showing her that things were, after all, for the best;and I must say that madam took my news in the very best spirit, and Iam sure you will see this by her letter to you. There is no one Ihonour and esteem more than I do her, and I was sure, all along, thatyou were making a mistake in not telling her frankly what your wisheswere. Now you have got a roving commission for a time, and it will beyour own fault if you don't make the best of it. There is likely to bean exciting time in the colonies, and you are not the lad I take youfor, if you dawdle away your time in the towns, instead of seeing whatis going on in the forest."
These letters filled James with delight, and, without an hour's delay,he sat down to answer them. In his letter to the squire he thanked himmost warmly for his kindness, and said that, above all things, heshould like a commission in the army. He wrote a very tender andaffectionate letter to his mother, telling her how much he felt hergoodness in so promptly relinquishing her own plans, and in allowinghim to choose the life he liked.
"Thank Aggie," he concluded, "for the message she sent by you. Give hermy love, and don't let her forget me."
To the old soldier he wrote a gossipping account of his voyage.
"It was impossible," he said, "for the news of my discharge to havecome at a better moment. Thirty sailors from the fleet are going withGeneral Braddock's force, and everyone else is envying their goodluck--I among them. Now I shall go up, at once, and join the Virginianregiment which is accompanying them. I shall join that, instead ofeither of the line regiments, as I can leave when I like. Besides, ifthe squire is able to get me a commission, it would have beenpleasanter for me to have been fighting here as a volunteer, than as aprivate in the line.
"By the way, nobody thinks there will be much fighting, so don't let mymother worry herself about me; but, at any rate, a march through thegreat forests of this country, with a chance of a brush with theredskins, will be great fun. Perhaps, by the time it is over, I may geta letter from you saying that I have got my commission. As I hear thereis a chance of a regular war between the French and us out here, thecommission may be for a regiment on this side."
After finishing his letters, and giving them to the ship's corporal toplace in the next post bag, James said goodbye to his messmates, andprepared to go on shore. The ten men chosen for the expedition werealso on the point of starting. Richard Horton was standing near, in astate of great discontent that he had not been chosen to accompany themin their expedition. James Walsham stepped up to him, and touched hishat respectfully.
"I wish to thank you, Lieutenant Horton, for your extremely kindletter, telling my friends that I was on board this ship. It has beenthe means of my obtaining my discharge at once, instead of having toserve, for many months, before I could send the news home and obtain ananswer in return."
Without another word he turned and, walking to the gangway, took hisplace in a boat about starting with some sailors for the shore, leavingRichard Horton in a state of fury, with himself, for having been themeans of obtaining James's discharge. He had already, more than once,felt uncomfortable as he thought of the wording of the letter; and thatthis indulgence of his spite had had the effect of restoring James'sliberty, rendered him well-nigh mad with rage.
On landing, James Walsham at once disposed of his sailor's clothes, andpurchased a suit similar to those worn by the colonists; then heobtained a passage up the river to Alexandria, where the transportswhich had brought the troops were still lying. Here, one of thecompanies of the Virginia corps was stationed, and James, finding thatthey were expecting, every day, to be ordered up to Wills Creek,determined to join them at once.
The scene was a busy one. Stores were being landed from the transports,teamsters were loading up their waggons, officers were
superintendingthe operations, the men of the Virginia corps, who wore no uniform, butwere attired in the costume used by hunters and backwoodsmen; namely, aloose hunting shirt, short trousers or breeches, and gaiters; weremoving about unconcernedly, while a few of them, musket on shoulder,were on guard over the piles of stores.
Presently a tall, slightly-built young man, with a pleasant butresolute face, came riding along, and checked his horse close to whereJames was standing. James noticed that the men on sentry, who had, forthe most part, been sitting down on fallen logs of wood, bales, oranything else which came handy; with their muskets across their knees,or leaning beside them; got up and began pacing to and fro, with somesemblance of military position.
"Who is that young man?" he asked a teamster standing by.
"That is Colonel Washington," the man replied, "one of the smartest ofthe colonial officers."
"Why, he only looks two or three and twenty," James said in surprise.
"He is not more than that," the man said; "but age don't go for muchhere, and Colonel Washington is adjutant general of the Virginianmilitia. Only a few months back, he made a journey with despatches,right through the forests to the French station at Port de Beuf, and,since then, he has been in command of the party which went out to builda fort, at the forks of the Ohio, and had some sharp fighting with theFrench. A wonderful smart young officer they say he is, just as cool,when the bullets are flying, as if sitting on horseback."
James resolved, at once, that he would speak to Colonel Washington, andask him if he could join the Virginian militia. He accordingly went upto him, and touched his hat.
"If you please, sir, I am anxious to join the Virginian militia, and,as they tell me that you are adjutant general, I have come to ask youif I can do so."
"I see no difficulty in it, my lad," the colonel said; "but if you haverun away from home, in search of adventure, I should advise you to goback again, for we are likely to have heavy work."
"I don't mind that, sir, and I have not run away. I am English. I waspressed on board a frigate, and was brought over here, but my friendsin England procured my discharge, which came for me here, a fortnightafter my arrival. They are, I believe, about to obtain for me acommission in a king's regiment; but, as I was here, I thought that Ishould like to see some service, as it may be some months before I hearthat I have got my commission. I would rather if I could join as avolunteer, as I do not want pay, my friends having supplied me amplywith money."
"You seem to be a lad of spirit," Colonel Washington said, "and I willat once put you in the way of doing what you desire. You shall join theVirginian corps as a volunteer. Have you money enough to buy a horse?"
"Yes, plenty," Jim said. "I have two hundred pounds."
"Then you had better leave a hundred and fifty, at least, behind you,"the colonel said. "I will direct you to a trader here, with whom youcan bank it. You can get an excellent horse for twenty pounds. I askedyou because, if you like, I can attach you to myself. I often want amounted messenger; and, of course, as a volunteer, you would mess withme."
"I should like it above all things," James said thankfully.
"Then we will at once go to the tent of the officer commanding thiscompany," Washington said, "and enroll you as a volunteer."
On reaching the tent, Washington dismounted and led the way in.
"Captain Hall," he said, "this is a young English gentleman, who willshortly have a commission in the king's army, but, in the meantime, hewishes to see a little brisk fighting, so he is to be enrolled as avolunteer in your company; but he is going to obtain a horse, and willact as a sort of aide-de-camp to me."
Captain Hall at once entered James's name as a volunteer on the roll ofhis company.
"Do you know of anyone who has a good horse for sale?" Washingtonasked.
"Yes," the captain replied, "at least, there was a farmer here half anhour ago with a good-looking horse which he wants to sell. I have nodoubt he is in the camp, still."
Captain Hall went to the door of the tent, and told two of the menthere to find the farmer, and tell him he had a purchaser for hishorse.
Ten minutes later the farmer came up, and James bought the horse,Captain Hall doing the bargaining for him.
"Now," Washington said, "we will go round to the storekeeper I spokeof, and deposit the best part of your money with him. I should onlytake a pound or two, if I were you, for you will find no means ofspending money when you once set forward, and, should anything happento you, the Indians would not appreciate the value of those Englishnotes of yours. You will want a brace of pistols and a sword, ablanket, and cooking pot--that is about the extent of your campequipment."