CHAPTER XXIII.

After the Battle.

HE brave crew of the "Weymouth" had enough to do to repair their own damages to escape a

similar fate. As it was, the "Weymouth" was in a perilous condition from the number of shot-holes she had received in her hull, and probably had a gale sprung up, she also would have gone to the bottom of the ocean. Exhausted by the action as the men were, they still laboured away, as British seamen are ever ready to do, to repair damages, and to keep the ship afloat. A course was then shaped for Plymouth Sound.

As soon as Jack was able to go below, he inquired anxiously for Smedley. He had been carried to the cock-pit. Jack went there. It was the first time he had ever entered that place of horrors, and his heart sank, and he almost fainted at the sickly odour which reached him. As he approached it, cries and groans reached his ears. On the table lay a poor fellow stripped naked, looking already a corpse, on whose leg the surgeons had been operating. His leg, with several other limbs, lay in a basket of sawdust beneath the table. The blood had

completely left his face, which still bore the marks of the agony he had suffered, which in those days there were few means of alleviating. One of the surgeons was pouring brandy-and-water down his throat, while another was applying burnt feathers and other restoratives to his

nose.

"It's of little use, I'm afraid," said the elder surgeon : "he has slipped through our fingers after all!"

At first Jack did not recognize the countenance of the sufferer. He looked again: the features were those of Smedley! The surgeon spoke too truly; the previous loss of blood, and the agony he had suffered during amputation, had been more than his system could bear, and the lamp of life was already flickering in its socket. For an instant he returned to consciousness. Jack went up to him and took his hand, while the surgeons continued to apply their remedies.

"Shall I bear any message to your friends at Nottingham, poor Jem?" he asked.

A slight pressure of the hand was the only answer the sufferer could make. A sigh escaped his bosom. The surgeon put his hand upon his wrist.

"He has gone, poor fellow! there's no calling him back!" he observed. "Here, take the body away, and put Ned Jones in his place. His arm must come off, if I mistake not !"

Jack turned away with a sad heart. In the cots around were numerous forms. He was about to return on deck, when he recognized among them the countenance of Burdale. The man's eyes followed Jack, and seemed to ask him to return. He went up to him,

"Can I do any thing for you?" he asked. "We have met before, I think?"

"We have; but you cannot help me much, I suspect. Still, I thank you kindly for the offer. I knew you also when you came on board, and was glad to find that you had escaped the trouble into which I thought you would have fallen."

The ice was thus broken, and Jack, while wishing to be of use to the wounded man, whose time on earth he thought was likely to be short, determined to gain all the information he could from him respecting Pearson, and the circumstances which had brought them together. As soon as the ship had been put to rights, those who could be removed were carried to the main-deck, and placed in a part screened off, called the sick-bay. Here Jack had an opportunity of visiting his wounded acquaintance whenever he chose. The man grew weaker and weaker, and seemed indeed to suspect that his own end was approaching.

"Deane," he said, "there's nobody on board this ship I can trust but you; for though you know little about me, I know you to be an honest young gentleman, and very different from the greater number of wild blades on board. I have a wife and child living at Carlisle, and the poor girl does not know what has become of me, and never will, unless you will undertake, should you ever get on shore, to inform her. I had to leave the country in a hurry to save my life: for when they took to hanging a poor trumpeter for that affair of Sir George Barclay's, I felt very sure if I was caught hold of they would not spare me."

S

"What! were you engaged in that fearful plot ?" asked Jack.

"Ay, lad, was I: you may well call it fearful!" answered Burdale. "And I should think you were too, Master Deane, whether you knew it or not."

"I am afraid that I was, though I did not know it," said Jack. "Still no man could have hated the thoughts of what was proposed to be done more than I did. how were you mixed up with it, Burdale?”

But

"Why, just in this way," was the answer. "The man whom you know as Master Pearson, though he has as many different names as there are days in the week, was once one of the most noted smugglers on the coast, and I for several years served under him. We also took two or three trips to the Spanish Main, where we had varied fortune; Master Pearson on all occasions got the lion's share. I was a youngster, and could not look after my own interests in those days. We came back with a couple of chests of gold, and plate, and jewels. Somehow or other my master seemed to think that he had had enough of the sea. He met a lady, a real lady she was. too, though I don't know her name, and he married her, and for the sake of her company he determined to remain on shore. He knew better how to make money than to keep it; and so did I for that matter, and in a short time the greater part of it was gone. However, he promised his wife not to go to sea, or we should soon have replenished our coffers. He set up, therefore, as a farmer and drover, though he did other turns of business as occasion offered. He understood as much about horses as he did about ships; and, as he had been accustomed to levy taxes on all merchantmen he met,

with very little regard for the flag they carried, he now took to levying black-mail on shore. I, of course, joined him. What else could I do? Pearson also hoped to make friends at court; and as he fully believed that King James would come back to rule over the land, he heartily entered into the Jacobite plot, which has so signally failed."

"Then was it he who stopped our cattle as we were bound for Stourbridge Fair?" exclaimed Jack, suddenly. "There's no doubt about it!" answered Burdale. "He made old Will pay pretty dear for his protection." "Then were you the horseman I met, who advised me to offer payment ?"

"I won

"Ay, my lad, that I was," was the answer. der you did not know me again when I came to you as a guide to conduct you to Pearson's farm in the fens." "I thought it was you, and I was right."

"Yes; but I had good reason for not telling you so," said Burdale.

"Then who is Master Pearson ?" asked Jack.

"Did you ever hear of the famous northern cateran, Ben Nevis ?" asked Burdale.

"Indeed have I!" answered Jack.

In

"Ay, and you know him well," said Burdale; "your friend and he are the same. I would not tell you this, even though it would not matter to me, but I feel sure that you and he are not likely to meet again. the fens he is known as Master Pearson, but he has gone by a dozen different names at various times, and taken up almost as many different characters. Both sea and land are much the same to him, though I