The Battle and the Breeze by R. M. Ballantyne (best ereader for manga .TXT) 📕

potato in two halves with unnecessary violence; “all I know is that I would like to see her married to Bill Bowls. He’s an able, handsome man. Indeed, I would gladly marry him myself if he asked me!”

Mrs Blyth smiled a little at this. Bessy frowned at a potato and said “Humph!” sternly.

Now it happened just at that moment that the press-gang before referred to arrived in front of the cottage. Bessy chanced to look through the window, and saw them pass. Instantly she ran to the back door and screamed “Press-gang,” as a warning to Bill to get out of the way and hide himself as quickly as possible, then, hastening back, she seized one of old Mrs Blyth’s crutches, ran to the front door, and slammed it to, just as the leader of the gang came forward.

Meanwhile William Bowls, knowing that if he did not make his escape, his hopes of being married speedily would be blasted, turned to leap over the garden wall, but the leader of the press-gang had taken care to guard against such a contingency by sending a detachment round to the rear.

“It’s all up with me!” cried Bill, with a look of chagrin, on observing the men.

“Come, hide in the kitchen; quick! I will show you where,” cried Nelly, seizing his hand and leading him into the house, the back door of which she locked and barred.

“There, get in,” cried the girl, opening a low door in the wall, which revealed the coal-hole of the establishment.

Bill’s brow flushed. He drew back with a proud stern look and hesitated.

“Oh, do! for my sake,” implored Nell.

A thundering rap on the front door resounded through the cottage; the sailor put his pride in his pocket, stooped low and darted in. Nelly shut the door, and leaned a baking-board against it.

“Let us in!” said a deep voice outside.

“Never!” replied Bessy, stamping her foot.

“You had better, dear,” replied the voice, in a conciliatory tone; “we won’t do you any harm.”

“Go along with you—brutes!” said the girl.

“We’ll have to force the door if you don’t open it, my dear.”

“You’d better not!” cried Bessy through the keyhole.

At the same time she applied her eye to that orifice, and instantly started back, for she saw the leader of the gang retire a few paces preparatory to making a rush. There was short time for action, nevertheless Bessy was quick enough to fling down a large stool in front of the door and place herself in an attitude of defence. Next moment the door flew open with a crash, and a sailor sprang in, cutlass in hand. As a matter of course he tripped over the stool, and fell prostrate at Bessy’s feet, and the man who followed received such a well-delivered blow from the crutch that he fell on the top of his comrade. While the heroine was in the act of receiving the third she felt both her ankles seized by the man who had fallen first. A piercing yell followed. In attempting to free herself she staggered back and fell, the crutch was wrenched from her grasp, and the whole gang poured over her into the kitchen, where they were met by their comrades, who had just burst in the back door.

“Search close,” cried one of these; “there’s a big fellow in the house; we saw him run into it.”

“You may save yourselves the trouble; there’s no man in this house,” cried Bessy, who had risen and followed her conquerors, and who now stood, with dishevelled locks, flushed countenance, and gleaming eyes, vowing summary vengeance on the first man she caught off his guard!

As the men believed her, they took care to keep well on their guard while engaged in the search. Poor old Mrs Blyth looked absolutely horror-stricken at this invasion of her cottage, and Nelly stood beside her, pale as marble and trembling with anxiety.

Every hole and corner of the house was searched without success; the floors were examined for trap-doors, and even the ceilings were carefully looked over, but there was no sign of any secret door, and the careless manner in which the bake-board had been leaned against the wall, as well as its small size, prevented suspicion being awakened in that direction. This being the case, the leader of the gang called two of his men aside and engaged in a whispered conversation.

“It’s quite certain that he is here,” said one, “but where they have stowed him is the puzzle.”

“Well, it is indeed a puzzle,” replied the leader, “but I’ve thought of a plan. He may be the father, or brother, or cousin of the household, d’ye see, and it strikes me if we were to pretend to insult the women, that would draw him out!”

“But I don’t half like that notion,” said one of the men.

“Why not?” asked the other, who wore a huge pair of whiskers, “it’s only pretence, you know. Come, I’ll try it.”

Saying this he went towards old Mrs Blyth and whispered to Nelly—“Don’t be frightened, my ducky, we’re only a-goin’ to try a dodge, d’ye see. Stand by, we won’t do you no harm.”

The man winked solemnly several times with the view of reassuring Nelly, and then raising his voice to a loud pitch exclaimed—

“Come now, old ’ooman, it’s quite plain that there’s a feller in this here house, an’ as we can’t find him nowheres, we’ve come to the conclusion he must be under your big chair. In coorse we must ask you to git up, an’ as ye don’t seem to be able to do that very well, we’ll have to lift you. So here goes.”

The man seized the old woman’s chair and shuffled with his feet as though he were about to lift it. Nelly screamed. Bessy uttered a howl of indignation, and rushed upon the foe with teeth and nails ready, but being arrested by a powerful man in the rear, she vented her wrath in a hideous yell.

The success of the scheme was great—much greater, indeed, than had been anticipated. The bake-board fell flat down, the door of the coal-hole burst open, and our hero, springing out, planted a blow on the nose of the big-whiskered man that laid him flat on the floor. Another blow overturned the man who restrained Bessy, and a third was about to be delivered when a general rush was made, and Bill Bowls, being overpowered by numbers, was finally secured.

“Now, my fine fellow,” said the leader of the gang, “you may as well go with us quietly, for ye see resistance is useless, an’ it only frightens the old woman.”

This latter part of the remark had more effect on the unfortunate Bill than the former. He at once resigned himself into the hands of his captors. As he was about to be led away, he turned towards Mrs Blyth, intending to speak, but the poor old woman had fainted, and Nelly’s fears for her lover were lost for the moment in her anxiety about her mother. It was not until the party had left the room that the poor girl became fully aware of what was going on.

Uttering a loud cry she rushed towards the outer door. Bill heard the cry, and, exerting himself to the utmost, almost succeeded in overturning the five men who held him.

“Make your mind easy,” said one of them; “no harm will come to the women. We ain’t housebreakers or thieves. All fair an’ above board we are—true-blue British tars, as would rather swing at the yard-arm than hurt the feelin’s of a woman, pretty or ugly, young or old. It’s all in the way of dooty, d’ye see? The King’s orders, young man so belay heavin’ about like that, else we’ll heave ye on your beam-ends, lash you hand and futt to a handspike, and carry you aboord like a dead pig.”

“Hold on!” cried the man with the big whiskers, who, after having been knocked down, had become emphatically the man with the big nose, “I’ll go back an’ comfort them a bit: don’t you take on so. I know all about it—see through it like a double patent hextromogriphal spy-glass. Only goin’ on a short cruise, d’ye see? Come back soon with lots o’ prize-money; get spliced right off, buy a noo gown with big flowers all over it for the old mother, pension off the stout gal wi’ the crutch—all straight; that’s the thing ain’t it?”

“Don’t, don’t,” entreated Bill earnestly; “don’t go for to—to—”

“No fear, young man,” replied the sailor, seeing that Bill hesitated; “Ben Bolter ain’t the man to do anything that would bring discredit on His Majesty’s service, and I bear you no grudge for this,” he added, pointing to his swelled nose; “it was given in a good cause, and received in the reg’lar way o’ business.”

Saying this Ben Bolter ran back to the cottage, where he tried to comfort the women to the best of his power. How he accomplished his mission does not remain on record, but it is certain that he rejoined his party, in little more than five minutes, with sundry new marks of violence on his huge honest face, and he was afterwards heard to remark that some creatures of the tiger species must have been born women by mistake, and that stout young females who had a tendency to use crutches, had better be pensioned off—or, “drownded if possible.”

Thus was William Bowls impressed into the Royal Navy. On hearing that his old shipmate had been caught, Tom Riggles at once volunteered into the service, and they were both sent on board a man-of-war, and carried off to fight the battles of their country.