WHERE IS THE _MINORCA_?
Mr Lawrence was for a few days very uneasy, but uneasy is a mild term
to express the state of a man's mind that starts at a look or an
exclamation, who fancies he is whispered about when two go past him
talking, who expects that every man who approaches him is going to
speak to him about the letter he has found, who imagines that every
look that his father fastens upon him is a prelude to a tremendous
attack, who is willing to attribute the silence of Captain Acton to the
consideration of what steps in the face of such an enormity should be
taken by him against the son of his old friend Sir William Lawrence.
But Lucy Acton smiled and curtsied when he passed as usual. Old
Miss Acton was nervously polite in her way in her little chirrupy
salutations. Captain Acton was sometimes down at the ship, but had
nothing to say about the finding of a letter good or bad.
Therefore after a few days of miserable anxiety, during which he was
remarkable for sobriety and for conspicuous regard to his personal
apparel, Mr Lawrence allowed the subject of the letter to slip from his
mind, satisfied that it had been reduced to pulp by the wet that had
fallen on the morning he lost it, or that it had been blown by some
sportive stroke of breeze into a corner, or a place where it was as
much lost as if it had dropped from his pocket into the ocean.
As evidence that Mr Lawrence was improving in general esteem, a
brief conversation passed at Old Harbour House on the fourth evening
following the day of the loss of the letter. Captain Acton had invited
some friends to a rubber of whist. Sir William Lawrence was to be
amongst the guests, but as he lived near he was always late, explaining
that the fact of his living near excused him for taking plenty of time.
Miss Lucy was lovely in black muslin spangled with stars as the hair is
dusted with gold.
Whilst they waited for Sir William the conversation turned upon his son.
"How greatly Mr Lawrence has improved, not indeed in manners, for he
was always a very fine gentleman, a very pretty gentleman, but in
appearance, since you gave him the command of the _Minorca_, Captain
Acton."
This was said by Lady Larmont, the widow of an East India Director,
who had achieved a reputation for beneficence in the district without
spending very much money.
"What I much admire in Mr Lawrence," said Miss Acton, "is his art in
making a leg on entering a room. His art in this way rises to a degree
that is very unusual in men nowadays, and I should think particularly
in sea-faring men. His deportment embraces the whole room. A man has a
right to claim some sort of excellence who can make a leg with skill."
"'Tis a very old-fashioned term, madam," said General Groves, "current
in my time, but I question if much understood in this."
"It is most happily explained in the play of the _Man of the World_,"
said Miss Acton. "I was never more pleased than by Sir Pertinax
Macsycophant's reply to his nephew's question how he had made his way
in the world. Sir Pertinax replies, 'By booing, sir.' A great deal of
money and fine social positions have been obtained by booing."
"Hence the value of being able to make a leg in your opinion, madam,"
said General Groves.
"If trousers come in legs must go out," said Lucy. "What is the good
of being able to make a leg with elegance if fashion compels you to
conceal the eloquent member?"
"Well said, Miss, well said!" cried Miss Proudfoot, who was a very good
hand at whist and very quarrelsome over the game.
"I don't believe myself," said Miss Acton, "that trousers ever will
come in. Men whose calves are of a good shape and who have long been in
the habit of admiring and cherishing them, will be very reluctant to
conceal them in those ridiculous unmanly garments called trousers."
"As the majority of men strut this petty earth on drum-sticks," said
General Groves. "I expect that in a few years hence the universal male
wear will be trousers."
He looked at his own legs. Time had somewhat shrunk them.
"Mr Lawrence has wonderfully improved of late," said Miss Proudfoot,
with a glance at Lucy. "I should say that when in the Navy he was one
of the handsomest men in that glorious Service."
"All praise of him is gratifying to me for his father's sake," said
Captain Acton, whilst Lucy sat in silence with the shadow of a smile
lurking about her mouth, but invisible in her soft, dreamy half-veiled
eyes.
"Would not you like to take a trip to the West Indies in your father's
ship, Miss?" said the Reverend James Prettyman, who had been
headmaster at a fashionable school for young gentlemen for many years
past in a city about twenty miles distant from Old Harbour Town.
"Only the other day," replied Lucy, "I told Mr Eagle, the mate of the
vessel, that I could not imagine a pleasanter trip than a voyage to the
West Indies in the _Minorca_, but I stipulated that the sea should be
always smooth."
"There it is!" said Miss Acton. "Give me a sea as smooth as our lawn,
and I will accompany you, my dear."
Here Mr Pierpoint, who held some influential position in connection
with Old Harbour and was one of Captain Acton's frequent guests at his
whist tables, exclaimed: "The master of the _Aurora_ told me, a day
or two ago, that Mr Lawrence was attempting a wonderful innovation in
Merchant ships by the introduction of a sick-bay, after the custom of
men-o'-war."
"It is true, sir," said Captain Acton, "and Mr Lawrence loses nothing
in my esteem by his idea and application of it. The Merchants care
nothing about their sick. 'A sick man is no man's dog,' I believe, is
one of their adages. Every vessel, supposing her to be above a certain
tonnage, whether flying a pennant or not, should have quarters properly
fitted for the reception and treatment of the sick among her crew."
"I should think so indeed, poor men!" exclaimed Miss Acton.
"Suppose she carries no surgeon?" said Mr Pierpoint.
"Her master should be able to dispense physic with the aid of a book,"
said Captain Acton. "Besides, the idea is to isolate the sufferers from
the rest of the crew in the black, wet, slush-lighted holes in which
Merchant sailors are forced to live in dozens, breathing the aroma of
their own breath, and creating such an atmosphere that the wicked halo
of miasma gleams a corpse-light round the flickering, stinking flame
which hovers at the mouth of the spout of the lamp."
"What an awful picture!" cried Miss Proudfoot.
"Who'd be a sailor in the Merchant Service!" exclaimed General Groves.
"It is a noble life," said Lucy. "But it must be nobly lived."
"Oh, madam, I thank you," exclaimed Mr Prettyman. "To live nobly you
need pure air to begin with. But it certainly does young Mr Lawrence
great credit to be the first, as I apprehend from this conversation, to
introduce sick quarters for sick men on board Merchant ships. I doubt
even if the East India Company's vessels are fitted with such humane
receptacles."
"And yet Nelson," said Lady Larmont, "liked the Merchant Service so
well that he was reluctant to leave it to enter the Royal Navy. When he
came from his West India voyage in a Merchant ship his favourite saying
was, 'Aft the more honour. Forward the better man.'"
At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the bustling
entrance of Admiral Sir William Lawrence, when of course the
conversation was immediately changed from the subject of his son and
sick-bays to other matters.
The _Minorca_ was announced to sail on Tuesday, 3rd May, at half-past
twelve o'clock. All her people without exception lived in or near Old
Harbour Town, consequently her crew was quickly assembled. On the day
previous they had bent all sails, rove all running rigging, done all
that was necessary to render a ship fit for the sea. She lay between
two other vessels, but was readily distinguished, not only by her rig
but by the height her masts towered above those of the others.
It had been arranged between Captain Acton and Admiral Lawrence that
the latter should breakfast at half-past nine with Captain Acton, who
would then fill an hour with transaction of certain business which he
could deal with in his own house, leaving the Admiral to amuse himself
in the grounds with his pipe, and, if he chose, a telescope; after
which they would walk leisurely down to Old Harbour, go on board the
_Minorca_, and take a farewell view of the vessel with a God-speed to
her new commander.
Lucy over-night had said she would join them, but she did not appear
at the breakfast table. Her father enquired for her, and was told that
she had left the house an hour earlier, or perhaps more, to take the
morning air and a walk with her dog.
Neither Captain Acton nor Miss Acton witnessed anything strange in
the absence of Lucy from the breakfast table. She was in the habit of
taking these early walks, and would often turn into a cottage whose
inmates she well knew and breakfast with the occupants, enjoying more
the egg warm from the nest, the home-cured rasher of bacon, the pot
of home-made jam, the slice of brown bread and sweet butter, the bowl
of new milk, or the cup of tea which on such grand occasions would be
introduced by her humble friends, than the choicest dainties which her
father's cook could send to the breakfast table at Old Harbour House.
"I expect you will find her down at the wharves waiting for the ship to
sail," said Miss Acton. "I met Mrs Jellybottle yesterday. She told me
that Farmer Jellybottle had received on the previous day a large parcel
of very substantial eatables from his brother, who is head gardener at
Lord Lancaster's. Lucy has possibly been tempted by the display."
"Here is her dog anyhow!" exclaimed the Admiral, as the little animal
marched into the room and stood near Lucy's chair with fore-foot lifted
as though she awaited her mistress.
"How sits the wind?" enquired Captain Acton, who being used to his
daughter's occasional absence took no particular interest in her
failure that morning to attend the breakfast table.
"I believe," said the Admiral, casting his eyes at the window, "that
it blows a pretty little off-shore breeze from the north. The sea is
rippled by it into a dark blue, and your ship will sail into it with
almost square yards."
"No ship of mine departs without my heart accompanying her," said
Captain Acton. "I believe I am bound to go in one of them to the West
Indies some day or other, but not whilst there's an enemy's cruiser to
be met with in the circle of the horizon."
"I suppose, sir," said Miss Acton to the Admiral, "that there is no
further news of the descent of the French."
"Plenty of news, madam," answered the Admiral, "but most of the reports
are lies born of fear. The French never can get a footing upon this
land."
This led to a brief argument between Captain Acton and Sir William,
who was making a prodigious breakfast off a large crab, which he
affirmed was much more delicate eating than the lobster, as the shrimp
is sweeter than the prawn, though people whom the actor Quin loved
to deride were of a different opinion. He had begun with crab, and
was now ploughing heartily through a dish of eggs and bacon, with a
view to letting go his anchor in some savoury sausages. Captain Acton
fed capriciously, as a man who thinks of his digestion more than his
appetite.
After breakfast the Captain went to his library to transact certain
business with a lawyer and one or two others, Miss Acton to the
housekeeper's room, there to receive certain poor people, and Sir
William Lawrence, filling his pipe, waited in the grounds until Captain
Acton should appear, and diverted himself as best he could with
conversation with the gardeners and in admiring the springing flowers.
He came from the kitchen garden and was standing in the middle of the
lawn, where he obtained a view of the sea betwixt the bluff on which
stood the windmill and the other bluff on which stood the lighthouse.
He sent his gaze in the direction of Old Harbour. It was a heedless
gaze. He took no particular note. Alongside the wharves a number of
small vessels were moored. They somewhat crowded the eye with their
rigging and spars. The brig-of-war lay in her accustomed place off the
pier. Apparently it was not Lieutenant Tupman's intention to put to sea
that day.
All of a sudden the Admiral's gaze, that was somewhat heedless--that
of a man who takes in a general prospect without regard to
particulars--grew intent: his eyes were fixed on Old Harbour. In a
minute they grew more than intent: astonishment dilated them, and they
were not without the sparkle of alarm. He rubbed his eyes, and removing
his pipe from his lips strained his gaze once more at the shipping in
the Harbour.
"Good God!" he ejaculated, "where is she?"
Only a little bit of sea lay within his sight; that which he had seen
ran in blue ripples between the points of cliff which framed the
entrance to Old Harbour. Though the scene was distant, his sight, for
a man of advanced age, was fairly good, and even all that distance off,
he could without much difficulty distinguish the fine lines of the
_Aurora's_ masts bearing their trucks high above the spars and rigging
of the vessels abaft and ahead of her.
He walked to a bed of flowers at which an under-gardener was at work,
and said to the man: "Have you good eyes?"
"I can see a good bit, your honour."
"Do you know the _Minorca_?"
"Oh yes, sir."
"Could you distinguish her if she's in the Harbour at this distance?"
"Why, sartinly, your honour," answered the man, looking at the Admiral.
"Then tell me if you see her," and the Admiral watched him with such an
expression of face as he might have looked with at a falling barometer
in seas distinguished for cyclones and typhoons.
The gardener gazed and gazed, and his intent regard crumpled his brow,
for he seemed ambitious to be able to say he could see the ship. After
a considerable pause, during a portion of which the man sheltered his
eyes with his hand, he exclaimed: "If the _Minorca's_ a three-masted
vessel, square rigged forward, and fore-and-aft rigged on the
mizzen-mast, then all that I can say is, your honour, she ain't among
that shipping down there."
Without speech the Admiral walked away swiftly on the stout staff he
was used to carry, striking the sward with it till you witnessed the
energy of his thoughts with each blow, and, entering the hall of Old
Harbour House, took down from its brackets a very handsome, and for
those times, powerful telescope with which he returned to the place he
had left, where he might obtain the best view of the Harbour that was
to be got from the grounds of the mansion.
He levelled the tubes at the shipping, but witnessed no signs of the
_Minorca_. He was amazed. The glass sank in his hand, and he rubbed
his naked eye and fastened it again upon the Harbour. The vessel was
to sail at half-past twelve, and it was now about a quarter past ten,
and the _Minorca_ was gone. The old gentleman took aim with his glass
at the little breadth of sea that was in sight, in a hopeless way
conceiving that a sail, invisible to his bare vision, might leap into
the lenses out of the distant blue recess, and proclaim herself to his
nautical eye as the ship that was gone. Nothing was in sight.
He stood musing. It was, as we have seen, about a quarter past ten.
Captain Acton would not have completed his business until something
after eleven. Should the Admiral invade him with the announcement of
this strange disappearance of his ship? He considered the matter a
little, and concluded that it must be impossible but that, although
Captain Acton had been silent on the subject at the breakfast table, he
must know the business of his ship, and that it was understood between
him and Mr Lawrence that if the wind served, or anything unforeseen
befell, or if Mr Lawrence in his judgment chose to sail before the time
announced, he was at liberty to let go his fasts and blow into the open
at any hour he pleased. Thus it struck the old man, though secretly he
did not regard his own reasoning as sagacious.
Nevertheless he determined to await Captain Acton's arrival from the
business which was holding him in his library; so he lighted his pipe
afresh with his singular little pistol-shaped pipe-lighter and struck
about the grounds with his staff, blowing great clouds out of the depth
of his meditation, and often heaving a sailor's blessing at the two
points of cliff which interrupted the view of the sea to east and west
of the coast.
It was a few minutes past eleven when Captain Acton came out of the
house talking to Miss Acton, who was followed by her own and Lucy's
dog.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, Admiral!" exclaimed Captain
Acton.
"Why, sir," answered the Admiral, "I don't see that we should be late
if we did not go at all."
"I don't quite understand," said Captain Acton, gazing with friendly
interest at the jolly, round, weather-dyed face of Sir William, whose
looks certainly at this moment did not wear the jocund complexion they
were used to carry.
"Your telescope is in the hall, sir," said the Admiral. "But your sight
is very good. I presume that you are aware that your ship has left her
berth, and is not in the Harbour."
"Not in the Harbour!" cried Miss Acton. "Good gracious, has she sunk,
do you think?"
Captain Acton sent a swift and searching glance at the shipping in the
distance. He then with quick steps fetched his glass. By his movements
and countenance the Admiral immediately perceived that he did not know
his ship had sailed. He pointed the telescope at the shipping. The
_Minorca_ was certainly not one of them. The river flowed bare from the
sea under its bridges to its inland recesses, and offered no creek nor
shelter to the eye for a vessel of any tonnage. If the barque was not
in the Harbour, she had put to sea. Both observers on the lawn were
sailors, and did not need to be told this.
"If your son has sailed," said Captain Acton, with a face charged with
perplexity, doubt, irritation, and astonishment, "he had no authority
to do so. What has caused him to take this step? Surely as a sailor who
has served the State, he, before all masters in the Merchant Service,
ought to understand the meaning of the word of command."
Sir William's countenance resembled the expression that probably
decorated Captain Marryat's Port Admiral when he was told in no
uncompromising language, "You be damned!"
"And where, pray, is Lucy?" said Miss Acton, in a voice querulous with
alarm and other feelings, for Miss Acton was one of those old ladies
who are always praising Providence for its blessings, but who are very
willing to find calamity in trifles. "She is a long time gone. Who
says that she breakfasted with the Jellybottles? And at what time did
she leave the house? And if Mamie went with her why is she here?" she
added, turning her eyes upon the little terrier.
The hall door was wide open; a footman was crossing the hall. Captain
Acton called to him.
"What time this morning did Miss Lucy leave the house?"
"I don't know, sir. I'll ascertain, sir," and the man disappeared.
"The _Minorca not_ in the Harbour!" exclaimed Miss Acton, staring
at the cluster of rigs, beyond which rose the breadth of narrow sea
shining in a blue tremble to its horizon. "No accident could have
happened or you would have heard, brother."
"Miss Lucy went out at about half-past seven, sir," said the footman.
"Come, Admiral, we will walk to the Harbour and enquire into this
matter," said Captain Acton, who was somewhat pale and looked extremely
disconcerted.
"But where is Lucy?" cried Miss Acton.
"Send the people about and make enquiries," answered Captain Acton.
"She is making calls. It is the _Minorca_ that has disappeared."
"But what a dreadful responsibility to leave upon my shoulders," said
Miss Acton. "Suppose those I send about come back and say she is not to
be found? It is more than I can bear. The charge is too awful! What am
I to do if she is not to be found?"
"But she is to be found," cried Captain Acton, surveying his sister
with a quarterdeck severity of look. "What do you think? That Lucy has
run away with the ship? She has breakfasted somewhere and is gossiping
somewhere else. I leave you to make enquiries, sister. The area to be
covered is not wide. She will be telling you where she has been before
we return. Come, Sir William, this is the most extraordinary thing that
has happened to me in my time!"
The two gentlemen set out at a vigorous pace, leaving the poor old
lady overwhelmed, motionless, and gaping with the alarm raised in
her by this enormous obligation of discovering whether her niece had
breakfasted with the Jellybottles or with other folks, where she was,
and why she had not returned since half-past seven that morning.
All the conversation of the two officers consisted of idle speculations
as to the cause of the _Minorca_ having sailed some hours before the
time announced for her departure. It was clearly necessary that Mr
Lawrence should have much business to do before he could quit his
moorings, and that if the ship had sailed as early as the Captain
and the Admiral suspected, her captain had completed all necessary
arrangements on the previous day. For first the loading of the vessel
was to be fully completed, and all the necessary papers and documents
to be on board, the clearance or transire from the Customs duly
obtained, and the master furnished with copies of the charter party or
memorandum of charter party and of the policies of insurance on both
ship and goods.
"I saw Mr Lawrence on several occasions yesterday," exclaimed Captain
Acton, "and he did not suggest by a syllable that he was making ready
to sail early this morning before the various officials he would have
to see were aboard."
The Admiral struck his staff strongly upon the earth and stopped to
look through a break in the hedge in the lane or road which they were
descending, at Old Harbour: the Captain stopped too; they stared amain.
"But he must have had some object!" cried the old Admiral, whose face
was strongly flushed with heat and conflicting passions. "We shall very
shortly find out what that object is, and I shall feel very greatly
astonished if it does not satisfy you, sir, as well as myself."
They resumed their walk. When they had reached the bridge they found
old Mr Greyquill, leaning over the rail, and gazing with intentness,
with a sort of lifting leer which could not be defined as a smile,
though it was like the shadow of one, in the direction of Old Harbour.
This person was not used to address either of the gentlemen on meeting
them in the public streets. They were accustomed to nod in silence. But
this morning as the Admiral and the Captain passed him, the Admiral
so close as to brush his coat-tail, the old scrivener turned with a
rapid motion and exclaimed, still preserving his singular leer: "I
beg pardon, gentlemen, but as I fail to see the _Minorca_ amongst the
ships, may I enquire if she has sailed?"
"That, sir, is the errand which is carrying us to the wharves,"
answered the Admiral, and the two passed on, whilst Mr Greyquill,
retaining a hold on the rail of the bridge with his hand, gazed after
them with an unchanged face.
It was hard upon twelve o'clock when Captain Acton and his friend
reached the wharves. Though there was plenty of shipping about to
suggest occupation there was little apparently doing. Here and there a
song was monotonously sung by sailors or labourers who were leisurely
taking in or discharging cargo. Had the _Minorca_ sailed at her
appointed hour the little Harbour would no doubt have looked gay with
colours flying on the ships and plenty of gossips to see the vessels
off on the wharf.
Captain Acton and the Admiral turned into the Custom House, and the
first person they met after leaving it was Josiah Weaver, master of
the _Aurora_, a thick-set man of a dark-red complexion rendered more
glowing still by the sun, greasy deep-red hair, ear-rings, and brown
eyes which moved sharply in their sheaths.
"I find," cried Captain Acton, eagerly addressing him, "that the
_Minorca_ has sailed. How is this? Do you know anything about the
matter?"
"She left the Harbour at about a quarter past eight this morning, sir,"
answered Weaver.
"At about a quarter past eight!" exclaimed Captain Acton. "What was Mr
Lawrence's object in quitting his berth before the fixed time?"
Captain Weaver faintly smiled, slightly glancing at Admiral Lawrence.
"When I saw the ship starting," said he, "I walked over to her and
asked Mr Lawrence, who was standing right aft watching the crew
working, making sail and so forth, what made him in such a hurry, and
he answered that he had received news on the previous night of a French
cruiser that was hovering over this part of the coast, that when last
seen she was standing to the east'ard, and that he had made up his
mind to sneak the _Minorca_ out at daybreak if possible so as to have
the heels of her should she shift her helm, as he had no mind to start
his first voyage in Captain Acton's employ by being taken by a French
cruiser and locked up for a time no man could detarmine."
"And that was the reason for sailing which he gave you?" said Captain
Acton.
"Yes, sir."
Captain Acton looked at the Admiral, who was staring sternly into
Captain Weaver's face.
"Mr Lawrence told you," said Captain Acton, "that he had received the
news of this cruiser last night. At what hour, do you think?"
"That, sir, I couldn't say," answered Captain Weaver. "But we might
take it as his having heard it after eight o'clock."
"In that case he must have intended during the day," said Captain
Acton, addressing the Admiral, "to sail early this morning. For, as I
have explained to you, he could have had no time to do his business
at so early an hour at which he started this morning, nor would the
officials be seen at that time. Therefore he must have made the
necessary arrangements yesterday for what he contemplated as a daybreak
departure this morning."
"Does the ship call anywhere in England before her final departure for
her port?" asked the Admiral in a voice that proclaimed his heart hot
with bewilderment, doubt, and anger.
"No, sir," answered Captain Acton.
"A pity!" said the Admiral, striking the ground with his staff.
"Otherwise I would have posted it, caught him, and asked him his
reason, which to satisfy me would have to prove infinitely more
intelligible than the one Captain Weaver has repeated."
"I saw him two or three times yesterday," said Captain Acton. "He had
nothing to say about French cruisers in the offing. Nor did he give
me a hint that he was taking the necessary steps to quit this Harbour
early this morning."
"Is the ship in sight?" exclaimed the Admiral.
"No, sir. A man came down from the cliffs," answered Captain Weaver,
"and I asked him that question, and he said she'd rounded the coast to
the west'ard."
"The pilot," said Captain Acton, "was John Andrews. Was he on board, do
you know?"
"Yes, sir," answered Captain Weaver, "I took notice of him on the
fok'sle."
They could obtain no further information from Captain Weaver. They
called at "The Swan" and saw the landlord, who told them that he had
seen Mr Lawrence on the previous day, that, in fact, he had lunched at
the Inn and sat next him, but had said never a word about the change
in the sailing of his ship. They called upon Mrs Andrews, the pilot's
wife, who informed them that Mr Lawrence had told her husband the
day before that the hour of sailing had been changed, and that the
_Minorca_ would leave Old Harbour shortly after eight o'clock instead
of half-past twelve.
"Did Mr Lawrence state the reason of this change?" enquired Captain
Acton.
"Not to my husband, sir, who naturally thought the matter all right,
and said he would be on board at half-past seven."
They met Lieutenant Tupman of the _Saucy_ brig-of-war, a large, fat,
purple, smiling man, with the word grog written in small red veins over
his nose and parts of his cheeks: obviously a good-natured, drunken
fellow who would fight, no doubt, if a Frenchman opposed him, but who
preferred his bed and "The Swan" to frequent sentinel cruisings in his
little ship of war. Both gentlemen knew him slightly. They ventured on
this occasion to stop and accost him. They asked him if it was true
that news of a French cruiser being off the coast had come to hand, and
he answered that he had not heard of such a ship being near the coast.
The replies of other questions put to Mr Tupman were equally
unsatisfactory, and it now being past one o'clock and the information
the Captain and the Admiral had obtained not being worth the questions
that had elicited it, they stepped on to the bridge and walked in
the direction of Old Harbour House, the Admiral saying that he would
accompany the Captain to his home, as he was anxious to hear if Miss
Acton had obtained news of Lucy.