The wind was favourable in more senses than one. Besides blowing in the
desired direction, it kept steady and continuous,--never rising above a
gentle breeze, nor again returning to that calm from which they had just
escaped, and the recurrence of which, to the captain of the _Catamaran_,
would have been almost as unwelcome as a gale.
It was just the sort of wind for the trial of a new craft--barely
ruffling the surface of the sea, and yet filling the sail till its sheet
was as taut as a bow-string. As it blew direct from the east, that part
of the _Catamaran_ which Ben had christened her _head_ was pointed due
westward; and to hinder the craft from veering round, or luffing back
into the eye of the wind, her builders had constructed a steering
apparatus at the stern. It was simply a very large oar,--one that had
appertained to the longboat of the _Pandora_,--placed fore and aft
across the swell of the stern water-cask. It was held in that position
by ropes attaching it to the cask, at the same time that they permitted
it to play through the water, and perform the office of a rudder. By
means of this simple contrivance,--which had been rigged before starting
on her cruise,--the _Catamaran_ could be steered to any point of the
compass, and kept either before the wind, or luffed up as close to it as
she was capable of sailing.
Of course it required one or other of them to be always at the "wheel,"
as Ben facetiously styled the steering apparatus, and the first spell of
this duty the captain had taken upon himself, considering it too
important,--so long as it was only on trial,--to be intrusted either to
Snowball or little William. After they should get fairly under way, and
there could be no longer any doubt as to the sailing qualities of the
_Catamaran_, both the above-mentioned individuals would be expected to
take their turn "at the wheel."
For more than an hour the _Catamaran_ continued her course, without
anything occurring to interrupt the "even tenor of her way." Her
captain, seated in the stern, and still in charge of the steering-oar,
was the only one occupied in the conduct of the craft. Snowball was
busy among his stores,--most of which lay in a mass amidships,--
arranging them into some sort of order, and placing each article in the
most suitable position to withstand any sudden assault of the winds and
waves.
Little William and Lilly Lalee were far forward against the cask which
represented the head of the craft, and which, being quite empty, stood
high above the surface of the water.
Neither was engaged in any particular employment,--except in talking
kindly to each other, and at intervals exchanging expressions of joy at
the fortune that had so singularly reunited them under two such
courageous protectors.
It is true that, on board the slaver,--during that brief voyage, brought
to such an abrupt and disastrous termination,--the two had seen but
little of one another, and knew less. The pretty little Portuguese had
been kept within the cabin, never going beyond the confines of the
"quarter"; while the English lad, in continual fear of receiving rough
treatment from either the captain or mates, rarely ventured within that
sacred precinct unless in obedience to some command from his dreaded
superiors.
Then stayed he only long enough to execute the order as speedily as
possible,--knowing that to linger by the cabin would be to expose
himself to rude insult,--perhaps to be pitched into the scuppers or
kicked back to the forecastle.
Under such disadvantageous circumstances, it is not to be wondered at
that the sailor-boy found but few opportunities of holding communication
with the half-caste girl, who, by the singular chances already stated,
had been his fellow-voyager on board the ill-fated bark.
Though he had held but slight converse with his youthful _compagnon du
voyage_, and knew but little either of her moral or intellectual
character, he was nevertheless most intimately acquainted with her
personal appearance. There was not a feature in her pretty, sweet face,
not a ringlet in her jetty curling hair, with which his eyes were not
perfectly familiar.
Ofttimes had he stood,--half-screened behind the sails,--gazing upon her
as she loitered by the cabin hatch, surrounded by rude ruffian forms,
like a little white lamb in the midst of so many wolves.
Ofttimes had the sight caused his pulse to beat and his heart to throb
with throes in which pain and pleasure were equally commingled, but the
cause of which he could not comprehend.
Now, seated side by side with this young creature on board the
_Catamaran_,--even on that frail embarkation, which at any moment might
be scattered to the winds, or whelmed under the black billows of the
sea,--the sailor-boy no longer felt pain while gazing in her face, but
only that sweet incomprehensible pleasure.