CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A bright moon was floating in the pure ether of that lovely clime, as

the _Ione_, under all sail, glided out from the calm waters of the

harbour of Valetta on to the open sea. No sooner had she got beyond the

shelter of Saint Elmo than she heeled over to the force of a brisk

north-westerly breeze, which sent her through the water at the rate of

some seven or eight knots an hour, to the no small satisfaction of all

on board. No time had been lost in getting ready for sea. The purser

had got off his stores with unusual despatch; the first lieutenant had

received what he required from the dockyard; the officers, who were on

shore, had been sent for and collected; sea stock had been laid in by

the caterers of the gun-room and midshipmen's mess, and Signor Michael,

from Nix Mangiare Stairs, had not neglected to send the groceries which

were ordered; little was forgotten, and no one was left behind. The

commander had been the most busy, and those who saw the calm and

composed way in which he went about the business in which he was

occupied, could scarcely have supposed the anguish which had so lately

rent his mind. After he had spoken to his first lieutenant, he had

again gone on shore, and tried to find out the three Greeks who had

deposed to having been robbed by pirates; but as they had quitted Malta,

he looked over the copies of their depositions, and he there found it

stated that the vessel which had attacked theirs was a large polacca

brig, supposed to be the _Sea Hawk_, and there was further a full

description of her and her commander. The boatman, Manuel, was

examined, but little could be gleaned from him but a description of the

person he had put on board the speronara, which answered to that given

by the Greeks; and the conclusion arrived at was the correct one, that

he was no other than Zappa himself, and that he had employed the

speronara merely to bring him to Malta and to carry him on board his own

vessel, which must have remained all the time in the offing. It might

be supposed that Captain Fleetwood would first have gone in search of

the speronara, but he considered that by so doing he should lose much

valuable time without a prospect of gaining any adequate information;

and he therefore resolved at once to sail to the eastward, touching at

Cephalonia, on the chance of learning something to guide his future

course.

The moment the object of the voyage was known, there was not a man or

boy on board who did not zealously enter into it; and many became almost

as eager to fall in with the _Sea Hawk_, and to recover the prisoners,

if any were still alive, as could have been the commander himself. It

was the universal subject of conversation, morning, noon, and night, in

the gun-room, the midshipmen's berth, and at the messes of the petty

officers and men. Many a midnight watch was made to pass rapidly away

by discussions as to the probabilities of their success, and with yarns

of length interminable, about pirates and robberies on the high seas.

Far too sacred were held the feelings of the commander to allow any one

to allude even to the subject to him; and though he doubtlessly thought

more than any one else about it, he endeavoured to maintain his usual

tranquil exterior. It was sad, however, to perceive that anxiety was

rapidly thinning his cheek and dimming the lustre of his eye, though it

could not quench the fire which would urge him to continue the search as

long as life endured. He remained much in his cabin, poring over charts

of the Greek Archipelago, and studying all the books he possessed,

describing the islands. When he came on deck, it was to glean

information from those who had visited that part of the Mediterranean,

or to discuss with Saltwell the plan of operations he had commenced

arranging, but in the details of which he purposed to be guided by the

accounts he should receive wherever they touched.

Every sail they sighted was overhauled, provided she did not lead them

much out of their course, in the hopes of gaining tidings either of the

survivors of the _Zodiac's_ crew or of the pirate brig, and also to urge

those bound in the same direction to aid in the search.

Every one on board the _Ione_ prayed for a fair wind, and plenty of it,

to carry them along rapidly to the scene of their operations. The

officers, who could but sympathise with their captain from having known

Ada Garden, were, of course, the most eager, and never, perhaps, were a

set of men collected better able to aid in accomplishing the same

object.

Mr Saltwell, the first lieutenant, was a first-rate officer. He had

been constantly before at sea as a first lieutenant; for though his good

qualities were known in the service, he had very little interest.

Whatever was the work in hand, he contrived to get it done in the best

possible way without noise or trouble, so that he was always liked by

the men, and the ships in which he served were kept in excellent order.

In appearance he was slight and dark, for his countenance was well

bronzed by tropical suns, and he was too active to grow fat. His

manners were gentlemanly, though he had a remarkably small amount of

soft-sawder about him; and all sincerity himself, he could not believe

that people were speaking falsely to him, and was at times rather apt to

come out roundly with the truth, to the astonishment of those who heard

him; so that he was clearly not fitted to be a courtier. Captain

Fleetwood had a great respect and regard for him, as he knew him well,

for they had before served together.

The second lieutenant, Henry Linton, was a young man of good family and

considerable interest, he had been made a lieutenant as soon as he had

served his time, and he expected shortly to receive his commander's

commission. He was a very gentlemanly, amiable fellow; and as he had

good sense and much observation, and had always attended to his duty, he

was a very fair seaman and a good officer. In his heart of hearts he

rather pitied, not to say despised, Saltwell, for his want of the polish

he possessed and his indifference to the elegancies of life, though he

was not unable to appreciate his messmate's frankness of manner and

truthfulness of character. His foible was his admiration for the poets,

and his belief that he could write poetry and was a first-rate critic.

The purser, Mr Jones, was an honest, painstaking man, with a large

family, and he came to sea for their benefit, after having nearly given

up the service.

Than the master, no one in the service was a better navigator. He was a

self-taught genius, for he had gone to sea originally before the mast,

and even in that capacity had found time to gain instructions in

navigation, geography, history, and many other sciences. He was for

some time rated as a schoolmaster of a frigate, and afterwards entered

as a master's assistant, and was soon promoted to the rank of master.

Mr Norton was, notwithstanding his early associates, a man of pleasing,

gentlemanly manners, and a real favourite with all hands, and his vast

fund of information and anecdote made him a great acquisition to a mess.

The surgeon, Mr Viall, was, for a wonder, an Englishman. He was

supposed to be able to amputate limbs with great accuracy, and was a

very respectable man. Though he had been some years at sea, he had

never contrived to learn anything about nautical affairs; and one day,

in Malta harbour, he went on board a large merchantman, which happened

to be brought up at no great distance from his ship, and was going below

before he discovered that he had got into the wrong box.

The assistant-surgeon, O'Farrall, was an Irishman, and much more of a

character. He had, shortly before the time of which I speak, come to

sea for the first time. A day or two after he had joined the _Ione_,

one of the marines insulted him by quizzing his Irish brogue, so he

forthwith lodged his complaint with Mr Saltwell. The first lieutenant

desired him to point out the man.

"Faith, I don't remember exactly the cut of his mug," said he; "but I

made sure of knowing the spalpeen again by that same, that his name is

Tower."

"How do you know that his name is Tower? I think he must have deceived

you. We havn't a man of that name on board."

"Oh! by--, he couldn't decave me, lieutenant, darlin', then; for though

he didn't recollect it, I'll be sworn, or he'd a kept a more dacent

tongue in his mouth, I saw his name of Tower graven on his musket."

Most of the other members of the midshipmen's berth I have already

described.

There was a mate of the name of Grummit, who had been for some years

waiting for his promotion, but was of so hopeful a disposition, that he

always expected his commission out by the following packet; and there

was a master's assistant, called Samuel Spike, who considered himself

capable of commanding the allied fleets of Europe; and a clerk, named

Smith, who intended, when he had made his fortune and retired from the

Service, to become First Lord of the Treasury; but as these delusions

did not prevent them from attending to their duties, and they certainly

appeared to contribute very much to the happiness of the young men who

entertained them, nobody interfered with them. I ought not to forget to

mention among the officers, the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter. The

most remarkable circumstance connected with them was, that their names

were respectively Brown, Black, and White. They were all good seamen,

and properly impressed with the importance of their offices. If Brown

had, like his superiors, a weakness, it was in the belief that not a

boatswain in the service could pipe better, or had a louder voice than

himself, as also that he deserved a much higher rating than he

possessed.

"A sail on the larboard bow," hailed the look-out from the mast-head.

"What does she look like?" inquired Mr Saltwell, who was on deck.

"A large brig, sir, close hauled on the larboard tack," was the answer.

The wind at the time was about north-west.

The first lieutenant, with his glass slung across his shoulder,

instantly went aloft. He could see about half way down her topsails,

and there was something in the look of them which made him think it was

worth while overhauling her. He came down, and went into the cabin to

report her to Captain Fleetwood.

On his return the yards were braced up a little, and the course altered

three points more to the northward. Captain Fleetwood soon came on

deck, and went aloft to examine the chase. As the _Ione_ was already

carrying as much canvas as could possibly be set, little more could be

done to make her sail faster.

Of course, bound as they were on what might prove a long and arduous

cruise, it would not have done to start the water, or lighten the ship

in any way; and, in a smooth sea, the common expedient of slinging the

hammocks, and making the watch below turn in with round shot in their

arms, would have been of no avail. The breeze, however, favoured them;

for while the _Ione_ was heeling over with it almost to her bearings,

the chase lay nearly becalmed. She had no royals set, and her foresail

was hauled up, so that they neared her rapidly.

"I suspect our friend there keeps a bad look-out; for I don't think he

has seen us yet," observed Mr Saltwell to the master.

"If that is the case, he is not the fellow we are in search of,"

answered Mr Norton. "A pirate would have his eyes about him."

"Perhaps, as he is becalmed and cannot get away, he hopes, by apparent

indifference to our approach, to deceive us as to his character,"

suggested Linton; "or he may have mistaken us for a merchantman, and

expects to make a prize of us."

"He'll find he's caught a Tartar," said Saltwell; "but he must be blind

not to see by the cut of our canvas what we are, even at this distance."

"Perhaps, he trusts to a fleet pair of heels, and we shall have him

showing them to us before long," said Linton. "I do not think there is

anything yet to prove that he is not the pirate we are looking for.

That fellow Zappa is a bold and crafty scoundrel, as his late visit to

Malta and his successful attack on the Austrian brig sufficiently

proves. He may have a mind to engage us, perhaps."

"You don't know the Greeks, if you think so," said Saltwell. "Why, you

must have pictured him to yourself like one of the heroes in the

romances you are so fond of, who fight alone for love and glory, and

whose greatest delight is to lay their ships alongside an enemy of

greater force, in order to prove how superior knaves are to honest men.

Depend upon it, Signor Zappa will keep clear of us, if he can."

"Well, but what do you say to his attacking an Austrian man-of-war, and

capturing her?" urged Linton. "That looks something like the chivalry

of piracy."

"As to that, in the first place, he discovered, by some means or other,

that she had specie on board; and she was also of much less force than

his vessel. He carries, it is said, sixteen guns, and she had but

eight," answered Saltwell. "So he followed her for some time, till he

surprised her one dark night, and captured her before her crew had time

to go to quarters. It did not say much for Austrian naval discipline,

though it was not an enterprise Zappa had any great reason to boast of,

either."

"If the account I heard is true, he acted, however, the part of a

magnanimous conqueror; for, after he had rifled the brig, and taken

everything he wanted out of her, he allowed her and her officers and

crew to go free, without murdering a soul of them, which, at all events,

speaks in his favour," said Linton.

"Well, if that is his vessel, we shall soon know more about him and

her," observed Saltwell. "We are nearing her fast. I shall go aloft,

and try if I can make out what her hull is like."

They drew nearer and nearer the stranger, who still continued her course

to the northward under the same easy sail.

At last, her hull was visible from the deck.

Mr Saltwell had his glass fixed on her, as had Captain Fleetwood.

"What do you make her out to be, Mr Saltwell?" said the captain.

"She is polacca rigged, with raking masts, and has a long, low, dark

hull," answered the first lieutenant.

"The very description of the _Sea Hawk_," exclaimed Linton. "I hope to

goodness it may be her."

"I trust it may," said Captain Fleetwood, drawing in his breath, and

compressing his lips, to conceal his agitation.

The excitement on board now increased, as there appeared a greater

probability of the stranger proving to be the pirate.

Anxiously beat the heart of Captain Fleetwood. What might be the

consequence, supposing the prisoners were on board, and his Ada among

them? Would the pirate hold them as hostages? Zappa, he was aware,

well knew, from what he had learned at the ball at Malta, how dear Ada

Garden was to him, and what, in consequence, might be the pirate's

conduct?

His orders were to burn, sink, or destroy the rover, wherever he should

find him; and he resolved to do his duty.

As he walked the deck in silence, he glanced his eye aloft more

frequently than usual to see how the sails stood. They were never

better set. Every brace and bowline was taut to a nicety. Then he

would look over the bulwarks to judge of the rate at which they were

slipping through the water, by the appearance of the sparkling bubbles,

as they darted off from the side, and circled in eddies under the

counter, and many an earnest gaze did he cast at the chase to assure

himself that he was still coming up with her. It is a saying, that when

a hare runs, the dogs will follow--it is equally true at sea, even when

the order is reversed, if a vessel makes sail in chase, the chase will

generally run away. Hitherto the officers of the _Ione_ had found the

vessel in sight offering an exception to the rule.

"Let her see our colours, Mr Saltwell. It may induce her to show hers

in return."

The British ensign flew out to the breeze at the peak of the _Ione_;

but, for some time, no attention was paid to it by the stranger--

perhaps, it might not have been observed--at all events, no answer was

made.

"Ah, the rascal is ashamed of his nation, or is puzzled to know what

bunting to show us," said the master. "No, by Jove; there flies the new

flag of independence, and a pennant to boot. He wishes to make us

suppose he is a Greek man-of-war."

"He may try to do so, but he will not deceive us," said Linton.

"There's a most piratical cut about the fellow, which is enough to

condemn him anywhere."

"We shall soon get her within range of our long guns, and we shall then

see what she is made of," observed Saltwell, eyeing her. "Shall we get

the gun ready, sir?" he asked of Captain Fleetwood.

"You may, Mr Saltwell; but as long as she does not show any intention

of avoiding us, on no account fire," was the answer.

"He seems in no hurry to move, at all events," observed the first

lieutenant. He had scarcely spoken, however, before the breeze which

the _Ione_ had brought up with her reached the stranger, and, as if to

make amends for her former inactivity, the heavy folds of the foresail

were let fall, the royals were sent aloft, her head fell off from the

wind, studdensail after studdensail was set, and away she flew, before

the freshening breeze, like a sea-fowl darting from its slumber on the

wave, at a rate which those on board the British ship felt it would take

their utmost speed to compete with.

"Up with the helm--square away the yards, Mr Saltwell," exclaimed

Captain Fleetwood, as soon as he saw what she was about to do.

"Ay, ay, sir. All hands make sail," cried Saltwell.

"All hands make sail," was echoed along the decks.

The men sprang on deck. The order to set the studden-sails was given.

The hands flew aloft, and before the Greek had got all his canvas up,

the _Ione_ had every stitch she could carry packed on her. This gave

her an advantage, but the stranger was still far beyond the range of her

long guns.

A stern chase is so proverbially a long chase, especially when the

leading vessel happens to be the fastest, as there soon appeared reason

to believe was the case in the present instance, that I will not weary

the reader by describing it, but, for the present, will leave His

Majesty's ship _Ione_ running under all sail, in chase of a suspicious

craft, towards the island-studded shores of Greece.

The Pirate of the Mediterranean: A Tale of the Sea · 第 20 / 46 题