"'Twas not without some reason, for the wind
Increased at night, until it blew a gale;
And though 'twas not much to a naval mind,
Some landsmen would have look'd a little pale,
For sailors are, in fact, a different kind;
At sunset they began to take in sail,
For the sky show'd it would come on to blow,
And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so."
BYRON.
As it was just past the turn of the day, Bluewater determined to linger
on the cliffs for several hours, or until it was time to think of his
dinner. Abstracted as his thoughts were habitually, his mind found
occupation and pleasure in witnessing the evolutions that succeeded
among the ships; some of which evolutions it may be well now briefly to
relate.
Sir Gervaise Oakes' foot had not been on the deck of the Plantagenet
five minutes, before a signal for all commanders was flying at that
vessel's mast-head. In ten minutes more every captain of the fleet, with
the exception of those belonging to the vessels in the offing, were in
the flag-ship's cabin, listening to the intentions and instructions of
the vice-admiral.
"My plan of sailing, gentlemen, is easily comprehended," continued the
commander-in-chief, after he had explained his general intentions to
chase and engage; "and everyone of you will implicitly follow it. We
have the tide strong at ebb, and a good six-knot breeze is coming up at
south-west. I shall weigh, with my yards square, and keep them so, until
the ship has drawn out of the fleet, and then I shall luff up on a taut
bowline and on the starboard tack, bringing the ebb well under my
lee-bow. This will hawse the ship over towards Morlaix, and bringing us
quite as far to windward as is desirable. While the ebb lasts, and this
breeze stands, we shall have plain sailing; the difficulty will come on
the flood, or with a shift of wind. The ships that come out last must be
careful to keep their seconds, ahead and astern, in plain sight, and
regulate their movements, as much as they can, by the leading vessels.
The object is to spread as wide a clew as possible, while we hold the
ships within signal-distance of each other. Towards sunset I shall
shorten sail, and the line will close up within a league from vessel to
vessel, and I have told Bluewater to use his discretion about coming out
with the last ships, though I have requested him to hold on as long as
he shall deem it prudent, in the hope of receiving another express from
the Admiralty. When the flood makes, I do not intend to go about, but
shall continue on the starboard tack, and I wish you all to do the same.
This will bring the leading vessels considerably to windward of those
astern, and may possibly throw the fleet into a bow and quarter line.
Being in the van, it will fall to my duty to look to this, and to watch
for the consequences. But I ask of you to keep an eye on the weather,
and to hold your ships within plain signal-distance of each other. If it
come on thick, or to blow very hard, we must close, from van to rear,
and try our luck, in a search in compact order. Let the man who first
sees the enemy make himself heard at once, and send the news, with the
bearings of the French, both ahead and astern, as fast as possible. In
that case you will all close on the point from which the intelligence
comes; and, mark me, no cruising to get to windward, in your own
fashions, as if you sailed with roving commissions. You know I'll not
stand _that_. And now, gentlemen, it is probable that we shall all never
meet again. God bless you! Come and shake hands with me, one by one, and
then to your boats, for the first lieutenant has just sent Greenly word
that we are up and down. Let him trip, Greenly, and be off as soon as we
can."
The leave-taking, a scene in which joyousness and sadness were strangely
mingled, succeeded, and then the captains disappeared. From that moment
every mind was bent on sailing.
Although Bluewater did not witness the scene in the Plantagenet's cabin,
he pictured it, in his mind's eye, and remained on the cliffs to watch
the succeeding movements. As Wycherly had disappeared in the house, and
Dutton clung to his flag-staff, the rear-admiral had no one but Lord
Geoffrey for a companion. The latter, perceiving that his relation did
not seem disposed to converse, had the tact to be silent himself; a task
that was less difficult than common, on account of the interest he felt
in the spectacle.
The boats of the different captains were still shoving off from the
starboard side of the Plantagenet, whither etiquette had brought them
together, in a little crowd, when her three top-sails fell, and their
sheets steadily drew the clews towards the ends of the lower yards. Even
while this was in process, the yards began to ascend, and rose with that
steady but graduated movement which marks the operation in a man-of-war.
All three were fairly mast-headed in two minutes. As the wind struck the
canvass obliquely, the sails filled as they opened their folds, and, by
the time their surfaces were flattened by distension, the Plantagenet
steadily moved from her late berth, advancing slowly against a strong
tide, out of the group of ships, among which she had been anchored. This
was a beautiful evolution, resembling that of a sea-fowl, which lazily
rises on its element, spreads its wings, emerges from the water, and
glides away to some distant and unseen point.
The movement of the flag-ship was stately, measured, and grand. For five
minutes she held her way nearly due east, with the wind on her starboard
quarter, meeting the tide in a direct line; until, having drawn
sufficiently ahead of the fleet, she let fall her courses, sheeted home
top-gallant-sails and royals, set her spanker, jibs, and stay-sails, and
braced up sharp on a wind, with her head at south-southeast. This
brought the tide well under her lee fore-chains, and set her rapidly off
the land, and to windward. As she trimmed her sails, and steadied her
bowlines, she fired a gun, made the numbers of the vessels in the offing
to weigh, and to pass within hail. All this did Bluewater note, with the
attention of an _amateur_, as well as with the critical analysis of a
_connoisseur_.
"Very handsomely done, Master Geoffrey--very handsomely done, it must be
allowed! never did a bird quit a flock with less fuss, or more
beautifully, than the Plantagenet has drawn out of the fleet. It must be
admitted that Greenly knows how to handle his ship."
"I fancy Captain Stowel would have done quite as well with the Cæsar,
sir," answered the boy, with a proper esprit-de-_ship_. "Don't you
remember, Admiral Bluewater, the time when we got under way off
l'Orient, with the wind blowing a gale directly on shore? Even Sir
Gervaise said, afterwards, that we lost less ground than any ship in the
fleet, and yet the Plantagenet is the most weatherly two-decker in the
navy; as every body says."
"Every body!--She is certainly a weatherly vessel, but not more so than
several others. Whom did you ever hear give that character to this
particular ship?"
"Why, sir, her reefers are always bragging as much as _that_; and a
great deal _more_, too."
"Her reefers!--Young gentlemen are particularly struck with the charms
of their first loves, both ashore and afloat, my boy. Did you ever hear
an _old seaman_ say that much for the Plantagenet?"
"I think I have, sir," returned Lord Geoffrey, blushing. "Galleygo, Sir
Gervaise's steward, is commonly repeating some such stuff or other. They
are furious braggarts, the Plantagenet's, all round, sir."
"That comes honestly," answered Bluewater, smiling, "her namesakes and
predecessors of old, having some such characteristic, too. Look at that
ship's yards, boy, and learn how to trim a vessel's sails on a wind. The
pencil of a painter could not draw lines more accurate!"
"Captain Stowel tells us, sir, that the yards ought not to be braced in
exactly alike; but that we ought to check the weather-braces, a little,
as we go aloft, so that the top-sail yard should point a little less
forward than the lower yard, and the topgallant than the top-sail."
"You are quite right in taking Stowel's opinion in all such matters,
Geoffrey: but has not Captain Greenly done the same thing in the
Plantagenet? When I speak of symmetry, I mean the symmetry of a seaman."
The boy was silenced, though exceedingly reluctant to admit that any
ship could equal his own. In the mean time, there was every appearance
of a change in the weather. Just about the time the Plantagenet braced
up, the wind freshened, and in ten minutes it blew a stiff breeze. Some
time before the admiral spoke the vessels outside, he was compelled to
take in all his light canvass; and when he filled, again, after giving
his orders to the frigate and sloop, the topgallant sheets were let fly,
a single reef was taken in the top-sails, and the lighter sails were set
over them. This change in the weather, more especially as the night
threatened to be clouded, if not absolutely dark, would necessarily
bring about a corresponding change in the plan of sailing, reducing the
intervals between the departures of the vessels, quite one-half. To such
vicissitudes are all maritime operations liable, and it is fortunate
when there is sufficient capacity in the leaders to remedy them.
In less than an hour, the Plantagenet's hull began to sink, to those on
a level with it, when the Carnatic tripped her anchor, opened her
canvass, shot out of the fleet, hauled by the wind, and followed in the
admiral's wake. So accurate was the course she steered, that, half an
hour after she had braced up, a hawse-bucket, which had been dropped
from the Plantagenet in hauling water, was picked up. We may add, here,
though it will be a little anticipating events, that the Thunderer
followed the Carnatic; the Blenheim the Thunderer; the Achilles the
Blenheim; the Warspite the Achilles; the Dover the Warspite; the York
the Dover; the Elizabeth the York; the Dublin the Elizabeth; and the
Cæsar the Dublin. But hours passed before all these ships were in
motion, and hours in which we shall have some occurrences to relate that
took place on shore. Still it will aid the reader in better
understanding the future incidents of our tale, if we describe, at once,
some of the circumstances under which all these ships got in motion.
By the time the Plantagenet's top-sails were beginning to dip from the
cliffs, the Carnatic, the Thunderer, the Blenheim, the Achilles, and the
Warspite were all stretching out in line, with intervals of quite two
leagues between them, under as much canvass as they could now bear. The
admiral had shortened sail the most, and was evidently allowing the
Carnatic to close, most probably on account of the threatening look of
the sky, to windward; while he was suffering the frigate and sloop, the
Chloe and Driver, to pass ahead of him, the one on his weather, and the
other on his lee bow. When the Dover weighed, the admiral's upper sail
was not visible from her tops, though the Warspite's hull had not yet
disappeared from her deck. She left the fleet, or the portions of it
that still remained at anchor, with her fore-course set, and hauled by
the wind, under double-reefed top-sails, a single reef in her main-sail,
and with her main-topgallant sail set over its proper sail. With this
reduced canvass, she started away on the track of her consorts, the
brine foaming under her bows, and with a heel that denoted the heavy
pressure that bore on her sails. By this time, the York was aweigh, the
tide had turned, and it became necessary to fill on the other tack in
order to clear the land to the eastward. This altered the formation, but
we will now revert to the events as they transpired on the shore, with a
view to relate them more in their regular order.
It is scarcely necessary to say that Bluewater must have remained on, or
about the cliffs several hours, in order to witness the departure of so
many of the vessels. Instead of returning to the Hall at the dinner
hour, agreeably to promise, he profited by the appearance of Wycherly,
who left the cottage with a flushed, agitated manner, just as he was
thinking of the necessity of sending a message to Sir Reginald, and
begged the young man to be the bearer of his excuses. He thought that
the change in the weather rendered it necessary for him to remain in
sight of the sea. Dutton overheard this message, and, after a private
conference with his wife, he ventured to invite his superior to appease
his appetite under his own humble roof. To this Bluewater cheerfully
assented; and when the summons came to the table, to his great joy he
found that his only companion was to be Mildred, who, like himself, for
some reason known only to her own bosom, had let the ordinary dining
hour pass without appearing at table, but whom her mother had now
directed to take some sustenance.
"The late events at the Hall have agitated the poor child, sir," said
Mrs. Dutton, in the way of apology, "and she has not tasted food since
morning. I have told her you would excuse the intrusion, and receive her
carving and attentions as an excuse for her company."
Bluewater looked at the pallid countenance of the girl, and never before
had he found the resemblance to Agnes Hedworth so strong, as that
moment. The last year or two of his own sweet friend's life had been far
from happy, and the languid look and tearful eyes of Mildred revived the
recollection of the dead with painful distinctness.
"Good God!" he murmured to himself; "that two such beings should exist
only to suffer! my good Mrs. Dutton, make no excuses; but believe me
when I say that you could not have found in England another that would
have proved as welcome as my present little messmate."
Mildred struggled for a smile; and she did succeed in looking extremely
grateful. Beyond this, however, it exceeded her powers to go. Mrs.
Dutton was gratified, and soon left the two to partake of their neat,
but simple meal, by themselves; household duties requiring her presence
elsewhere.
"Let me persuade you to take a glass of this really excellent port, my
child," said Bluewater. "If you had cruised as long as I have done, on
the coast of Portugal, you would know how to value a liquor as pure as
this. I don't know of an admiral that has as good!"
"It is probably _our_ last, sir," answered Mildred, shaking a tear from
each of her long dark lashes, by an involuntarily trembling motion, as
she spoke. "It was a present from dear, old, Sir Wycherly, who never
left my mother wholly unsupplied with such plain delicacies, as he
fancied poverty placed beyond our reach. The wine we can easily forget;
not so easily the donor."
Bluewater felt as if he could draw a cheque for one-half the fortune he
had devised to his companion; and, yet, by a caprice of feeling that is
not uncommon to persons of the liveliest susceptibility, he answered in
a way to smother his own emotion.
"There will not soon be another _old_ Sir Wycherly to make his
neighbours comfortable; but there is a _young_ one, who is not likely to
forget his uncle's good example. I hope you all here, rejoice at the
sudden rise in fortune, that has so unexpectedly been placed within the
reach of our favourite lieutenant?"
A look of anguish passed over Mildred's face, and her companion noted
it; though surprise and pity--not to say resentment--prevented his
betraying his discovery.
"We _endeavour_ to be glad, sir," answered Mildred, smiling in so
suffering a manner, as to awaken all her companion's sympathies; "but it
is not easy for us to rejoice at any thing which is gained by the loss
of our former valued friend."
"I am aware that a young follow, like the present Sir Wycherly, can be
no substitute for an old fellow like the last Sir Wycherly, my dear; but
as one is a sailor, and the other was only a landsman, my professional
prejudices may not consider the disparity as great as it may possibly
appear to be to your less partial judgment."
Bluewater thought the glance he received was imploring, and he instantly
regretted that he had taken such means to divert his companion's
sadness. Some consciousness of this regret probably passed through
Mildred's mind, for she rallied her spirits, and made a partially
successful effort to be a more agreeable companion.
"My father thinks, sir," she said, "that our late pleasant weather is
about to desert us, and that it is likely to blow heavily before
six-and-thirty hours are over."
"I am afraid Mr. Dutton will prove to be too accurate an almanac. The
weather has a breeding look, and I expect a dirty night. Good or bad, we
seamen must face it, and that, too, in the narrow seas, where gales of
wind are no gales of Araby."
"Ah, sir, it is a terrible life to lead! By living on this cliff, I have
learned to pity sailors."
"Perhaps, my child, you pity us when we are the most happy. Nine seamen
in ten prefer a respectable gale to a flat calm. There are moments when
the ocean is terrific; but, on the whole, it is capricious, rather than
malignant. The night that is before us promises to be just such a one as
Sir Gervaise Oakes delights in. He is never happier than when he hears a
gale howling through the cordage of his ship."
"I have heard him spoken of as a very daring and self-relying commander.
But _you_ cannot entertain such feelings, Admiral Bluewater; for to me
you seem better fitted for a fireside, well filled with friends and
relatives, than for the conflicts and hardships of the sea."
Mildred had no difficulty now in forcing a smile, for the sweet one she
bestowed on the veteran almost tempted him to rise and fold her in his
arms, as a parent would wrap a beloved daughter to his heart.
Discretion, however, prevented a betrayal of feelings that might have
been misinterpreted, and he answered in his original vein.
"I fear I am a wolf in sheep's clothing," he said; "while Oakes admits
the happiness he feels in seeing his ship ploughing through a raging
sea, in a dark night, he maintains that my rapture is sought in a
hurricane. I do not plead guilty to the accusation, but I will allow
there is a sort of fierce delight in participating, as it might be, in a
wild strife of the elements. To me, my very nature seems changed at such
moments, and I forget all that is mild and gentle. That comes of having
lived so much estranged from your sex, my dear; desolate bachelor, as I
am."
"Do you think sailors ought to marry?" asked Mildred, with a steadiness
that surprised herself; for, while she put the question, consciousness
brought the blood to her temples.
"I should be sorry to condemn a whole profession, and that one I so well
love, to the hopeless misery of single life. There are miseries peculiar
to the wedded lives of both soldiers and sailors; but are there not
miseries peculiar to those who never separate? I have heard seamen
say--men, too, who loved their wives and families--that they believed
the extreme pleasure of meetings after long separations, the delights of
hope, and the zest of excited feelings, have rendered their years of
active service more replete with agreeable sensations, than the stagnant
periods of peace. Never having been married myself, I can only speak on
report."
"Ah! this may be so with _men_; but--surely--surely--_women_ never can
feel thus!"
"I suppose, a sailor's daughter yourself, you know Jack's account of his
wife's domestic creed! 'A good fire, a clean hearth, the children abed,
and the husband at sea,' is supposed to be the climax of felicity."
"This may do for the sailor's jokes, Admiral Bluewater," answered
Mildred, smiling; "but it will hardly ease a breaking heart. I fear from
all I have heard this afternoon, and from the sudden sailing of the
ships, that a great battle is at hand?"
"And why should you, a British officer's daughter, dread that? Have you
so little faith in us, as to suppose a battle will necessarily bring
defeat! I have seen much of my own profession, Miss Dutton, and trust I
am in some small degree above the rhodomontade of the braggarts; but it
is _not_ usual for us to meet the enemy, and to give those on shore
reason to be ashamed of the English flag. It has never yet been my luck
to meet a Frenchman who did not manifest a manly desire to do his
country credit; and I have always felt that we must fight hard for him
before we could get him; nor has the result ever disappointed me. Still,
fortune, or skill, or _right_, is commonly of our side, and has given us
the advantage in the end."
"And to which, sir, do you ascribe a success at sea, so very uniform?"
"As a Protestant, I ought to say to our _religion_; but, this my own
knowledge of Protestant _vices_ rejects. Then to say _fortune_ would be
an exceeding self-abasement--one, that between us, is not needed; and I
believe I must impute it to skill. As plain seamen, I do believe we are
more expert than most of our neighbours; though I am far from being
positive we have any great advantage over them in tactics. If any, the
Dutch are our equals."
"Notwithstanding, you are quite certain of success. It must be a great
encouragement to enter into the fight with a strong confidence in
victory! I suppose--that is, it seems to me--it is a matter of course,
sir,--that our new Sir Wycherly will not be able to join in the battle,
this time?"
Mildred spoke timidly, and she endeavoured to seem unconcerned; but
Bluewater read her whole heart, and pitied the pain which she had
inflicted on herself, in asking the question. It struck him, too, that a
girl of his companion's delicacy and sensibility would not thus advert
to the young man's movements at all, if the latter had done aught justly
to awaken censure; and this conviction greatly relieved his mind as to
the effect of sudden elevation on the handsome lieutenant. As it was
necessary to answer, however, lest Mildred might detect his
consciousness of her feelings, not a moment was lost before making a
reply.
"It is not an easy matter to prevent a young, dashing sailor, like this
Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, from doing his part in a general engagement,
and that, too, of the character of the one to which we are looking
forward," he said. "Oakes has left the matter in my hands; I suppose I
shall have to grant the young man's request."
"He has then requested to be received in your ship?" asked Mildred, her
hand shaking as she used the spoon it held.
"That of course. No one who wears the uniform could or would do less. It
seems a ticklish moment for him to quit Wychecombe, too; where I fancy
he will have a battle of his own to fight ere long; but professional
feeling will overshadow all others, in young men. Among us seamen, it is
said to be even stronger than love."
Mildred made no answer; but her pale cheek and quivering lips, evidences
of feeling that her artlessness did not enable her to conceal, caused
Bluewater again to regret the remark. With a view to restore the poor
girl to her self-command, he changed the subject of conversation, which
did not again advert to Wycherly. The remainder of the meal was
consequently eaten in peace, the admiral manifesting to the last,
however, the sudden and generous interest he had taken in the character
and welfare of his companion. When they rose from table, Mildred joined
her mother, and Bluewater walked out upon the cliffs again.
It was now evening, and the waste of water that lay stretched before the
eye, though the softness of summer was shed upon it, had the wild and
dreary aspect that the winds and waves lend to a view, as the light of
day is about to abandon the ocean to the gloom of night. All this had no
effect on Bluewater, however, who knew that two-decked ships, strongly
manned, with their heavy canvass reduced, would make light work of
worrying through hours of darkness that menaced no more than these.
Still the wind had freshened, and when he stood on the verge of the
cliff sustained by the breeze, which pressed him back from the
precipice, rendering his head more steady, and his footing sure, the
Elizabeth was casting, under close-reefed top-sails, and two reefs in her
courses, with a heavy stay-sail or two, to ease her helm. He saw that the
ponderous machine would stagger under even this short canvass, and that
her captain had made his dispositions for a windy night. The lights that
the Dover and the York carried in their tops were just beginning to be
visible in the gathering gloom, the last about a league and a half down
channel, the ship standing in that direction to get to windward, and the
former, more to the southward, the vessel having already tacked to
follow the admiral. A chain of lights connected the whole of the long
line, and placed the means of communication in the power of the
captains. At this moment, the Plantagenet was full fifty miles at sea,
ploughing through a heavy south-west swell, which the wind was driving
into the chops of the channel, from the direction of the Bay of Biscay,
and the broad Atlantic.
Bluewater buttoned his coat, and he felt his frame invigorated by a gale
that came over his person, loaded by the peculiar flavour of the sea.
But two of the heavy ships remained at their anchors, the Dublin and the
Cæsar; and his experienced eye could see that Stowel had every thing on
board the latter ready to trip and be off, as soon as he, himself,
should give the order. At this moment the midshipman, who had been
absent for hours, returned, and stood again at his side.
"Our turn will soon come, sir," said the gallant boy, "and, for one, I
shall not be sorry to be in motion. Those chaps on board the Plantagenet
will swagger like so many Dons, if they should happen to get a broadside
at Monsieur de Vervillin, while we are lying here, under the shore, like
a gentleman's yacht hauled into a bay, that the ladies might eat without
disturbing their stomachs."
"Little fear of that, Geoffrey. The Active is too light of foot,
especially in the weather we have had, to suffer heavy ships to be so
close on her heels. She must have had some fifteen or twenty miles the
start, and the French have been compelled to double Cape la Hogue and
Alderney, before they could even look this way. If coming down channel
at all, they are fully fifty miles to the eastward; and should our van
stretch far enough by morning to head them off, it will bring us
handsomely to windward. Sir Gervaise never set a better trap, than he
has done this very day. The Elizabeth has her hands full, boy, and the
wind seems to be getting scant for her. If it knock her off much more,
it will bring the flood on her weather-bow, and compel her to tack. This
will throw the rear of our line into confusion!"
"What should we do, sir, in such a case? It would never answer to leave
poor Sir Jarvy out there, by himself!"
"We would try not to do _that_!" returned Bluewater, smiling at the
affectionate solicitude of the lad, a solicitude that caused him
slightly to forget his habitual respect for the commander-in-chief, and
to adopt the _sobriquet_ of the fleet. "In such a case, it would become
my duty to collect as many ships as I could, and to make the best of our
way towards the place where we might hope to fall in with the others, in
the morning. There is little danger of losing each other, for any length
of time, in these narrow waters, and I have few apprehensions of the
French being far enough west, to fall in with our leading vessels before
morning. If they _should_, indeed, Geoffrey--"
"Ay, sir, if they _should_, I know well enough what would come to pass!"
"What, boy?--On the supposition that Monsieur de Vervillin _did_ meet
with Sir Gervaise by day-break, what, in your experienced eyes, seem
most likely to be the consequences?"
"Why, sir, Sir Jarvy, would go at 'em, like a dolphin at a flying-fish;
and if he _should_ really happen to catch one or two of 'em, there'll be
no sailing in company with the Plantagenet's, for us Cæsar's!--When we
had the last 'bout with Monsieur de Gravelin, they were as saucy as
peacocks, because we didn't close until their fore-yard and
mizzen-top-gallant-mast were gone, although the shift of wind brought us
dead to leeward, and, after all, we had eleven men the most hurt in the
fight. You don't know them Plantagenet's, sir; for they never _dare_ say
any thing before _you_!"
"Not to the discredit of my young Cæsars, I'll answer for it. Yet,
you'll remember Sir Gervaise gave us full credit, in his despatches."
"Yes, sir, all very true. Sir Gervaise knows better; and then _he_
understands what the Cæsar _is_; and what she _can_ do, and _has_ done.
But it's a very different matter with his youngsters, who fancy because
they carry a red flag at the fore, they are so many Blakes and Howards,
themselves. There's Jack Oldcastle, now; he's always talking of our
reefers as if there was no sea-blood in our veins, and that just because
his own father happened to be a captain--a _commodore_, he says, because
he happened once to have three frigates under his orders."
"Well, that would make a commodore, for the time being. But, surely he
does not claim privilege for the Oldcastle blood, over that of the
Clevelands!"
"No, sir, it isn't that sort of thing, at all," returned the fine boy,
blushing a little, in spite of his contempt for any such womanly
weakness; "you know we never talk of that nonsense in our squadron. With
us it's all service, and that sort of thing. Jack Oldcastle says the
Clevelands are all civilians, as he calls 'em; or _soldiers_, which
isn't much better, as you know, sir. Now, I tell him that there is an
old picture of one of 'em, with an anchor-button, and that was long
before Queen Anne's time--Queen Elizabeth's, perhaps,--and then you
know, sir, I fetch him up with a yarn about the Hedworths; for I am just
as much Hedworth as Cleveland."
"And what does the impudent dog say to that, Geoffrey?"
"Why, sir, he says the name should be spelt Head_work_, and that they
were all _lawyers_. But I gave him as good as he sent for that saucy
speech, I'm certain!"
"And what did you give him, in return for such a compliment? Did you
tell him the Oldcastles were just so much stone, and wood, and old iron;
and that, too, in a tumbledown condition?"
"No, sir, not I," answered the boy, laughing; "I didn't think of any
answer half so clever; and so I just gave him a dig in the nose, and
that, laid on with right good will."
"And how did he receive that argument? Was it conclusive;--or did the
debate continue?"
"Oh, of course, sir, we fought it out. 'Twas on board the Dover, and the
first lieutenant saw fair play. Jack carried too many guns for me, sir,
for he's more than a year older; but I hulled him so often that he owned
it was harder work than being mast-headed. After that the Dover's chaps
took my part, and they said the Hedworths had no Head_work_ at all, but
they were regular sailors; admirals, and captains, and youngsters, you
know, sir, like all the rest of us. I told 'em my grandfather Hedworth
was an admiral, and a good one, too."
"In that you made a small mistake. Your mother's father was only a
_general_; but _his_ father was a full admiral of the red,--for he lived
before that grade was abolished--and as good an officer as ever trod a
plank. He was my mother's brother, and both Sir Gervaise and myself
served long under his orders. He was a sailor of whom you well might
boast."
"I don't think any of the Plantagenets will chase in that quarter again,
sir; for we've had an overhauling among our chaps, and we find we can
muster four admirals, two commodores, and thirteen captains in our two
messes; that is, counting all sorts of relatives, you know, sir."
"Well, my dear boy, I hope you may live to reckon all that and more too,
in your own persons, at some future day. Yonder is Sir Reginald
Wychecombe, coming this way, to my surprise; perhaps he wishes to see me
alone. Go down to the landing and ascertain if my barge is ashore, and
let me know it, as soon as is convenient. Remember, Geoffrey, you will
go off with me; and hunt up Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, who will lose his
passage, unless ready the instant he is wanted."
The boy touched his cap, and went bounding down the hill to execute the
order.