"Too well, signor," he replied. "It has been my lot to be chased by her
often, and many an anxious moment has she caused me. She has the name
of being the fastest sailer inside the Gut, and she is the terror of
every honest smuggler round the coast here."
"Ho, ho!" said I. "So that is how the land lies, is it, master
Giaccomo? You have been a bit of a smuggler in your time, eh?"
"Yes," he frankly returned, "and not so very long ago either. And I
should have been taken to a certainty, had not a shot from one of your
cruisers turned yonder inquisitive gentleman back."
"Let us hope we may meet with a similar slice of luck this time," said
I. "Do you think we stand any chance of getting away from her?"
"Everything depends on the weather," was the reply. "In light winds,
such as this, I have never seen anything to approach this cutter for
speed; but should it come on to blow, the `Vigilant' will run us under
water."
This was a singularly agreeable piece of information to receive just at
that moment, for the sky had gradually become flecked with fast-flying
patches of scud, and a dark threatening bank of cloud was working up to
windward. So far, however, the breeze remained light, and while we were
gliding through the water at the rate of something like five knots, with
scarcely a ripple under our bows to indicate the fact, the guarda-costa
appeared to have little beyond bare steerage-way.
At first I was sanguine enough to hope that, seeing how we slipped away
from her, the lateener would 'bout ship, and return to her moorings; but
nothing of the kind: she held on like grim death, her skipper, no doubt,
being seaman enough to read in the increasingly-threatening aspect of
the heavens a promise that his turn should come by-and-by.
In the meantime the wind grew rapidly lighter until it became
"breathless" calm; and there we both lay, heaving sluggishly on the long
swell, our sails flapping idly from side to side, and our bows boxing
the compass.
The cloud-bank meanwhile had been steadily rising, and at length it
completely veiled the sky, obscuring first the stars, and finally the
moon, and enveloping the whole face of nature in a mantle of inky
blackness. So intense was this darkness that we lost sight of the
guarda-costa, the land, and in fact everything save the two or three
riding-lights which the more prudent of the skippers had chosen to
display on board their craft in the roadstead.
A breathless hush prevailed, broken only by the loud creak of our boom
and the flap of the sails. Giaccomo and his shipmate, or prisoner--
whichever the reader likes--were somewhere forward, probably sitting
down; but it was impossible to see them in the impenetrable darkness.
I called Giaccomo aft, and his voice, when he spoke in reply, sounded
strange, weird, and unnatural. I considered the aspect of the sky
portentous in the extreme, but I wished to have his opinion, as that of
a man accustomed to the weather of that region, and I asked him what he
thought of it.
"We shall have it down upon us very heavily before long," he replied;
"but I do not think it will last above three or four hours."
"Then we had better bear a hand and shorten sail," said I. "You take in
the gaff-topsail, and bowse down a double reef in the mainsail, and I
will in foresail and shift the jib. I suppose there is a storm-jib
somewhere on board?"
"Down in the locker, forward," said he. "Be careful to close the hatch
securely when you come up, signor, or we shall be swamped in less than
ten minutes; she will bury herself in the breeze that we are going to
have."
We all three worked like Trojans, and in a remarkably short space of
time had the "Mouette"--as I found the cutter was named--under double-
reefed mainsail and storm-jib, the latter well in along the bowsprit,
with topmast lowered as far as it would come, the fore-hatch and cabin
skylight battened down, and everything made snug and ready for a regular
stand-up fight with the elements.
While we were busy with these preparations, I admonished Giaccomo to
keep a smart lookout, and I was careful also to do the same myself, in
case the guarda-costa should endeavour to cut matters short by sending
away a boat after us; but the man assured me that the skipper of the
craft knew too well what he was about to risk the loss of a boat's crew
by sending them away under such threatening conditions of weather.
Smart as we had been in making our preparations, we were only barely in
time. We had just comfortably completed our work, and I had established
myself at the tiller, with Giaccomo at the mainsheet, and Francois--as
the French lad called himself--at the jib-sheet, when there came a
terrific flash of lightning, green and baleful, illumining for a single
instant the entire scene, and revealing our pertinacious friend, the
"Vigilant," in her old berth astern, with her long tapering yards
lowered to the deck, and two stumpy lugs and a pocket-handkerchief of a
jib hoisted in their place. Then, as the opaque darkness closed down
upon us again, there followed the long deep reverberating roll of the
thunder. Another vivid flash quickly succeeded, the thunder this time
being much louder and nearer; and then, after a pause of about a minute,
there came a perfect _blast_ of lightning, so intensely bright that the
whole atmosphere appeared for one brief moment to be literally on fire.
Simultaneously with the flash came the awful deafening crackling crash
of the thunder, the terrific detonations of which completely stunned and
unnerved me while they lasted, so overpowering were they in comparison
with anything of the kind which I had before heard. We had scarcely
time to recover our hearing before we became conscious of a hissing
roaring sound in the atmosphere, momentarily increasing in intensity,
and, looking to windward, there appeared in startling relief against the
sable background a long line of luminous milky foam rushing down toward
us from the horizon. In an incredibly short time the squall was upon
us. On it came, like a howling fiend, over the tortured surface of the
ocean, causing it to hiss and seethe like the contents of a boiling
cauldron, and striking the cutter with such resistless fury that she
went over helplessly before it, burying her lee-rail so deeply in the
brine that her sails lay prostrate upon the surface of the water.
Each of us instinctively shouted to the others to "hold on," grasping at
the same moment whatever came nearest. I managed somehow to clamber up
the deck, as the cutter went over, and, passing out over the low
bulwarks, established myself on the upturned side of the little craft.
Giaccomo had done the same, while Francois was standing on the side of
the cabin-companion, and clinging convulsively with both hands to the
weather-rail.
Crawling up to the side of the Corsican, I placed my mouth to his ear
and shouted,--
"Do you think you can cut away the mast?"
"No! no! no!" he earnestly returned. "See, signor, her head is paying-
off, and she will come up again in a minute or two; she _cannot_ turn
over altogether, her ballast is too well secured for that, and she will
not fill even if she remains thus for half an hour yet; no water can get
below except through the companion, and the doors fit so well that very
little will get down even through them. See there, she is coming up
again already."
It was even so. While the man was speaking, the cutter's bows had been
rapidly paying-off, until we headed, as nearly as we could guess,
straight for the shore; when, the pressure of the wind being no longer
upon her broadside, the heavy ballast had gradually dragged the yacht
into an upright position, and we had, somewhat precipitately, to
scramble inboard again.
The moment that the yacht recovered herself, the wind of course caught
her sails, and away we at once started to leeward with the speed of a
hunted stag. This, however, would never do; the shore was straight
ahead, and, at the rate at which we were travelling, twenty minutes
would have seen us dashed into matchwood upon the rocks.
Very cautiously, therefore, we brought her upon a wind, and though, when
we again got broadside-to, she threatened to go over once more with us,
we managed by careful manipulation of the sheets to avoid such a
catastrophe; and when we had got her once fairly jammed close upon a
wind, some former experience of mine in cutter sailing enabled me to
keep her right side uppermost. But it was perilous work for a good hour
after the squall struck us. I have occasionally seen in my later days
some bold and even reckless match-sailing, but I have never yet seen a
craft so desperately overdriven as was, perforce, the little "Mouette"
on that memorable night. While the first strength of the gale lasted we
were literally under water the whole time, the sea boiling and foaming
in over our bows, and sweeping away aft and out over the taffrail in a
continuous flood.
I believe we should have sailed faster, and we should assuredly have
made much better weather of it, had we been able to get a close reef
down in the mainsail; but under the circumstances this was impossible,
since, being so short-handed, it would have delayed us long enough to
allow the "Vigilant" to get alongside us before we had got through with
the work. There was, therefore, nothing for it, but to keep on as we
were, the cutter heeling over to an angle of quite 50 deg., so that we were
really standing upon the inside of the lee bulwark, with our backs
resting against the steeply-inclined deck, up above our knees in the
sea, beneath which the little craft's lee-rail was deeply buried; while,
owing to our great speed, we rushed _through_ instead of riding over the
sea which was rapidly getting up, so that, when an unusually heavy
"comber" met us, we were literally _buried_ for the moment, while it
swept over us.
Luckily the first mad fury of the blast lasted only for two or three
minutes, or our mast could never have resisted the tremendous strain
upon it; as it was, stout though the spar--absurdly disproportionate to
the size of the craft, I then considered it--it swayed and bent like a
fishing-rod, causing the lee-rigging to blow out quite in bights, while
that to windward was strained as taut as harp-strings, the resemblance
to which was increased by the weird sound of the wind as it shrieked
through it.
Scarcely had the tempest burst upon us before the veil of cloud which
had obscured the heavens was rent to shreds by its fury, the sky was
cleared as if by magic, the moon and stars reappeared--the former low
down upon the horizon,--and we had an uninterrupted view of the wild
scene around us.
We were heading straight out from the land, and sailing so close to the
wind that we were taking the seas nearly stem-on; and I frankly confess
that my heart was, metaphorically speaking, in my mouth for the greatest
part of that night, while watching the little craft rush bodily into the
steep slope of wave after wave, and felt her quiver like a frightened
thing as they swept hissing and seething over our heads. My admiration
for the skill of her builder was boundless; for, had I not witnessed the
cutter's achievements, I could never have credited the power of wood and
iron to successfully resist such a terrific strain and battering as she
received.
When the first wild struggle for existence was over, and we had fairly
settled down to our work in that mad life-or-death race, we had time to
look round and see how our opponent had come out of the struggle. We
had not far to look. There she was, about three miles to leeward, and
well on our quarter, dashing gallantly on; now rushing upward upon the
crest of a wave, amid a deluge of spray, and lifting her fore-foot out
of the water as though about to leave the element altogether and take
flight into the air, like a startled sea-bird; and anon plunging down
into the trough until only a small portion of the heads of her sails was
visible. She was evidently making much better weather of it than we
were; but on the other hand half-an-hour's patient observation revealed
to us the comforting fact that, notwithstanding her vaunted speed, we
were both head-reaching and weathering upon her.
Satisfied at length that this was actually the case, I asked Giaccomo
what he now thought of our chances of escape.
"We shall get away from her," he replied exultingly. "I have no longer
any fear of _her_; what I now dread is the possibility of the cutter
foundering from under us. There must be a considerable amount of water
making its way into her interior, with the sea sweeping over us thus
incessantly; indeed, I am convinced that we are sensibly deeper in the
water than we were."
"Do you think you could manage to get the pump under way?" I asked.
"I would _try_," he replied; "but the well is on the larboard side,
close by my feet, and deep under water."
"Then," said I, "we must endeavour to get her round upon the other tack.
We will watch for a `smooth,' and directly it comes, you and Francois
must round-in upon the mainsheet. Are you both ready?"
They replied in the affirmative, and after watching in vain for some
five minutes, a terrific sea burst over us, burying the craft--as it
seemed to me--nearly half-way up her mast, and beyond it the water was
comparatively smooth.
"In with it!" I gasped, as we came out on the other side of this liquid
hill. They gathered in the sheet as though their lives depended on it,
and at the same moment I eased off the weather tiller-rope, and gave the
craft her head. She surged up into the wind, her canvas flapping so
furiously that it threatened to shake the mast out of her; her lee-
gunwale appeared above the surface, and placing my feet against the
tiller I pressed it gradually over, helping her round while stopping her
way as little as possible; a sea rushed up and struck her on the port-
bow, sending her head well off on the other tack, the jib-sheet was
promptly hauled over, the mainsail filled, and as we hurriedly scrambled
over to the other side of the deck and secured ourselves anew with
lashings round our waists, the "Mouette" plunged forward on the larboard
tack, looking well up to windward and heading about due north.
The fixing and rigging of the pump was a work of considerable difficulty
and danger, but it was eventually done; and then Giaccomo and Francois,
placing themselves one on each side, set resolutely to work, with the
determination of not leaving off as long as a drop of water would flow
from the spout.
The clear stream which gushed out as soon as the brake was set going
showed us unmistakably that we had not begun a moment too soon, and had
we still entertained any doubt upon this point, it would have been
dispelled by the length of time it took to clear the little craft of
water. It was broad daylight when at length Giaccomo panted
triumphantly,--
"There she sucks!"
Just before sun-rise we noticed the first indications of a break in the
gale, and by eight o'clock it had so far moderated that our lee-rail was
just awash, and instead of diving through the seas, as we had been ever
since the gale struck us, the cutter managed to rise over everything but
the heaviest. It was still too wet forward to permit of taking off the
forecastle-hatch, but communication between cabin and forecastle could
be effected by means of a sliding door in the bulkhead; so Francois was
sent below with instructions to prepare a thorough good breakfast, with
plenty of hot coffee--which, let me say, I have found infinitely more
comforting and refreshing than spirits, after long exposure to wet or
cold, or both combined.
After the setting of the moon we had lost sight of the guarda-costa
until dawn once more betrayed her whereabouts. When first seen she was
hull-down and about three points on our lee quarter, still under her two
lugs and jib. So far, this was satisfactory; we had walked fairly away
from her in her own weather, and Giaccomo was in ecstasies.
"Ah!" he chuckled, "Monsieur Leroux would have almost forgiven us for
running away with his `Mouette,' had he been here to see what a shameful
beating she has given the `Vigilant.' The story is sure to leak out
through some of the lateener's people, and poor old Lieutenant Durand,
who commands her, will not dare to show himself ashore at Ajaccio, he
will be so laughed at."
But the guarda-costa's people had no idea of tamely accepting their
defeat as final. No sooner was it light enough for them to fairly make
us out, than they shifted their sails, substituting single-reefed
lateens for the lugs, and taking in their storm-jib out of the way.
Their increased spread of canvas soon told a tale, for before half an
hour had passed it became evident that they were gaining upon us, going
faster through the water, that is; but she did not appear to weather on
us much, if at all. The fact that the "Vigilant" was overhauling us,
however, gave me very little uneasiness, for I calculated that, as we
were both then sailing, it would take her quite three hours to get
within gunshot of us, and probably another half-hour before there would
be much probability of her hitting us, and by that time I expected we
should be within four hours' sail of San Fiorenzo, where I fully
expected to find the old "Juno," and probably a few more of our own
ships; and I thought it very doubtful whether the Frenchmen would keep
up the chase so far as that, for fear of running into a trap and being
themselves caught.
We therefore went to breakfast with tolerably easy minds, to say nothing
of good appetites, and thoroughly enjoyed the meal,--a most sumptuous
one, considering the place and the circumstances of its preparation,--
Giaccomo condescending so far to relax the sternness of his demeanour to
Francois as to pat that individual approvingly on the shoulder, and to
assure him that such cookery went far to atone for his extraordinary
indiscretion of the night before.
Francesca sat down to breakfast with us, having quite unexpectedly made
her appearance on deck, fresh, blooming, and cheerful, about half an
hour before. To my unbounded surprise, she assured me that she had
passed a very tolerable night, having indeed been sound asleep for the
greater portion of the time. She had been somewhat alarmed when the
cutter was thrown upon her beam-ends, but had not been in the least
incommoded by the accident, nor indeed aware of its full extent, the cot
upon which she was lying being a very ingenious affair, so contrived
that it always maintained a perfectly horizontal position, no matter how
much the cutter rolled and pitched, nor how greatly she heeled over.
This was very gratifying news to me, for I fully expected to see her
appear in the morning excessively frightened, and possibly very
seriously bruised by the violent motion of the little craft in which she
had passed so adventurous a night.
By the time that we had all breakfasted the wind had so far moderated
that it became necessary to make sail upon the cutter; the "Vigilant"
having crept up well abeam of us, though still hull-down and apparently
close in with the land. We accordingly shook both reefs out of the
mainsail, and got the foresail and working-jib set, with which canvas we
rushed along in true racing style, our lee-rail well buried, and the
craft taking just enough weather-helm to allow of her being steered to a
hair's-breadth. Her performance perfectly enchanted me; I had never
seen anything like it before, and to my unaccustomed eyes she seemed
fairly to fly. Even Giaccomo and Francois, both of whom had repeatedly
sailed in her, asserted that they had never seen her do so well before.
When we again had time to take a glance to leeward at the "Vigilant," we
discovered that well-named craft bowling along under whole canvas, and
evidently trying her hardest to head-reach upon us. For the first half-
hour we endeavoured to flatter ourselves that we were still holding our
own, but at the end of that time such self-deception was no longer
possible; the breeze suited us admirably, but there was still too much
sea for the little "Mouette," and the "Vigilant's" superior power at
length began to tell. Had they carried sail as recklessly through the
night as we had, there can be no doubt they would have been alongside of
us by daylight. By this time, too, we were abreast of Calvi, and were
able to bear away with a beam wind for Acciajola Point, round which, and
at the bottom of the bay, lay San Fiorenzo, our destination. Our
altered course gave our opponent a further advantage by bringing her a
couple of points before our beam, and we had the mortification of seeing
that the craft was edging out to intercept us, and would, to a moral
certainty, cut us off before we could reach the headland.
Still, I resolved to stand on, and trust to the chapter of accidents for
our ultimate escape. If the change in our course had given the
"Vigilant" one important advantage, it had given us another, to which I
attached quite as much weight; it had brought the wind and sea abeam,
and permitted us to ease up our sheets, while the sea no longer retarded
us: it also permitted us to set a little extra canvas, and we
accordingly lost no time in getting our topmast on end and setting the
gaff-topsail, after which we could do nothing but sit still and
anxiously watch the result.
Meanwhile the two vessels were rapidly converging upon a point distant
about a mile from Cape Acciajola. The wind continued to drop, the sea
going down at the same time; and as the morning advanced and the weather
became lighter, we appeared to be once more getting rather the advantage
of our pertinacious antagonist. So completely was our attention engaged
by the "Vigilant," that it was not until that craft had hoisted her
colours that we became aware of the fact that a new actor had appeared
upon the scene, and was within seven miles of us. This was a brig,
which when we first caught sight of her was running in for the land from
the W.S.W., with every stitch of canvas set that would draw, including
lower, topmast, and topgallant studding-sails on her port side. She lay
about three points on our weather quarter, and was steering for the Gulf
of San Fiorenzo.
The appearance of this stranger naturally added very greatly to my
anxiety. I could not in the least make up my mind as to her
nationality, for she hoisted no colours in response to the "Vigilant's"
display of her ensign, and though she struck me as being thoroughly
French, both in build and rig, I could not understand why she should be
running for San Fiorenzo, if our fleet was there; while if it was not,
it seemed pretty certain that I had run into what old Rawlings, the
sailing-master, was wont to designate "the centre of a hobble," in other
words--a decided predicament. How to act, under the circumstances, I
knew not; I was thoroughly embarrassed.
Away to leeward was the "Vigilant," in such a position that if we bore
up we should be simply running straight into her clutches; up there to
windward was this mysterious brig, from which there was no possibility
of escape if we hauled our wind, while if we kept straight on we were
still almost certain to fall into her hands, assuming that we were lucky
enough to escape the "Vigilant." Of course there was just a bare
possibility of her being English, but if so her appearance strangely
belied her.
It seemed to me that the least imprudent thing to do would be to keep
straight on as we were going, and this I accordingly did. I still felt
very anxious to know for certain who and what this brig really was, and
at last I determined to hoist the English flag over the French at our
gaff-end, hoping that this signal would evoke some response; but as far
as the brig was concerned it was entirely without effect.
Not so, however, with regard to the "Vigilant;" the sight appeared to
greatly irritate her worthy skipper, for he immediately hauled his wind,
and very soon afterwards tried the effect of his long brass nine upon
us. The shot fell short some sixty or seventy fathoms, but it was well
aimed, and pretty conclusively demonstrated that Monsieur Durand was
growing angry. Finding that we were as yet out of range, the lateener
once more kept away upon her former course, evidently recognising the
possibility that, if she did not, we might still slip past her.
Another quarter of an hour brought us abreast of the Cape, and in about
ten minutes more we had opened the town of San Fiorenzo. Well out in
Mortella Bay a large fleet of ships lay at anchor, while much nearer the
shore a 74-gun ship and a frigate were visible, also apparently at
anchor, and briskly engaging a battery of some sort, which appeared to
be built on a projecting point of land. At the same time the roar of
the distant cannonade, which had been shut off from us by the
intervening high land, was borne distinctly to our ears. Meanwhile the
inscrutable brig had steadily pursued her course, without appearing to
take the slightest notice of the little drama which was being enacted
ahead of her, and now came foaming up upon our weather quarter, steering
so as to shave close past our taffrail.
I had by this time lost all doubt as to her nationality, though she
still kept her bunting well out of sight; she was unmistakably French
all over, from keel to truck. And though she was an enemy I could not
help admiring the beautiful order and neatness which characterised her
appearance: two qualities which were rarely to be witnessed on board
French ships at that period. I was rather surprised that she had not
pitched a shot across our fore-foot before this, as a delicate
intimation that the time had arrived for us to heave-to; but as she had
not, I began to entertain a faint glimmer of hope that she was engaged
upon some special service of such importance that she could not spare
time to interfere with us.
It was evident that she had no intention of rounding-to, for there still
stood her studding-sails without a sign of any preparation for taking
them in. Our attention was now of course, for the moment, given
exclusively to her; our curiosity being strongly roused as to her
intentions. In another moment she swept magnificently across our stern,
so closely that a bold leap would have carried a man from her weather
cat-head down upon our deck; and as she did so we became aware of sundry
tanned and bearded faces, some of which seemed familiar to me, peering
curiously down upon us through her open half-ports. At the same moment
a dapper young fellow in the uniform of a British midshipman sprang into
the main-rigging, speaking-trumpet in hand, and hailed us somewhat in
the following fashion,--
"Cutter ahoy! who are you, and whither bound? and what is that
piratical-looking craft down to leeward? If he is interfering with you,
you had better bear up and follow in my wake; I'll take care that--
hilloa! if that isn't Chester may I never--ahoy! Chester, old boy!
don't you know _me_?--Bob Summers, you know. Up helm, old fellow; the
`Juno' is in there, and--"
The rest was unintelligible, the brig being by this time too far away to
allow of further conversation. Of course I bore up at once, for the
brig being in English hands, I had no further occasion for anxiety with
regard to the "Vigilant." That craft, true to her name, had evidently
been on the watch to see what would come of the meeting which had just
taken place, and had already arrived at the conclusion that what had
passed boded her no good, for the moment we bore up, she did the same,
wearing short round upon her heel, and shaping a course, as nearly as we
could judge, for Calvi. Bob, however, who was evidently burning to
distinguish himself, seemed to regard this as a favourable opportunity
for so doing, and promptly squared away, steering a course which would
enable him to intercept the guarda-costa; we following steadily in his
wake to witness the fun. Almost immediately afterwards we heard the
shrill notes of the bo'sun's whistle, followed by the hoarse bellowing
sound in which that functionary is wont to transmit the commanding
officer's orders to the ship's company. And occasionally we were
gratified with the sight of Mr Bob Summers squinting curiously at us
through his telescope, out of one of the stern-ports.
The moment that the brig was fairly within range of the "Vigilant," Bob
bowled a 9-pound shot across that craft's fore-foot, as an invitation to
her to heave-to. Monsieur Durand, however, seemed in no humour for
accepting any such invitation just then, for he immediately returned a
decided negative from his long brass 9-pounder, sending the shot very
cleverly through both Bob's topsails, and narrowly missing the mainmast-
head. I expected to see Master Bob round-to and deliver his whole
broadside in retaliation--it would have been quite like him to do so;
instead of this, however, he maintained a grim silence, notwithstanding
that Monsieur Durand continued his efforts to cripple the brig. At
length, however, Bob got within short pistol-shot of his adversary, and
then in came his studding-sails, all together, down went his helm, and
_crash_! went his broadside of four 9-pounders into the devoted
Frenchman, bringing his sails and his flag down by the run, together.
As the brig rounded-to, her main-topsail was thrown aback, bringing her
to a standstill directly to windward of the "Vigilant," and within easy
hailing distance. Then Master Bob hove into view in the main-rigging
once more, still with the precious speaking-trumpet in his hand, and the
guarda-costa was sternly ordered to surrender--as I afterwards learned,
we being at the moment rather too far astern to hear what passed,--which
she forthwith did. The cutter was thereupon lowered and manned, and a
prize crew went on board to take possession, little Summers himself also
going with the party.
In the meantime we in the "Mouette" joined company, heaving-to close
under the brig's quarter, and making out for the first time the word
"Requin" (Shark), which was painted on her stern in small red letters.
After the lapse of perhaps a quarter of an hour the brig's cutter shoved
off from the side of the "Vigilant," and in another minute Bob and I
were shaking hands as vigorously as though we had not seen each other
for years. As soon as he had done with me, the young rascal turned to
Francesca, whereupon I introduced him in due form in French. Francesca
at once frankly gave him her hand, and made a pretty little speech as to
the happiness which it afforded her to make the acquaintance of any
friend of her "cher Ralph," etcetera, etcetera.
Master Bob, whose knowledge of French was of the slenderest and most
flimsy description, was in no wise disconcerted by being addressed in
what was to him practically an unknown tongue. He bowed with all the
elegance and grace he could muster, smiling meanwhile as suavely as he
knew how, and finally responding somewhat in this style,--
"_Je suis_ most happy _a avez le plaisir a-makez votre_ acquaintance,
Mile. Paoli. _J'ai_ already _l'honneur de_ being partially acquainted
with _votre oncle_, General di Paoli, and a fine fellow he is. And--my
eye! won't he be surprised to see you? I only wish you could stay on
board _le_ `Juno,' or, better still, take up your quarters aboard the
brig, the skipper giving her of course to Chester and me with a roving
commission. That _would_ be jolly; but there--what's the use of
thinking of such a thing? Of course it is ever so much too good to be
true. By the way, Chester,"--turning to me--"have you dined yet?
Neither have I. Now suppose we all go aboard the brig then; I'll leave
a couple of hands to help your crew here, and we can then make sail in
company. I say, we shall present quite an imposing appearance as we
bring-up in the roadstead. I expect the skipper will send for us on the
quarter-deck, and thank us before all hands for our gallantry and
important services."
Bob jumped into the boat alongside, as he concluded; I followed, and
then Francesca stepped daintily down into the dancing craft, where the
gallant Bob established her snugly in the stern-sheets, close alongside
himself. He then seized the yoke-lines, gave the order to "shove off
and give way" in his most authoritative manner, and in ten minutes more
we were all three comfortably established in the cosy little cabin of
the brig, with a very tolerable dinner on the table before us.