The prize was called the _Fleche_, belonging to Dominique. Mr
Collinson having to select a crew, among others took Jack Windy,
Grimshaw, and Bill, and Tommy Rebow to attend in the cabin; having,
besides, a mate and a midshipman to act as his officers. The corvette
could ill spare so many men, but the prize was a valuable one, and it
was important to take her into Port Royal in safety.
On reaching the brig, it was found that the schooner had taken a
considerable amount of property from her, though prevented by the
appearance of the corvette from removing much of her cargo. The captain
of the brig was very grateful for his release, and went rejoicing on his
voyage, hoping not to fall in with a similar customer. The _Fleche_,
under her new officers and crew, stood away to the westward, hoping,
after rounding Cape Saint Antonio, to have a quick run to Jamaica, while
the corvette continued her voyage through the Bahama sea, towards Saint
Domingo.
For some time the schooner enjoyed fine weather, and everybody on board
was happy and contented, imitating the temper of the lieutenant, who was
especially so.
Bill, under Jack Windy's instruction, perfected himself in his hornpipe,
and Jack declared, and even old Grim growled out an assent, that there
were not many lads of his age who could beat him. The wind was very
light, so that, after having parted from the corvette some four or five
days, they had made but little way. Bill, of course, had a very slight
idea all the time where they were, for charts and maps were not common
between-decks. They had been on board the schooner some ten days or
more, when the weather began to cloud over, and just the same appearance
came on which Bill remembered before the hurricane they had met with on
their passage from England.
"What do you think of it?" he asked of old Grim.
"Why, if Mr Collinson don't look out bright, we shall have the masts
out of the ship, that's all," answered Grim.
Mr Collinson was, however, looking out bright, and soon summoned on
deck by the mate who had charge, he gave orders to furl all sail, except
a close-reefed fore-topsail. There was not a breath of wind. The sea
was like a looking-glass, the heat was intense.
"No doubt it's old `Harry Cane,' come to pay us a visit, as he's not got
the change out of us yet," growled old Grim.
The lieutenant and his two young officers walked the deck, looking
somewhat anxiously.
"There are some ugly rocks and banks clustering pretty thickly about
here," he observed to one of them, "and if we have to run on in the
dark, Providence alone can take us clear of them."
"I would rather trust to Providence than to our own wisdom or skill,"
thought Bill. "He who took care of us before will take care of us now."
Some time passed, and still the calm continued. Even Mr Collinson
began to think that, after all, the hurricane was not coming.
"Don't let him fancy any such thing," observed old Grim. "Depend upon
it, if `Harry Cane' has made up his mind to come aboard us, come he
will; but whether or no he will take the masts out of us, or send us to
the bottom, is another thing."
The sky still remained overcast, and the heat increased. The men were
piped to dinner, and many a joke was cut at the mess-tables about the
expected hurricane.
"Oh! It's only a make-believe, after all," observed Jack Windy, as he
tossed off his grog, dinner being over.
The men had not left their seats, when, on a sudden, a loud low roar was
heard.
"All hands on deck!" shouted Mr Collinson.
"All hands on deck!" echoed the voice of the acting boatswain, piping
shrilly as he spoke.
The men rushed from below. They had scarcely gained the deck, when that
same frothy, hissing line of foam was seen advancing which had before
been seen. Like a blow from a mallet, the gale struck the vessel. At
first, she seemed to hesitate to move forward. Then she sprang on, and
away she flew dead before it. On she went, the seas increasing rapidly
as she advanced. In a short time, however, the wind shifted and caught
the sail aback. The schooner seemed about to make a stern-board.
Before the order could be given to let go the sheets, a loud thundering
noise was heard like the report of a piece of ordnance, and the sail,
blown from the bolt-ropes, flew away before the blast. The
fore-staysail was run up, and once more the schooner's head was turned
away before the wind. On again she flew in a different direction.
"It is as I feared," said Mr Collinson to the mate, Mr Tatham. "She
is going right in among the rocks and shoals in the direction of the
Tortugas."
There were no signs of the hurricane abating; indeed, it seemed
wonderful that with the cross-breaking seas which raged round the
vessel, she should not have been sent instantly to the bottom. Mr
Collinson and the mate were at the helm. Jack Windy was stationed to
look out ahead--not that looking out would do any good. The schooner
flew on. Night was approaching. Darkness added horror to the scene.
Even the oldest seaman felt his heart sinking, and his cheek paler than
usual.
Sunshine Bill knew as well as any one the danger the schooner was in,
but he said to himself, "This is what seamen have to go through, and He
who saved us before can find a way now for us to escape, even though
coral reefs or rocky islands are ahead."
The crew kept at their stations. No one felt inclined to go below.
Like true British seamen, they determined boldly to face the danger.
Now and then there was a lull and hopes were entertained that the
hurricane was breaking. It only seemed to be taking a rest to obtain
fresh strength. Hour after hour the schooner flew on. Once or twice
Mr Collinson went below to look at the chart, but he was quickly on
deck again to resume his post.
"We must be in the midst of reefs and banks, Tatham," he observed.
"Look out on the starboard bow there. See that wall of white? The sea
is meeting with resistance there, depend on it."