TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman.”
—King Henry IV
The moment was now one of high and earnest excitement. Each individual, who was charged with a portion of the subordinate authority of the ship, had examined into the state of his command, with that engrossing care which always deepens as responsibility draws nigher to the proofs of its being worthily bestowed. The voice of the harsh master had ceased to inquire into the state of those several ropes and chains that were deemed vital to the safety of the vessel; each chief of a battery had assured and re-assured himself that his artillery was ready for instant, and the most effective, service; extra ammunition had already issued from its dark and secret repository; and even the hum of dialogue had ceased, in the more engrossing and all-absorbing interest of the scene. Still the quick and ever-changing glance of the Rover could detect no reason to distrust the firmness of his people. They were grave, as are ever the bravest and steadiest in the hour of trial; but their gravity was mingled with no signs of concern. It seemed rather like the effect of desperate and concentrated resolution, such as braces the human mind to efforts which exceed the ordinary daring of martial enterprise. To this cheering exhibition of the humour of his crew the wary and sagacious leader saw but three exceptions; they were found in the persons of his lieutenant and his two remarkable associates.
It has been seen that the bearing of Wilder was not altogether such as became one of his rank in a moment of great trial. The keen, jealous glances of the Rover had studied and re-studied his manner, without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion as to its real cause. The colour was as fresh on the cheeks of the youth, and his limbs were as firm as in the hours of entire security; but the unsettled wandering of his eye, and an air of doubt and indecision which pervaded a mien that ought to display qualities so opposite, gave his Commander cause for deep reflection. As if to find an explanation of the enigma in the deportment of the associates of Wilder, his look sought the persons of Fid and the negro. They were both stationed at the piece nearest to the place he himself occupied, the former filling the station of captain of the gun.
The ribs of the ship itself were not firmer in their places than was the attitude of the topman, as he occasionally squinted along the massive iron tube over which he was placed in command; nor was that familiar and paternal care, which distinguishes the seaman’s interest in his particular trust, wanting in his manner. Still, an air of broad and inexplicable surprise had possession of his rugged lineaments; and ever, as his look wandered from the countenance of Wilder to their adversary, it was not difficult to discover that he marvelled to find the two in opposition. He neither commented on, nor complained, however, of an occurrence he evidently found so extraordinary, but appeared perfectly disposed to pursue the spirit of that well-known maxim of the mariner which teaches the obedient tar “to obey orders, though he break owners.” Every portion of the athletic form of the negro was motionless, except his eyes. These large, jet-black orbs, however rolled incessantly, like the more dogmatic organs of the topman, from Wilder to the strange sail, seeming to drink in fresh draughts of astonishment at each new look.
Struck by these evident manifestations of some extraordinary and yet common sentiment between the two, the Rover profited by his own position, and the distance of the lieutenant, to address them. Leaning over the slight rail that separated the break of the poop from the quarter-deck, he said, in that familiar manner which the Commander is most wont to use to his inferiors when their services are becoming of the greatest importance,—
“I hope, master Fid, they have put you at a gun that knows how to speak.”
“There is not a smoother bore, nor a wider mouth, in the ship, your Honour, than these of ‘Blazing Billy,’” returned the topman, giving the subject of his commendations an affectionate slap. “All I ask is a clean spunge and a tight wad. Guinea score a foul anchor, in your own fashion, on a half dozen of the shot; and, after the matter is all over, they who live through it may go aboard the enemy, and see in what manner Richard Fid has planted his seed.”
“You are not new in action, master Fid?”
“Lord bless your Honour! gunpowder is no more than dry tobacco in my nostrils! tho’f I will say”
“You were going to add”——
“That sometimes I find myself shifted over, in these here affairs,” returned the topman, glancing his eye first at the flag of France, and then at the distant emblem of England, “like a jib-boom rigged, abaft, for a jury to the spanker. I suppose master Harry has it all in his pocket, in black and white; but this much I will say, that, if I must throw stones, I should rather see them break a neighbour’s crockery than that of my own mother.—I say, Guinea, score a couple more of the shot; since, if the play is to be acted, I’ve a mind the ‘Blazing Billy’ should do something creditable for the honour of her good name.”
The Rover drew back, thoughtful and silent. He then caught a look from Wilder, whom he again beckoned to approach.
“Mr Wilder,” he said, in a tone of kindness, “I comprehend your feelings. All have not offended alike in yonder vessel, and you would rather your service against that haughty flag should commence with some other ship. There is little else but empty honour to be gained in the conflict—in tenderness to your feelings, I will avoid it.”
“It is too late,” said Wilder, with a melancholy shake of the head.
“You shall see your error. The experiment may cost us a broadside, but it shall succeed. Go, descend with our guests to a place of safety; and, by the time you return, the scene shall have undergone a change.”
Wilder eagerly disappeared in the cabin, whither Mrs Wyllys had already withdrawn; and, after communicating the intentions of his Commander to avoid an action, he conducted them into the depths of the vessel, in order that no casualty might arrive to imbitter his recollections of the hour. This grateful duty promptly and solicitously performed, our adventurer again sought the deck, with the velocity of thought.
Notwithstanding his absence had seemed but of a moment, the scene had indeed changed in all its hostile images. In place of the flag of France, he found the ensign of England floating at the peak of the “Dolphin,” and a quick and intelligible exchange of lesser signals in active operation between the two vessels. Of all that cloud of canvas which had so lately borne down the vessel of the Rover, her top sails alone remained distended to the yards; the remainder was hanging in festoons, and fluttering loosely before a favourable breeze. The ship itself was running directly for the stranger, who, in turn, was sullenly securing his lofty sails, like one who was disappointed in a high-prized and expected object.
“Now is yon fellow sorry to believe him a friend whom he had lately supposed an enemy,” said the Rover, directing the attention of his lieutenant to the confiding manner with which their neighbour suffered himself to be deceived by his surreptitiously obtained signals. “It is a tempting offer; but I pass it, Wilder for your sake.”
The gaze of the lieutenant seemed bewildered, but he made no reply. Indeed, but little time was given for deliberation or discourse. The “Dolphin” rolled swiftly along her path, and each moment dissipated the mist in which distance had enveloped the lesser objects on board the stranger. Guns, blocks, ropes, bolts, men, and even features, became plainly visible, in rapid succession, as the water that divided them was parted by the bows of the lawless ship. In a few short minutes, the stranger, having secured most of his lighter canvas, came sweeping up to the wind; and then, as his after-sails, squared for the purpose, took the breeze on their outer surface, the mass of his hull became stationary.
The people of the “Dolphin” had so far imitated the confiding credulity of the deceived cruiser of the Crown, as to furl all their loftiest duck, each man employed in the service trusting implicitly to the discretion and daring of the singular being whose pleasure it was to bring their ship into so hazardous a proximity to a powerful enemy—qualities that had been known to avail them in circumstances of even greater delicacy than those in which they were now placed. With this air of audacious confidence, the dreaded Rover came gliding down upon her unsuspecting neighbour, until within a few hundred feet of her weather-beam, when she too, with a graceful curve in her course, bore up against the breeze, and came to a state