Part 29 (1/2)
The petty officer stepped forward and received some brief instructions from his superior, which were given in Jack's hearing.
”These are Union boys, and one of them has come out here to s.h.i.+p,” said the officer. ”I want you to pilot him to the _Harriet Lane_. You are not to interfere with the management of the schooner in any way, for she is not a prize. She sails under our flag. Tell the captain the same story you have told me,” he added, turning to Jack, ”and I think it will be all right. Good-bye.”
With these parting words the officer and his boarding party clambered down into the launch, which put off to resume her useless vigil at the mouth of the Inlet; the boatswain's mate, at Jack's request, took his place at the wheel, and the _Fairy Belle_ filled away on her course.
”All right so far,” said Marcy, who breathed a great deal easier now than he did when the launch first hove in sight. ”If the captain of the _Harriet Lane_ treats us as well as that ensign did, I shall be glad I came out here.”
”He will, sir,” said the boatswain's mate, letting go of the wheel with one hand long enough to raise his forefinger to his cap. ”He always does. We have often had sh.o.r.e boats, come off to us since we have been on the blockade.”
”You have!” exclaimed Marcy, who was very much surprised. ”And do you let them go ash.o.r.e again when they get ready?”
”Cert'ny, sir. They come and go betwixt two days--not because they are afraid of us, but because they must look out that the rebels ash.o.r.e don't hear of it. Some of the boats get news from Newbern every day or so.”
”We know that,” answered Jack. ”And we heard a rebel say, not long ago, that if the Newbern people could find out who it is that sends off the papers so regularly they would make short work of him. How much farther have we to go?”
”Not more than ten miles, sir. We'll see our lights directly.”
”Do you know anything about this little blockade-runner that your launch is watching for?” inquired Marcy. ”Who is she? What's her name and where does she hail from?”
”We know all about her, sir, for we chased her once when she was the privateer _Osprey_. She belongs up Roanoke River, but she runs the blockade out of Newbern. Her captain--what's this his name is again?--Beardsley, used to be a smuggler; and if we get our hands on him we'll be likely to remember him for that. Our Uncle Sam ain't so broke up yet but what he can deal with men who have violated his laws.”
”I hope to goodness you may get your hands upon him,” thought Marcy, who was surprised at the extent and accuracy of the blue-jacket's information. It proved beyond a doubt that there were Union men ash.o.r.e who kept the Yankee commanders posted, and Marcy wished he knew who they were. He might find it convenient to appeal to them if he and his mother got into trouble with Captain Beardsley.
The strong breeze being in her favor, the _Fairy Belle_ made good speed along the coast, and in due time the warning lights of the Union war vessel showed themselves through the darkness. It was not customary for the Union cruisers to show lights and thus point out their position to vessels that might approach the coast with the intention of running the blockade, but being anch.o.r.ed off an inlet that was known to be in full possession of our forces, the captain of the _Harriet Lane_ knew that no such vessels would come near him. While the blue-jacket was explaining this to the boys, a hoa.r.s.e voice came from the gunboat's deck.
”Schooner ahoy!” it roared.
”No, no!” replied the man at the _Fairy Belle's_ wheel.
”That's a little the queerest answer to a hail _I_ ever heard,” was Jack's comment.
”Be ready to stand by the sheets fore and aft, for we must round to under her stern and come up on her port side,” said the boatswain's mate. ”The answer was all right, sir, and in strict accordance with naval rules. Had I been a captain, I should have given the name of my s.h.i.+p. Had I been a wardroom officer, I should have answered, 'Ay, ay!'
But being neither one nor the other, I gave the same reply that the steerage officers have to give.”
”And what answer would you have given if the admiral was aboard of us?”
inquired Jack.
”I should have said 'Flag,' sir. You give different replies for different ranks so that the officer of the deck may know how to receive the people that are coming aboard. It would make him awful mad if you gave such an answer that he would extend wardroom honors to a steerage officer. Now, stand by to slack away and haul in.”
Five minutes' skilful manoeuvring sufficed to bring the schooner around the stern of the gunboat and up to an open gangway, in which stood the officer of the deck and one of the s.h.i.+p's boys, who held a lighted lantern in his hand. To the former the boatswain's mate reported:
”A sh.o.r.e boat, sir, with a couple of Union boys aboard. Mr. Colson sent me down here with her. One of 'em wants to s.h.i.+p, sir. He's got papers.”
”Let them come aboard,” said the officer.
”It was easy enough for Jack to obey the order, for the gangway was low; but Marcy, having but one hand to work with, required a good deal of a.s.sistance. As there was considerable swell on, Julius and the boatswain's mate remained on board the schooner to fend her off with the aid of boat-hooks.
”I have come off to s.h.i.+p under the old flag, sir,” was the way in which Jack introduced himself and his business.
”Are you an able seaman?” inquired the officer.
”I am, sir, and there is the proof.”