Part 2 (2/2)
The mate, who was sitting smoking on a hen-coop, to leeward, close to the break of the p.o.o.p, rose slowly to his feet, walked to the weather side of the deck, and, shading his eyes with his hand, looked ahead, but was apparently unable to see anything.
”There she is, just over the weather cat-head!” exclaimed Ned, as he placed himself in line with the mate.
”All right! I see her,” responded the mate, as he at length caught sight of the small purple-grey spot on the south-western horizon, and he sauntered back to his seat.
At this moment Captain Blyth made his appearance on the p.o.o.p. ”Did I hear a sail reported ahead, Mr Bryce?” he asked, as he reached the p.o.o.p.
”Very likely. There _is_ one,” answered the mate, without offering to point her out.
Captain Blyth looked annoyed at this boorishness of speech and conduct, but it was habitual with the mate--he apparently knew no better--the skipper was becoming accustomed to it by this time, and, without noticing it, he walked aft and said:
”Where is she, Ned?”
Ned pointed her out.
”Ah, yes,” said the skipper. ”Is she coming this way, think you?”
”I should fancy not, sir,” answered Ned. ”It was Miss Stanhope who first sighted her; she has been steering by her for fully five minutes; and had yonder s.h.i.+p been coming this way I think we should see her more distinctly by this time than we do.”
”I'll bet any money that it's the _Southern Cross_!” exclaimed the skipper with animation. ”Get your gla.s.s, Ned, my boy, and slip up as far as the fore royal-yard, and see what you can make of her. I'll stay here, meanwhile, and see that Miss Stanhope doesn't run away with the s.h.i.+p.”
And as Ned hurried away to execute his errand, Captain Blyth turned to Sibylla and laughingly began to banter her upon her new accomplishment.
Active as a cat, Ned soon reached the royal-yard, upon which he composedly seated himself, preparatory to bringing his telescope to bear upon the stranger. A little manoeuvring sufficed him to find her; but she was so far away--quite fifteen miles--that he could make out nothing beyond the fact that she was apparently a s.h.i.+p of about the same size as the _Flying Cloud_. He remained on his elevated perch watching her for fully a quarter of an hour, a period long enough to satisfy him that both s.h.i.+ps were standing in the same direction, and then he descended.
”Well; what do you make of her?” demanded the skipper, as the lad joined him on the p.o.o.p.
Ned stated fully all that he had seen and all that he surmised--for a sailor is often able to shrewdly guess at a great deal when he sees but little; and when he had replied to the somewhat severe cross-examination to which he was subjected, Captain Blyth reiterated his former opinion:
”It is the _Southern Cross_, for a cool hundred! Mr Bryce”--to the mate--”be good enough to muster the watch, sir, and see if you cannot get those sails to set something less like so many bags than they are at present.”
There had been a pretty heavy shower earlier on in the evening, which had sensibly stretched the new canvas, and now that it was again dry it hung from the spars and stays, as the skipper had said, ”like so many bags”--a terrible eye-sore to a smart seaman--yet the mate had apparently not noticed it; or, at all events, had made no attempt to have the matter rectified.
Mr Bryce made no reply; but, rising nonchalantly from his seat, he went slowly down the p.o.o.p ladder and sauntered into the waist, where he came to a halt, and shouted:
”For'ard, there! lay aft here, all hands, and take a pull upon these sheets and halliards, will ye!”
”Confound the fellow!” muttered Captain Blyth. ”I told him to muster _the watch_; and he must needs set all hands to work.”
The men moved aft, very deliberately, clearly in no amiable mood at being given such a job in the second dog-watch, and began upon the main tack and sheet, gradually working their way upward, and from thence forward.
”What did I say, mates?” commented Williams, as they slowly brought the canvas into better trim. ”This is the 'old man's' work--this swigging away upon sheets and halliards just upon night-fall; and there he is upon the p.o.o.p looking as black as thunder, because, I suppose, we're not more lively over the job. And what's it all for? Why, simply because that young sprig, Ned, happens to sight a sail ahead of us; and because we happen to be a smart s.h.i.+p the skipper won't be satisfied until we've overhauled her. This is just the beginning of it; it'll be like this every time we happen to see anything ahead; you mark my words.”
”D'ye twig the new helmsman?” laughed another, jerking his head aft to direct attention to Sibylla, who still held the wheel.
”Ay, ay, mate; we see her,” answered Williams, who seemed to think himself called upon to play the part of spokesman. ”We see her; and a pretty creature she is. But do you think, mates, she'll ever give any of _us_ a spell when it's our trick? Not she! It's all very well when it's a smart young sprig of an apprentice--or mids.h.i.+pman, as they call themselves--that she can laugh and talk with; but it's a different matter with us poor sh.e.l.l-backs. The swells won't have anything to say to _its_.”
”Now, you're wrong there, Josh, old s.h.i.+pmate, as I can testify,” spoke up Jack Simpson, a smart young A.B. ”Mrs Henderson and Mrs Gaunt has both spoke to me; and it was only a night or two ago that, when it was my wheel, Mr Gaunt gived me a cigar; and a precious good one it was too, I can tell ye.”
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