“Britannia needs no bulwark,
No towers along the steep,
Her march is o’er the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.”
Campbell.
The Windsor Castle ploughed through the vast ocean of waters before a propitious gale, laden with treasure, in the safe arrival of which so many were interested. But what were all the valuables stowed away in her frame, in the opinion of Newton Forster, in comparison with the lovely being who had intrusted them with her safe conduct to her native country! The extreme precautions adopted or suggested by Newton for security during the night—his nervous anxiety during the day—became a source of laughter and ridicule to Captain Oughton; who once observed to him,—“Newton, my boy, I see how the land lies, but depend upon it the old ship won’t tumble overboard a bit sooner than before; so one reef in the top-sails will be quite sufficient.”
Indeed, although they “never mentioned it,” it was impossible for either of them to disguise their feelings. Their very attempts at concealment only rendered them more palpable to everyone on board. Captain Oughton, who was very partial to Newton, rejoiced in his good fortune. He had no objection to young people falling or being in love on board of his ship, although he would not have sanctioned or permitted a marriage to take place during the period that a young lady was under his protection. Once landed on Deal beach, as he observed, they might “buckle to” as soon as they pleased.
The Windsor Castle was within two hundred miles of the Mauritius, when a strange vessel was discovered on the weather beam, bearing down to them with all the canvas she could spread. Her appearance was warlike; but what her force might be, it was impossible to ascertain at the distance she was off, and the position which she then offered, being then nearly “end on.”
“Can you make out her hull, Mr Forster?” cried Captain Oughton, hailing Newton, who was at the mast-head with a glass.
“No, sir; her fore-yard is but now clear of the water, but she rises very fast.”
“What do you think of her spars, Forster?” said Captain Oughton to Newton, who had just descended to the last rattling of the main-rigging.
“She is very taut, sir, and her canvas appears to be foreign.”
“I’ll bet you what you please it’s that damned fellow Surcoeuf. This is just his cruising-ground, if the report of that neutral vessel was correct.”
“Another hour will decide the point, sir,” replied Newton; “but I must say I think your surmise likely to prove correct. We may as well be ready for him: a cruiser she certainly is.”