“Well, you beat me, Tom! I never heard that; and I think, if ever they did do so, they won’t do it again in a hurry. What water have you got, my man? Port there!”
“Port it is.”
“Steady—so.”
“Shall we get down to the Nore to-night, pilot?” said the captain.
“Why, sir, I’m in hopes we shall; we have still nearly three hours’ daylight; and now that we are clear of the Hope, we shall lay fairly down Sea Reach; and if the wind will only freshen a little (and it looks very like it), we shall be able to stem the first of the flood, at all events.”
I ought to observe that Bramble, as soon as he had passed any shoal or danger, pointed it out to me; he said, “I tell it to you, because you can’t be told too often. You won’t recollect much that I tell you, I daresay; I don’t expect it; but you may recollect a little, and every little helps.”
The tide had flowed more than an hour when we passed the Nore Light and came to an anchor.
“What lights are those?” inquired I.
“That’s Sheerness,” replied Bramble. “We were talking of the French and Danes coming up the river. Why, Tom, it is not much more than one hundred and fifty years ago when the Dutch fleet came up to Sheerness, destroyed the batteries, and landed troops there; howsomever, as I said of the French and the other chaps, they won’t do so again in a hurry.”
As soon as they had veered out sufficient cable, Bramble accepted the invitation of the captain to go down in the cabin, when I went and joined the men, who were getting their supper forwards. I was soon on good terms with them; and after supper, as it was cold, they went down to the fore-peak, got out some beer and grog, and we sat round in a circle, with the bottles and mugs and a farthing candle in the centre. Being right in the eyes of her, as it is termed, we could plainly hear the water slapping against the bends outside of her, as it was divided by the keelson, and borne away by the strong flood tide. It was a melancholy sound; I had never heard it before; and during a pause, as I listened to it, one of the men observed, “Queer sound, boy, ain’t it? You’d think that the water was lapping in right among us. But noises aboard ship don’t sound as they do on shore; I don’t know why.” No more did I at that time; the fact is that nothing conveys sound better than wood, and every slight noise is magnified, in consequence, on board of a vessel.