The “Banner.”
The Banner bounded along as silently as if she had been a phantom yacht. She seemed to know the desperate situation of her crew. Every inch of the canvas was spread, the top-masts bent like fishing-rods under the weight of the heavy sails, and Bab now and then cast an anxious eye aloft, momentarily expecting to see one of them give away under the unusual strain. But every rope held as if additional strength had been imparted to it. Not a block creaked; the tiller-rope, which usually groaned so loudly, gave out no sound as Bab moved the wheel back and forth; and even the water which boiled up under the bows, and now and then came on deck by buckets-full, gave out a faint, gurgling sound, as if it too sympathized with the boy crew. Ten minutes passed, and then Walter, who was watching the lights through his night-glass, stooped and whispered a few words to Wilson. The latter hurried aft and repeated them to Bab, and a moment later the yacht came up into the wind and lay like a log on the waves, drifting stern foremost toward the beach. The lights were scarcely a hundred yards distant. Nearer and nearer they came, and presently a high, black hull loomed up through the darkness, and moved swiftly past the yacht into the bay. The young sailors held their breath in suspense, some closely watching the huge mass, which seemed almost on the point of running them down, others turning away their heads that they might not see it, and all listening for the hail from her deck which should announce their discovery. But the frigate was as silent as if she had been deserted. She was not more than a minute in passing the yacht, and then she faded out of sight as quickly as she had come into view. Her captain did not expect to find the smuggler in the Gulf, but in the bay, and in the act of discharging her contraband cargo; and to this alone the Banner owed her escape.
As soon as the frigate was out of sight, Wilson carried another whispered order to Bab, and once more the Banner went bounding along the shore. It may have been all imagination on the part of her crew, and it doubtless was, but every one of them was ready to declare that she moved as if she felt easier after her narrow escape. The blocks creaked, the tiller-rope groaned as usual, the masts cracked and snapped, and the water under the bow roared and foamed like a miniature Niagara. Her company, one and all, breathed as if a mountain had been removed from their shoulders, but there were no signs of exultation among them. Their danger had been too great for that.
“Now just listen to me a minute, and I’ll tell you what’s a fact,” said Perk, who was the first to find his tongue. “If you were a smuggler, Walter, you soon get up a reputation, and you would bother the custom-house fellows more than Captain Conway ever did. He couldn’t do a neater trick than that, if he is an old—”
Crack! went something over their heads, with a report like that of a pistol, bringing Perk’s congratulations to a sudden close, and startling every boy who heard it. Before they had time to look aloft there was another crash, and the main-topmast, with the sail attached, fell over to leeward, and flapped wildly in the wind. The backstay had parted, and of course the mast went by the board.
“Thank goodness! it held until we were out of danger,” said Walter, as soon as he had made himself acquainted with the nature of the accident. “A crash like that, when the frigate was alongside, would have settled matters for us in a hurry.”
Perk and Wilson at once went aloft to clear away the wreck, and Walter, being left to himself, began thoughtfully pacing the deck. Now that all danger from the frigate was passed, he had leisure to ponder upon that which was yet to come. What would be done with him and his companions when they gave themselves up to the authorities of the port? Would they believe their story? If the yacht had been supplied with the provisions necessary for the voyage to Bellville he would not have run the risk. He would have filled away for home without the loss of a moment. He had half a mind to try it any how. While he was turning the matter over in his mind, Eugene announced that there were more lights ahead of them.
“We had better get out our own lanterns,” said the young commander. “There’s no fun in rushing with almost railroad speed through such darkness as this. Some craft might run us down.”
While the captain and his brother were employed in getting out the lights and hanging them to the catheads, Perk called out from the cross-trees, where he was busy with the broken mast: “I say, Walter, there’s another frigate coming.”
“How do you know?”