“By George, Harry,” exclaimed he, “if they Emeralds bain’t shifting topsails, I’m a miserable sinner! Ay, there goes his ‘ballooner’ aloft. His lordship don’t like the looks of our tail, seemin’ly; but I doubt whether, in this light breeze, his big topsail will enable him to catch us. My eyes! how we did slip through his lee, sure enough! Tell ye what, Harry, lad; that topsail of our’n is a good un—a rare good un for a reach, and in a moderate breeze; but we ought to have a ‘ballooner’ for running off the wind in light weather—a whacking big un, with a ‘jack’ as long as the bowsprit, and a yard as long as the lower-mast. I’m beginning to think we are under-sparred and under-sailed.”
I could scarcely agree with Bob in this. It is true that in fine weather we could carry considerably more canvas than we had; but I had a thought for the heavy weather also, and I knew that as soon as it came on to blow we should find our present sails quite as large as we could manage. Nevertheless, I made up my mind that we would have a balloon-topsail, as the voyage would be a long one, and it was possible that we might have spells of light winds for days together, when such a sail could be carried to the utmost advantage.
Notwithstanding the change of topsails, we still continued to creep away from the Emerald, and when we let go our anchor in Weymouth Roads, about six o’clock the next morning, she was still a good three miles outside of us; the wind had, in the meantime, fallen away so light, that it was not until after we had breakfasted that she drifted slowly in and brought up close to us.
Shortly afterwards, Lord — came on board, accompanied by two or three friends; and his astonishment was great when he found that we only mustered two hands, all told. He noticed the absence of a boat from our decks, and inquired whether we had lost ours, and was still more astonished when we informed him that it was taken to pieces and stowed snugly away below.
This led to a request that he might be allowed to see it; and gradually it all came out that we were bound on nothing less than a voyage to the Pacific.
He was by no means inquisitive; his questions were merely such as one yachtsman would naturally put to another. But we knew beforehand that it would be difficult to conceal the fact that we were not merely cruising for pleasure; so we had come to the conclusion that it would be best to put a bold face upon the matter, and state at once that we were going a long trip; and Bob had proposed that, in the event of any questions being asked, we should give out that we were going to seek for some traces of my father.
To this I willingly agreed, as I really meant, it possible, to endeavour to find some clue to his fate; though I could not help acknowledging to myself that, if we did make any discoveries, it would be by the merest accident.
Lord — seemed to be singularly struck with the model of the Water Lily; the only fault he found with her being the deficiency of head-room below. This fault, however, was inseparable from her peculiar shape, for, as I have already stated, she had a very shallow body, and a flat floor; and although she drew seven feet of water aft, her depth below her platform was entirely taken up with the ballast and water-tank, leaving only a height of four feet between the top of the platform and the under side of the beams; she was, in short, an exceedingly small craft for her tonnage.
We went ashore in his lordship’s boat at his invitation; and as I casually mentioned that I meant on the morrow to put our “boat” together and give her a trial, he very kindly offered to accompany us in the Emerald.
My sister was, of course, delighted to see us both, and equally delighted to hear how thoroughly satisfied we were with our little vessel. It was evident that she had not quite conquered her apprehensions on the score of our long voyage in so small a craft; but our eulogiums upon the Water Lily’s many good qualities were so enthusiastic, and the confidence we expressed in her sea-going powers so thorough, that Ada soon came to regard the voyage as in no degree more perilous than it would have been if undertaken in a vessel of four or five hundred tons.