Then, as to the ship herself. Though it was early yet to form a distinct and definite opinion of her, having had only a few hours’ experience of her under sail, and that, too, in a light breeze and smooth water, still her behaviour under those circumstances had been such as led me to feel assured, from past experience, that she was everything a seaman’s heart could wish. That she was certain to prove extraordinarily fast I was convinced, even before we had spread a single cloth of canvas, by the ease with which the tug had walked away down the river with her. And after the tug had let go our hawser and left us to our own devices, we had overhauled and passed everything in our company with an ease and rapidity that proved her to be a perfect witch in light breezes; while now, when the rest of the fleet were either drifting helplessly with the tide and heading to all points of the compass, or anchoring to avoid falling foul of something else, we were sneaking along at a good two knots through the water, with the ship under perfect command of her helm.
At length the sounds of the children’s happy voices ceased down below: and, a few minutes later, Sir Edgar emerged from the saloon companion. He paused for a moment to address a cheery remark or two to the little party aft, and then joined me near the break of the poop, where I had been standing for some time gazing abstractedly about me in a contented, half-dreamy fashion at our surroundings. He made some conventional remark as to the wonderful calmness and beauty of the evening, and offered me a cigar; upon which, responding to his friendly overtures, I turned, and we proceeded to quietly pace the deck together; the baronet—for such he proved to be—confiding to me, in an easy, chatty manner, the circumstances that had led to the family undertaking the voyage.
At length, when the dusk of evening had fairly merged into the darkness of night, and the illimitable vault above us had become spangled and powdered with stars innumerable of every magnitude, a delicate sheen appeared on the eastern horizon, glowing faintly and softly at first as the tremulous shimmer of summer lightning, but brightening by imperceptible degrees until it revealed a hitherto invisible bank of fleecy vapour lying low along the horizon’s margin, the rounded edges of which it daintily touched here and there with glowing silver. Rapidly, yet with the most subtle mutations, the glow increased in strength and splendour, the colour at the same time deepening to a warm orange hue; and presently, above the upper edge of the cloud-bank, the sharp rim of the moon’s broad disc soared into view, ruddy as a shield of burning gold, while simultaneously a wavering line of ruddy gold flashed across the gleaming surface of the water almost to the ship’s side. Slowly and majestically, as befits the movements of the stately queen of night, the glowing orb rose clear of the cloud-bank, her orange beams flowing softly into the shadows of the night and revealing here and there in clear but delicate outline the forms and details of craft that had before appeared but as black shapeless blots against the starlit heavens; while the hull and canvas of our craft, that had hitherto worn the aspect of a huge black shadow upon sky and water, now glowed faint but clear in the warm light, with rich touches of ruddy gold here and there where the radiance struck and was reflected from the dew-wetted bulwarks, the glistening spars, the taut rigging, or the polished brass and glass about the deck fittings and skylights.
The misty light now revealed to us that we were in the very heart of a fleet numbering some two hundred and fifty sail, most of which were at anchor, many with their canvas more or less snugly stowed; but there were a few—perhaps a dozen in all—on board which the canvas hung in the brails, all ready for sheeting home and hoisting away at a moment’s notice. There were also a few—obviously outward-bound, like ourselves—who were—also like ourselves—holding on in the evident hope that with the rising of the moon, or at all events before the turn of the tide, a little breeze might spring up which would obviate the necessity of letting go the mud-hook, with the attendant loss of time and expenditure of labour in getting it again and making sail once more. It was soon evident that this hope was to be realised, for the moon had scarcely been above the horizon half an hour when a narrow dark line appeared stretching along the horizon beneath her, and gradually widening, until at length a very pretty little easterly breeze reached us, under the influence of which, heeling slightly and coquettishly away from it, the saucy Esmeralda began to slip along, with scarcely more than a ripple at her sharp bows, at the rate of a good honest seven knots.
Impelled by this most welcome breeze, we were soon round the South Foreland and off Dover, where we hove-to to land the pilot. In executing this manoeuvre we passed close under the stern of a magnificent topsail schooner-yacht, as large as ourselves, with hull painted a brilliant white, which, in the pale moonlight and with her snow-white canvas, made her look like a beautiful phantom craft. She was getting under way, and had just tripped her anchor and was canting to the southward when we rounded to under her stern; and I noticed Mr Roberts, my chief mate, looking long and admiringly at her as she gathered way and, swinging her fore-yard, glided swiftly, yet with a stately movement, out from among the crowd of craft by which she was surrounded. Turning away at last, as if regretfully, from the contemplation of the noble vessel, Roberts stamped his foot impatiently, and, striding up to the pilot, demanded—
“I say, Mr Pilot, is there any chance of those mates of yours catching sight of our signals to-night, think ye, or are they keeping a lookout from between the blankets?”
The pilot, whose perfect calmness and indifference were in ludicrous contrast to the mate’s impatience, turned slowly round and eyed his questioner deliberately from top to toe before he deigned to answer.
“They will be alongside in less than a minute, mister. They are shut in behind that billy-boy just now; but—Ah, here they come!”
“Lay aft here, one of you,” shouted the mate, “and stand by with a line for that boat.”
“You will come below and take a glass of wine or a glass of grog before you go ashore, pilot?”