It struck me that the men-o’-war’s people were not keeping their eyes quite so wide open as they might have done; for there were only four other schooners beside ourselves in the whole fleet, and one would have supposed that the presence of a fifth would instantly have been noticed—especially when that fifth wore so very roguish an appearance as the Dolphin,—yet throughout the whole of that day no effort was made to ascertain our nationality, where we came from, whither we were bound, or anything about us! Of course, under ordinary circumstances, having ascertained that the convoy was British, and, therefore, of no especial interest to us, we should have parted company by getting the schooner round with her head to the southward. There was, however, one circumstance that decided the skipper to keep company with the convoy a little longer, and it was this: As has already been mentioned, there was a very fine, frigate-built merchantman in the fleet, which, when morning dawned, was seen to be in a situation of considerable difficulty, her fore and mizzen-topmast and main-topgallant-mast being over the side, having apparently been carried away during the night by the tremendous rolling and pitching of the ship. And near her was an exceedingly smart-looking brigantine, with main-topmast and fore topgallant-mast housed. This vessel joined the convoy about daybreak and was now hove-to under a close-reefed main trysail, and fore-topmast-staysail, which ought to have enabled her to easily forge ahead and eat out to windward of the disabled ship. And, as a matter of fact, she did so; yet somehow she always seemed to drop back again into her old place, just to leeward of the ship; and after observing her motions for some time, I became impressed with the idea that this was the result of deliberate design, rather than of accident. For something seemed to be constantly going wrong with her trysail sheet, necessitating a temporary taking in of the sail, during which she would pay off and go wallowing away to leeward for a distance of three or four miles, when the sail would be reset, and she would come creeping stealthily and imperceptibly up into somewhere near her old berth again. And this was done so naturally that, had it not occurred more than once, I do not know that I should have taken any notice of it. To me, however, the circumstance wore a rather suspicious appearance; and when I had mentioned it to the skipper he seemed somewhat disposed to take my view that the craft, although apparently British built, was in reality an enemy’s privateer, with designs upon the disabled ship as soon as a favourable opportunity should occur for carrying them out. At all events there appeared to be enough probability in the hypothesis to induce Captain Winter to remain in company of the convoy, to watch the progress of events, instead of wearing round and resuming our course to the southward.
The gale continued to blow all day with unabated fury, and the convoy, of course, remained hove-to. But, as the hours wore on, the several craft gradually became more scattered, the less weatherly vessels steadily settling away to leeward, until, by the time that the dark, gloomy day drew toward its close, the fleet was spread out over a surface of ocean measuring, as nearly as one could judge, nearly or quite twelve miles in every direction: those craft that had sustained damage aloft naturally for the most part settling to leeward at a greater rate than the rest, since they were unable to dispose their canvas so advantageously as the others for the purpose of lying-to. The frigate and gun-brigs were kept busy all day watching these stragglers, urging them by signal, and the occasional firing of guns, to close with the main body of the fleet, and generally playing the part of sheep-dogs; while the crews of the lame ducks could be seen clearing away the wreck of their broken spars, unbending their split sails and bending others in place, and, in fact, doing their utmost to comply with the orders of the men-o’-war. But, after all, their utmost was but little; the merchantmen being altogether too lightly manned to be able to do really effective work in the face of such a gale as was then blowing. The brigantine that had excited our suspicions had come in for a share of the attention of one of the gun-brigs, and it was noticeable that, after the man-o’-war had run down and hailed her, no further accidents appeared to have happened aboard her, so that the disabled ship had gradually settled away some five miles astern and to leeward of her. Just as the darkness was closing down upon us, however, she took in her trysail and fore-topmast-staysail, and set a main-staysail instead; but they were so long about it that, when at length the change had been effected, the ship had drawn up to within about half a mile of the brigantine’s lee quarter. I directed Captain Winter’s attention to this, and he agreed with me that the manoeuvre had an exceedingly suspicious appearance.
“The ship, however, is quite safe for the present,” he remarked; “for, even assuming the brigantine to be a Frenchman and a privateer, her people can do nothing so long as it continues to blow so heavily as at present. But directly that the wind shows signs of dropping we may look out; and if we observe any further suspicious manoeuvres we may safely conclude that she is French, and, if the men-o’-war do not forestall us, we will have a slap at her; for she appears to be a wonderfully fast and weatherly craft and is certainly a most magnificent sea-boat.”
I determined that I would keep a sharp eye upon the movements of that brigantine—for I could not rid my mind of a very strong suspicion that her people meant mischief,—and I accordingly watched her until she had displayed her light, which I then pointed out to a man whom I told off for the especial purpose of keeping his eye on it; it being my intention to persuade the skipper, if possible, to run down a little closer to her when it had become sufficiently dark to conceal our movements from observation. Captain Winter offered no objection to my proposal; and accordingly, at eight bells of the second dog-watch, when the deck was relieved, our helm was put up and we edged away down toward the light which was stated to be that of the brigantine. But when at length, by careful manoeuvring, we had contrived to approach within biscuit-toss of the vessel displaying it, it was discovered, to my chagrin, that she was not the brigantine, but a large barque, the skipper of which appeared to be greatly frightened at our sudden appearance near him; for he hailed us, in execrable French, that he was armed, and that if we did not sheer off forthwith he would fire into us. I replied, in English, that he need not be afraid of us, as we were British, like himself, and then inquired whether he had seen a large brigantine in his neighbourhood. I got a reply to my question, it is true, but it was utterly incomprehensible; and I doubt very much whether the man understood what I had said to him; for the wind rendered it almost impossible for the most powerful voice to make itself heard, unless at a very short distance and dead to windward, as was the barque when her skipper hailed us. We made several attempts to find the brigantine that night, but somehow failed to stumble across either her or the disabled ship upon which we suspected her of entertaining designs.
Chapter Nine.
A narrow escape, and a fortunate discovery.
About midnight there were signs that the gale had pretty well blown itself out. There was a distinct, if not very strongly-marked decrease in the strength of the wind, and about an hour before dawn the veil of impenetrable vapour overhead broke away, showing, first of all, a small patch of clear sky, with half a dozen stars or so blinking out of it, and then other and larger patches, with more stars; until, by the time of sunrise, the sky was clear, save for the thin detached tatters of fleecy vapour that still swept scurrying away to the northward and eastward.
It was my morning watch on deck; and with the first grey light of early dawn I indulged in a thoroughly searching scrutiny of the fleet—or as much of it as still remained in sight,—on the look-out for the brigantine; but I failed to discover any traces either of her or of the disabled ship. This I considered not only surprising but exceedingly suspicious; as the crew of the ship had contrived, during the previous day, to clear away the wreck of their top-hamper, and to get their craft once more under command by setting their fore and main-topsails and a make-shift fore-staysail, under which the vessel appeared to be doing exceedingly well when the darkness of the preceding night had closed down upon the convoy. Indeed, so well had she been doing that it occurred to me as possible that she might, during the night, have managed to work herself into a tolerably weatherly position, relatively to the rest of the fleet; and I therefore took the ship’s telescope and went up as far as the cross-trees, to see whether, from that elevation, I could discover anything of her to windward. But although I spent a long half-hour aloft, carefully scrutinising every craft in sight, I was quite unable to pick up either the ship or the brigantine. I was still aloft when the skipper made his appearance on deck; and, as I had by that time about concluded my search, upon seeing him looking up at me I gave one more comprehensive glance round the horizon, and then descended to make my report.