“No, indeed,” said Lance. “She was built at Weymouth by an ordinary shipbuilder, who, for aught I know, had never in his life built a yacht before. I was stationed there at the time, and I designed her myself, and of course superintended her construction.”
“You don’t say. Waal, I knew that the soldiers did most everything; but I didn’t ’low that they designed yachts!” exclaimed Johnson.
“Neither do we, professionally,” admitted Lance; “but some of us, of whom I happen to be one, take up the study of naval architecture as an amusement; and those who, like myself, belong to the Engineer corps, are to some extent qualified by our technical education to achieve excellence in the art. I can assure you that some of the officers in my corps have turned out exceedingly creditable craft.”
“Waal now, that beats ah,” exclaimed Johnson. “So you’re an Engineer, and can design yachts into the bargain! Stranger,”—laying his hand impressively on Lance’s arm—“I’m real glad I took you all aboard. About this schooner of yours—she is a schooner, I reckon!”
Lance nodded an affirmative.
“Waal, about this schooner of yours, is she a pretty sea-boat?”
“She is as comfortable a vessel as I would ever wish to have under my feet,” answered Lance with just a slight touch of enthusiasm. “She will face any weather a frigate would dare to look at; and in a gale of wind, such as once caught us in the Bay of Biscay, is a great deal drier and more comfortable than many frigates would be.”
“Waal now, I call this real interesting,” exclaimed Johnson with sparkling eyes. “And I s’pose she was tol’able weatherly?”
“About the same as other vessels of her class. All yachts, you know, if they are the least worthy the name, go to windward well; it is one of their strong points.”
“Do you think now, colonel, you could recollect enough to design another yacht just like your own schooner?” asked Johnson eagerly.