“Thank you, Mr Boyne,” I replied. “Just stay there a little longer, if you please; keep your eye on the strangers and report anything noteworthy which you may see.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” was the answer, and to work the lad again went with his telescope most industriously.
We could now hear the firing quite distinctly on deck, but of course were unable to see anything, though we expected to catch the gleam of canvas on the horizon very shortly.
Presently young Boyne hailed again:
“The big fellow is overhauling the little one very fast, sir!”
“No doubt. How does the frigate bear now, Mr Boyne?”
“About three points on our weather bow, sir.”
“Thank you! Keep her away a point,”—to the helmsman. “Mr Pottle, take a small pull upon the weather-braces, if you please, and give her another foot or two of the main sheet.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Pottle. “Lay aft here, you sea-dogs, and check the weather-braces. Royal-yard there! hold on tight, we are going to take a pull upon the weather-braces. Are you all ready there? Now then, lads, steady, not too much; you’ve rather overdone it. Ease off an inch or two of that royal-brace; haul taut to leeward, well there, belay! Lee to’gallant-brace haul taut; topsail and fore-braces, well there, belay of all. Forecastle there! ease up that flying-jib sheet. What do you mean, you know-nothings, by flattening the sail like that? So, that’s better, belay!” And so the old fellow went on, making the round of the decks and trimming every sail until it drew to the utmost advantage.
At length, as the schooner rose upon the crest of a sea, the gleam of the sun upon white canvas was caught for a moment and instantly reported by a dozen eager voices from the forecastle. It then bore two and a half points good upon the weather bow. I again hailed the royal-yard: