“There,” said Bowen to George, with an admiring glance aloft at his own handiwork, “I think that’ll do pretty well; we look helpless enough now for anything. Masthead, ahoy!”—to the lookout aloft—“what about the strangers now?”
“They’ve dropped alongside one another, sir,” was the reply.
“Very well; keep your eye upon them, and let us know when you see any change in their movements.”
The stereotyped “Ay, ay,” by way of reply, was duly given, and then George and Bowen, side by side, and with hands folded behind them, began to trudge fore and aft, from the main-mast to the taffrail, patiently awaiting the course of events.
About a quarter of an hour elapsed, and then the lookout hailed again—
“On deck, there! The barque has cast off, and is standing down towards us. They’re busy getting the stunsails upon her now, sir.”
“All right; stay where you are, and let’s hear, if you see anything worth reporting,” replied Bowen.
A few minutes later another report was made to the effect that the other sail—a full-rigged ship—had filled, and was standing to the northward under all plain sail. That was the last news from either of the vessels, and, the barque shortly afterwards becoming visible from the deck, orders were given to clear the brig for action, and the lookout was ordered down on deck.
There was a capital working breeze, and not much sea; it was, consequently, not very long before the barque had raised her hull above the horizon. As soon as she was fairly in view, George brought his telescope to bear upon her, and ten minutes’ careful scrutiny sufficed to satisfy him that, though her spars were heavier, and she now showed a wider spread of canvas than of old, she was undoubtedly, as he had suspected, his own old ship, the Aurora. He further noted that she was not very deep in the water, being in fact just in her very best sailing-trim; and, remembering her former capabilities, he was not long in making up his mind that, if her present crew happened to become suspicious of the character of the Virginie, and shunned an engagement, it would be a very difficult matter to bring the Aurora to action.
But if those in possession of the barque entertained any misgivings, they certainly gave no visible indication of them: on the contrary, they came sweeping down upon the Virginie under a perfect cloud of canvas, and in a manner so obviously threatening, that, in order to maintain the illusion to the last, George thought it advisable to exhibit some slight signs of uneasiness, and he accordingly ordered the royals to be loosed and set, and edged away a point or two off his course, at the same time, however, checking his weather braces to such an extent that the brig’s speed was not very greatly improved by the manoeuvre. In the meantime the decks had been cleared, the guns loaded, and the crew fully armed with cutlass, pike, and pistol. The port-lids however, were kept carefully closed, so that the presence of the guns on board might not be revealed until an action should have become inevitable.