“Ah! that is because you have never been away from home,” remarked Raleigh. “I have already been up the Mediterranean once, and without for a moment attempting to decry the—”
“Hands, trim sails. In with the stunsails on the starboard side; rig in and secure the booms, ease up the larboard braces, and take a small pull upon the starboard, rig out the booms on the port side and get the stunsails on her again. Be smart, my lads, or we shall have the frigate alongside presenting us with a full view of her stern all the way down Channel.”
So spake the first lieutenant, the boatswain’s whistle chirped, and in a moment the stillness on board gave place to a scene of bustle and animation. The breeze, after faintly ruffling the glassy surface of the water with an occasional cat’s-paw, came softly stealing out from the E.S.E., and every sail was immediately trimmed with the most scrupulous nicety to woo the gentle zephyr. The lighter and more lofty sails first acknowledged its welcome presence, alternately swelling out and fluttering to the masts, like the gentle rise and fall of the breast of sleeping beauty, then they filled out steadily, the lower and heavier canvas also sullenly yielding to its influence; a soft, musical, rippling sound arose beneath the frigate’s bows, tiny whirlpools formed in the wake of the rudder and trailed away astern, the pressure of the spokes upon the helmsman’s hand became firm and steady, a faint creak was occasionally heard aloft as the strain upon the spars increased, the sails “went to sleep,” the sheets tautened out, the ripple under the bows grew louder and louder, until it emulated the rush of a mountain torrent, and the foam gathered round the cutwater, hissing along the side, and swirling far away in our wake, as the “Juno,” yielding to the freshening breeze, swept out past the Needles, and hauled up a point or two for Ushant.
Chapter Nine.
Into a Trap and out again.
The “Boston” was still in company at breakfast-time the following morning, but we had by that time contrived to leave her a good two miles astern, a feat which in view of that frigate’s reputation occasioned general exultation to the “Junos,” for, as little Summers sagely remarked at the breakfast-table, “what was the use of going to sea in a ship whose sailing powers were unequal to the task of taking her crew alongside an enemy?”
“Well, the old tub has not done badly, so far,” observed young Smellie. “She turns out a good deal better than I had been led to expect. I met a mid who had formerly belonged to her, on the day that I came down to join, and he said that the fastest he had ever known her to go was six knots, and that it took her the length of a dog-watch to go about.”
“Well, if she will stay at all, we shall not be so badly off as I was in the old ‘Ajax,’” ejaculated Summers. “We were always obliged to wear her, and if we could get her round upon the other tack without running more than three miles to leeward we considered we had done pretty well.”