“I hear the sound of oars!” exclaimed the chaplain, who, finding this image more distinct than even his own vivid conceptions of the great father of evil, was quite willing to conceal his inferiority by changing the discourse. “Is not one of our boats returning?”
“Ay, ay, 'tis likely; if it had been me, I should have been land-sick before this—ware round, boys, and stand by to heave to on the other tack.”
The cutter, obedient to her helm, fell off before the wind; and rolling an instant in the trough of the sea, came up again easily to her oblique position, with her head towards the cliffs; and gradually losing her way, as her sails were brought to counteract each other, finally became stationary. During the performance of this evolution, a boat had hove up out of the gloom, in the direction of the land; and by the time the Alacrity was in a state of rest, it had approached so nigh as to admit of hailing.
“Boat, ahoy!” murmured Boltrope, through a trumpet, which, aided by his lungs, produced sounds not unlike the roaring of a bull.
“Ay, ay,” was thrown back from a clear voice, that swept across the water with a fullness that needed no factitious aid to render it audible.
“Ay, there comes one of the lieutenants, with his ay, ay,” said Boltrope—“pipe the side, there, you boatswain's mate! But here's another fellow more on our quarter! Boat ahoy!”
“Alacrity”—returned another voice, in a direction different from the other.
“Alacrity! There goes my commission of captain of this craft, in a whiff,” returned the sailing-master. “That is as much as to say, here comes one who will command when he gets on board. Well, well, it is Mr. Griffith, and I can't say, notwithstanding his love of knee-buckles and small wares, but I'm glad he's out of the hands of the English! Ay, here they all come upon us at once! here is another fellow, that pulls like the jolly-boat, coming up on our lee-beam, within hail—let us see if he is asleep—boat ahoy!”
“Flag,” answered a third voice from a small, light-rowing boat, which had approached very near the cutter, in a direct line from the cliffs, without being observed.
“Flag!” echoed Boltrope, dropping his trumpet in amazement—“that's a big word to come out of a jolly-boat! Jack Manly himself could not have spoken it with a fuller mouth; but I'll know who it is that carries such a weather helm, with a Yankee man-of-war's prize! Boat ahoy! I say.”