“How now?” exclaimed the same strange voice; “there is no one victualled aboard here that speaks thus. Whereaway are you, he that answers?”
“A little on your larboard bow; here, in the shadow of the ship.”
“And what are ye about, within the sweep of my hawse?”
“Cutting the waves with my taffrail,” returned Wilder, after a moment’s hesitation.
“What fool has broke adrift here!” muttered his interrogator. “Pass a blunderbuss forward, and let us see if a civil answer can’t be drawn from the fellow.”
“Hold!” said a calm but authoritative voice from the most distant part of the ship; “it is as it should be, let them approach.”
The man in the bows of the vessel bade them come along side, and then the conversation ceased. Wilder had now an opportunity to discover, that, as the hail had been intended for another boat, which was still at a distance, he had answered prematurely. But, perceiving that it was too late to retreat with safety, or perhaps only acting in conformity to his original determination, he directed his companions to obey.
“‘Cutting the waves with the taffrail,’ is not the civillest answer a man can give to a hail,” muttered Fid, as he dropped the blade of his oar into the water; “nor is it a matter to be logged in a man’s memory, that they have taken offence at the same. Howsomever, master Harry, if they are so minded as to make a quarrel about the thing, give them as good as they send, and count on manly backers.”
No reply was made to this encouraging assurance for, by this time, the skiff was within a few feet of the ship. Wilder ascended the side of the vessel amid a deep, and, as he felt it to be, an ominous silence. The night was dark, though enough light fell from the stars, that were here and there visible, to render objects sufficiently distinct to the practised eyes of a seaman. When our young adventurer touched the deck, he cast a hurried and scrutinizing look about him, as if doubts and impressions, which had long been harboured, were all to be resolved by that first view.
An ignorant landsman would have been struck with the order and symmetry with which the tall spars rose towards the heavens, from the black mass of the hull, and with the rigging that hung in the air, one dark line crossing another, until all design seemed confounded in the confusion and intricacy of the studied maze. But to Wilder these familiar objects furnished no immediate attraction. His first rapid glance had, like that of all seamen, it is true, been thrown upward, but it was instantly succeeded by the brief, though keen, examination to which we have just alluded. With the exception of one who, though his form was muffled in a large sea-cloak, seemed to be an officer, not a living creature was to be seen on the decks. On either side there was a dark, frowning battery, arranged in the beautiful and imposing order of marine architecture; but nowhere could he find a trace of the crowd of human beings which usually throng the deck of an armed ship, or that was necessary to render the engines effective. It might be that her people were in their hammocks, as usual at that hour, but still it was customary to leave a sufficient number on the watch, to look to the safety of the vessel. Finding himself so unexpectedly confronted with a single individual, our adventurer began to be sensible of the awkwardness of his situation, and of the necessity of some explanation.