At this instant, Sir Gervaise came out of his state-room, his coat in his hand, and with a countenance that was thoughtful. He finished dressing with an abstracted air, and would not have known the last garment was on, had not Galleygo given a violent pull on its skirts, in order to smooth the cloth about the shoulders.
"It is odd, that Bluewater should come down nearly before the wind, in a line ahead, and not in a line abreast!" Sir Gervaise rejoined, as his steward did this office for him.
"Let Admiral Blue alone, for doing what's right," put in Galleygo, in his usual confident and sell-possessed manner. "By keeping his ships astern of hisself, he can tell where to find 'em, and we understands from experience, if Admiral Blue knows where to find a ship, he knows how to use her."
Instead of rebuking this interference, which went a little further than common, Greenly was surprised to see the vice-admiral look his steward intently in the face, as if the man had expressed some shrewd and comprehensive truth. Then turning to his captain, Sir Gervaise intimated an intention of going on deck to survey the state of things with his own eyes.
CHAPTER XXVII.
"Thou shouldst have died, O high-soul'd chief!
In those bright days of glory fled,
When triumph so prevailed o'er grief,
We scarce would mourn the dead."
Mrs. Hemans.
The eventful day opened with most of the glories of a summer's morning. The wind alone prevented it from being one of the finest sun-risings of July. That continued fresh, at north-west, and, consequently, cool for the season. The seas of the south-west gale had entirely subsided, and were already succeeded by the regular but comparatively trilling swell of the new breeze. For large ships, it might be called smooth water; though the Driver and Active showed by their pitching and unsteadiness, and even the two-deckers, by their waving masts, that the unquiet ocean was yet in motion. The wind seemed likely to stand, and was what seamen would be apt to call a good six-knot breeze.
To leeward, still distant about a league, lay the French vessels, drawn up in beautiful array, and in an order so close, and a line so regular, as to induce the belief that M. de Vervillin had made his dispositions to receive the expected attack, in his present position. All his main-top-sails lay flat aback; the top-gallant-sails were flying loose, but with buntlings and clew-lines hauled up; the jibs were fluttering to leeward of their booms, and the courses were hanging in festoons beneath their yards. This was gallant fighting-canvass, and it excited the admiration of even his enemies. To increase this feeling, just as Sir Gervaise's foot reached the poop, the whole French line displayed their ensigns, and le Foudroyant fired a gun to windward.