The commander of the Coquette pointed to the object which attracted his gaze, and which, appearing as it did at that moment, was certainly not of a nature to lessen the faith of either of his companions in supernatural agencies.
It has been said that the wind was dry and the air misty, or rather so pregnant with a thin haze, as to give it the appearance of a dull, smoky light. In such a state of the weather, the eye, more especially of one placed on an elevation, is unable to distinguish what is termed the visible horizon at sea. The two elements become so blended, that our organs cannot tell where the water ends, or where the void of the heavens commences. It is a consequence of this in distinctness, that any object seen beyond the apparent boundary of water, has the appearance of floating in the air. It is rare for the organs of a landsman to penetrate beyond the apparent limits of the sea, when the atmosphere exhibits this peculiarity, though the practised eye of a mariner often detects vessels, which are hid from others, merely because they are not sought in the proper place. The deception may also be aided by a slight degree of refraction.
“Here;” said Ludlow, pointing in a line that would have struck the water some two or three leagues in the offing. “First bring the chimney of yonder low building on the plain, in a range with the dead oak on the shore, and then raise your eyes slowly, till they strike a sail.”
“That ship is navigating the heavens!” exclaimed Myndert! “Thy grandmother was a sensible woman, Patroon; she was a cousin of my pious progenitor, and there is no knowing what two clever old ladies, in their time, may have heard and seen, when such sights as this are beheld in our own!”
“I am as little disposed as another, to put faith in incredible things,” gravely returned Oloff Van Staats; “and yet, if required to give my testimony, I should be reluctant to say, that yonder vessel is not floating in the heavens!”
“You might not give it to that effect, in safety;” said Ludlow. “It is no other than a half-rigged brigantine, on a taut bowline, though she bears no great show of canvas. Mr. Van Beverout, Her Majesty’s cruiser is about to put to sea.”
Myndert heard this declaration in visible dissatisfaction. He spoke of the virtue of patience, and of the comforts of the solid ground; but when he found the intention of the Queen’s servant was not to be shaken, he reluctantly professed an intention of repeating the personal experiment of the preceding day. Accordingly, within half an hour, the whole party were on the banks of the Shrewsbury, and about to embark in the barge of the Coquette.
“Adieu, Monsieur François;” said the Alderman nodding his head to the ancient valet, who stood with a disconsolate eye on the shore. “Have a care of the movables in la Cour des Fées; we may have further use for them.”
“Mais, Monsieur Beevre, mon devoir, et, ma foi, suppose la mèr was plus agréable, mon désir shall be to suivre Mam’selle Alide. Jamais personne de la famille Barbérie love de sea; mais, Monsieur, comment faire? I shall die sur la mèr de douleur; and I shall die d’ennui, to rester ici, bien sûr!”
“Come then, faithful François,” said Ludlow. “You shall follow your young mistress; and perhaps, on further trial, you may be disposed to think the lives of us seamen more tolerable than you had believed.”