The greatest alacrity followed these rapid orders. Archy of Anster was as active as if the one-eyed demon of his extraordinary yarn was after him: he hurried from poop to forecastle, growling, shouting, swearing and piping away between decks.
"Willie Wad—quick wi' your gun!" he cried; "or we'll serve ye wi' a stoup o' bilge in guid earnest."
The little blue flag, which, from time immemorial has been the signal for sailing, was run up to the foremast-head, where it fluttered in the wind; one of the starboard ports was triced up, and a great cannon-royale sent its report like thunder over the calm still flow of the shining river; and immediately a commotion was visible on board the Queen Margaret. The flag of Sir Alexander Mathieson was displayed from her mainmast-head, and the shrill whistle of her boatswain was heard, as he piped all hands on deck.
As to referring to either king or council, lord high chancellor or secretary of state, for orders to put to sea, such an idea never entered the head of stout Sir Andrew Wood; who sometimes was not over-particular, for it is recorded that once during a private quarrel with the Provost of Aberdeen, he sailed up the Don with the king's ships, and bombarded the granite city in a fashion which its citizens never forgot or forgave.
Falconer stood on the poop looking regretfully at the house of the Drummonds, with its large round towers, which were then almost washed by the river; but Barton was all life and animation; and with a celerity astonishing for an age when every species of mechanism was rude and in its infancy, the ships of war were got under way. The boatswain manned the windlass, and after a few hard tugs with the handspikes, they tripped the anchor and turned
——"The engine round,
At every turn the clanging pauls resound;
Uptorn reluctant from its oozy cave,
The ponderous anchor rises o'er the wave."
Its square stock appeared above the surface of the water, and then Barton seized his trumpet.
"Hard up with the helm, timoneer," he cried; "fill the head sails—on board with the foretack! haul out the spanker and set the spritsail. Forecastle there—cat and fish the anchor!"
"Quick, my lads!" added the boatswain; "yare, yare—mony hands mak licht wark."
"Sheet home," said the admiral, stamping his feet as he walked up and down the poop impatiently, and at every turn looked aloft; "sheet home! Barton, hoist the top-gallant sails! Gadzooks, but it is a brave breeze this! Archy of Anster, send your sharpest man to the crow's-nest as a look-out, and see that he kens a fleet of ships from a flock of gulls. By the whale of Jonas! I will give a hundred golden angels to the first man who discovers these English pirates!"