"Very well," said Lanyard again—"but the shine that makes her invisible to us will indicate our whereabouts surely enough to her, for it is glancing directly on our white sails."
I had in my time learned a bucaniering trick or two.—"How thought you she was standing when you saw her last—when you was busy with the commodore's lights?" said I.
"Right down for us, sir."
"Then, Dick, my beauty, if you will take my advice, you will lower away the yard, and haul down the jib."
The suggestion was taken, and we were soon rocking on the dark billows, with our solitary mast naked as a blasted pine.
As I expected, to any one looking at us from windward, we must have become invisible, against the heavy bank of black clouds down to leeward; and, in corroboration of this, the strange vessel gradually emerged from out the silvery dazzle, and glided majestically down the glorious flow of bright moonlight, standing right for us, evidently unaware of our vicinity. She was not steered so steadily, but that I could perceive she was a ship, sailing dead before it with all sail set to woo the faint breeze; royals, sky-sails, and studding-sails aloft and alow. Presently it freshened a bit, and she took in her light and steering-sails—she was now about two miles from us.
The sight was beautiful; and while some of the people were keeping a bright look-out for the commodore down to leeward, the rest of the crew were gazing out to windward at the approaching vessel. I had at no time from the first thought she was a man-of-war, her sails and yards being by no means square enough; but if I had hesitated at all in the matter, the slow and awkward way in which she shortened sail, must have left no doubt of the fact on my mind.
"There—there again—what can that be?" said I involuntarily.
"Hillo," sung out several of the crew forward, "hear you that, messmate—hear you that?"
A low, still, most heavenly melody again floated down to us, but louder than before, and died meltingly away as the breeze fell, until it once more became inaudible. Since we had discarded the frigate from our thoughts, the ship to windward was now of course the only quarter from whence the sounds could proceed. I listened again—but all was still—presently the dark outlines of the sails of the approaching vessel became clearer. There was now a long pause, and you might have heard a pin drop on deck, when the solemn strain once more gushed forth high into the pure heavens. We all listened with the most intense attention. It was the hundredth Psalm—and I could now distinguish the blending of male and female voices in the choir—presently the sound sank again, and gradually died away altogether.