A PLEASANT DINNER-PARTY AT SEA
The Blanche was on the starboard beam of the Guardian-Mother, or, in shore parlance, she was on the right-hand side of her as both ships sailed to the eastward. She chose her own position, and it varied considerably at different times, though it was generally about half a mile from her consort. At the present time she had come within less than a quarter of a mile, as the sea was quite smooth.
"Why, the Blanche is all dressed up as though she were going to a ball!" exclaimed Mrs. Belgrave, as the booming gun attracted the attention of the entire party.
"So she is," added the commander, as he observed her altered appearance for the first time; for he had been giving his whole attention to the lecture. "Captain Sharp is evidently getting up some sort of a frolic."
The first gun was followed by a second, and then by a third; and they continued till thirty-one of them had been discharged. Four pieces were evidently used, and they were fired with considerable rapidity, proving that the British tars who formed her ship's company had seen service in the navy.
"What does all that mean?" queried Captain Ringgold, as the party gathered about him for an explanation, though he was as much puzzled as any of them. "It is not a national salute, so far as I know, and I am utterly unable to say what it means."
But as soon as the firing ceased a signal number went up to the fore-peak. Bangs was the signal officer, and he had his book open as soon as he saw that it was needed.
"What is it, Bangs?" asked the commander at the window of the pilot-house.
"'Stop; I have something to communicate,'" replied the quartermaster.
"All right; give her one bell," added the commander.