Then the ladies retired, while I, lying in a hammock slung under the crowded fo'c'sle, dreamed of Constance and Winifred, till I was awakened by the violent ringing of the ship's bell and the hoarse order, "Put your helm up, or we'll be run down!"
CHAPTER XXXIII
Safe in Port
'Twas a strange sight that met my eyes as I rushed on deck and gained the fo'c'sle.
The wind had fallen light, and in the cold, raw gloom of that November morning I could see ahead and on both sides of us a multitude of great warships.
They were sailing in close order, under all plain sail, and had just gone about on the starboard tack, for their crews were still engaged with the halyards and braces, in obedience to orders shouted in a foreign tongue.
This manoeuvre had thrown us fairly across their line, so that only by putting our helm hard up were we able to avoid being run down by a huge two-decker.
In the comparatively small limit of my vision, for the weather was thick, I counted over forty sail, though, judging by the sounds, there must have been twice that number hidden in the mist.
We scraped past the two-decker at barely ten yards' distance. She was high-sided, and painted with one broad yellow and two narrow brown stripes; while through her green-lined ports the muzzles of some thirty-two brass guns flashed dully in the moist atmosphere.
Her decks were crowded with men, for in addition to her crew there were about a hundred phlegmatic-looking soldiers, in blue-and-yellow uniforms. On her poop stood a burly great-coated officer, who raised his speaking-trumpet with the evident intention of hailing us; but apparently he thought better of it, and in almost perfect silence, save for the hiss of the water at her cutwater and the straining and creaking of her tackle, the ship glided past. Then, as she displayed her lofty stern, with its wreath of decorative giltwork, I read the name Maese.