Chapter Twenty Three.
What had befallen the “Osterley”—Had been taken by the Enemy and carried into Port—Passengers kept Prisoners on the Island.
When the “Osterley” left Calcutta she stood across the Bay of Bengal, and there appeared to be every prospect of a favourable commencement of the voyage. She had a good many passengers, but not so many as she would have had, probably, had she been going home direct. They were chiefly married ladies, accompanying their children; or civilians, or military men returning after many years’ service; or invalids, hoping to regain their health in the land of their birth.
Altogether, Miss Armytage did not expect to find much to interest her among the companions of her voyage, as they, one after the other, made their appearance on the poop-deck of the Indiaman, on which she was seated. It is possible that, while the pilot vessel continued in sight, she might have taken an occasional glance to ascertain how the little vessel was performing her voyage, and afterwards it is certain that she was lost in a reverie, from which she was not aroused till her mother had several times addressed her with the inquiry whether she was not excessively hungry, and would go down and get ready for dinner. Mrs Armytage was a very good-natured woman, and not destitute of sense, but she had no romance in her composition. She was a great contrast to her unhappy sister, Hilda.
Edda aroused herself. “Yes, mamma; if it is necessary to appear at dinner, I will go down with you.”
“Of course, dear; and here is Captain Winslow coming to offer you his arm.”
However, he offered it to Mrs Armytage herself, and with his most polite of bows, begged that they would take their seats near him at table. Captain Winslow was courteous to all his passengers, but he certainly paid more attention to the Armytage party than to all the rest.
After dinner, most of the passengers were collected on the poop, watching two vessels which appeared in the distance. One was evidently a native craft, a Dhow or Pattarmar, from her high stern, curiously-projecting bow, and lofty lateen sail. She had apparently communicated with the other stranger, which was a ship of some size, and was now working in towards the land.
The ship engrossed the chief attention of the passengers. She was a flush-decked vessel or corvette—large for that class of craft, with very square yards. Miss Armytage hoped that her mother would not overhear the observations which the appearance of the strange sail called forth. She was looked upon by all as a very suspicious craft. Under what flag she sailed was a question, but it was very evident that she was a man-of-war, a privateer, or a pirate. She was an armed vessel—she was not a British man-of-war—she might be an English privateer, but she had the look of a foreigner.