The Rival Crusoes

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“That depends on what may happen,” answered Ben. “We shall have to wait for a dark night, and to take care that the coast is clear before we run in. It may be to-morrow, or it may be a week hence. We have done very well as yet, but there’s many a slip between tin cup and the lip, as I have found to my cost more than once.”

Dick had to rest satisfied with this answer. There were plenty of people on board ready to talk to him, but their conversation was not of an improving character. Their chief delight seemed to be to abuse the royal navy as well as the revenue laws, and those engaged in preventing their infringement. Dick was not accustomed to look too deep into matters, and thought that what they said was very right. It did not occur to him that the same men would greatly have objected to free trade, which would completely have deprived them of their present illegal way of gaining a livelihood; and though there might have been some truth in what they said about the navy, they were wrong in the sweeping condemnation they pronounced against the service. There were some abuses still existing, but many had been removed; and there were not a few commanders of king’s ships who did their best to advance the welfare of their crews, and were at all times kind and considerate to those placed under them, as had been shown by numerous instances of devotion on the part of the men to their officers. The remarks of his associates, however, gave Dick an unmitigated horror of the navy, while he learned to look upon smugglers as a much-injured body of men, who were unjustly interfered with while engaged in endeavouring to gain their daily bread. At length, growing sleepy, he was glad to go below and lie down on one of the lockers in the little after cabin.

Next morning the lugger lay becalmed. While the breeze lasted, the smugglers had been in good humour, but as the watch below turned out, they swore and grumbled at finding their craft lying idle on the smooth surface of the ocean. No sail was in sight, and as long as the calm continued they could not come to harm; but an enemy might bring down a breeze which would enable her to get close up to them before their sails were filled. This was what they dreaded. All their seamanship and courage would not avail if she was a vessel too powerful for them to cope with.

Hour after hour passed away, and still the Nancy lay floating idly, and carried down Channel by the ebb tide, and swept up again by the flood. An anxious look-out was kept for signs of a coming breeze. Evening was approaching. From whatever quarter the wind might come, it might bring up an enemy. English or French were equally to be dreaded. The skipper paced the deck, making short turns, telescope in hand, every now and then sweeping the horizon with it, and casting an eye on the dog-vanes which hung unmoved by a breath of air. At last he kept his glass longer than usual turned to the eastward.

“There’s no doubt about it!” he exclaimed. “Those are the royals of a big ship of some sort; she’s got a fresh breeze, too, or we shouldn’t have risen them so fast above the horizon.”

Dick could only see a white spot on which the sun was shining, but it appeared to be increasing in size and growing higher and higher. The gaze of most of those on board were turned towards her. That she was either an English or a French cruiser was the general opinion. Some thought that she was a frigate, others a corvette; for no merchantman, at that period, would have come down Channel alone. One thing was certain, that she was steering directly for the lugger.

“What chance have we of escaping her?” asked Dick of Ben.

“Many a chance, lad,” answered his friend. “If she’s English she may not send a boat on board to examine us, and we shall pass for a privateer, or we may get the breeze in time to slip out of her way to the northward, or to keep ahead of her and give her the go-by during the night. If she’s French, we must put the Frenchman in command, show our French papers, and bamboozle the mounseers, or if the worst comes to the worst, tumble the crew of their boat overboard and try to get away.”

“But suppose they fire into us?” said Dick, who though often thoughtless was alive to the true state of the case.

“We must run the chance of that, my lad,” answered Ben, “though my idea is that yonder craft is an English corvette, and although she may be a pretty fast sailer, when once the Nancy gets the breeze, we shall show her a clean pair of heels.”