“Well, what are we going to do now, Paul?” asked True Blue. “Does the Captain intend to try and weather on the Frenchmen, and so get clear?”
“Wait a bit, Billy,” answered his godfather. “You’ll see presently. The Captain means to proceed to Guernsey, and to Guernsey, it’s my opinion, we shall go, in spite of all the Frenchmen may do to try and prevent us.”
On stood the gallant Ruby. The two frigates and brig were passed; then came one of the big ships, then the other. The Eurydice was now close in with the harbour and safe. The Druid was so near that, unless becalmed, there appeared no doubt about her getting in.
“Now, my lads,” cried Captain Garland, “be sharp in all you do!”
The helm was put up, the yards were squared, and on she stood towards a collection of rocky islands, islets, and shoals, apparently to destruction. The never-quiet ocean was sending dense masses of spray and foam over the rocks. The old pilot stood calm by the Captain’s side. The Frenchmen, who had concentrated all their attention on the Ruby and let the other two ships escape, now bore up after them.
On she stood under all sail towards the rocks. The old pilot took his stand in the weather-rigging. The helmsman’s eye was upon him, ready to answer each wave of his hand, or deep-toned sound of his voice. The guns were deserted, and all the crew stood by either the tacks or sheets or braces, or crowded the tops aloft, ready with all possible rapidity to make any alteration in the sails which a shift of wind or change of course might require.
Still the enemy kept firing at the frigate, but their shot fell either altogether short or wide of their mark. The wind increased—the frigate flew on. On either side of her there appeared white foaming seas, dancing up fantastically and wildly, without apparent cause, but which the seamen well knew betokened rocks and shoals. They were aware that they were among the most dangerous reefs on that rock-bound coast.
No one in the ship had ever been there except the curious old pilot. There he stood, as cool and collected as if the ship were sailing in the open sea, with a gentle breeze filling her canvas. The Captain stood near the pilot, and they all knew that they could trust him, and so were content if he trusted the old Guernsey man.
“He knows what he’s about,” observed Paul Pringle to his godson, looking at the pilot. “Mind, Billy, that’s what you must always do. Never attempt to do what you don’t know how to do; but then what I say is, set to work and learn to do all sorts of things. Never throw a chance away. Note all the landmarks as we go along now, and whenever you go into a harbour mark them in the same way.”
“Ay, ay, Paul,” answered Billy; “I’ll do my best.”