Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters Part 63

"_Merci bien, monsieur le capitaine; bon voyage!_" Jeannette held her finger up to Corbett, saying, with a smile, "_mechant!_" and then quitted the room.

"Come, Morrison, help us to empty this bottle, and then we will all go on board."

"I wish that girl wouldn't come here with her nonsensical dreams," said Morrison, taking his seat; "I don't like it. When she said that we should be taken by a revenue cutter, I was looking at a blue and a white pigeon sitting on the wall opposite; and I said to myself, now, if that be a warning, I will see: if the _blue_ pigeon flies away first, I shall be in jail in a week; if the _white,_ I shall be back here."

"Well?" said Pickersgill, laughing.

"It wasn't well," answered Morrison, tossing off his wine, and putting the gla.s.s down with a deep sigh; "for the cursed _blue_ pigeon flew away immediately."

"Why, Morrison, you must have a chicken-heart to be frightened at a blue pigeon," said Corbett, laughing, and looking out of the window; "at all events, he has come back again, and there he is sitting by the white one."

"It's the first time that ever I was called chicken-hearted," replied Morrison, in wrath.

"Nor do you deserve it, Morrison," replied Pickersgill; "but Corbett is only joking."

"Well, at all events, I'll try my luck in the same way, and see whether I am to be in jail: I shall take the blue pigeon as my bad omen, as you did."

The sailors and Captain Pickersgill all rose and went to the window, to ascertain Corbett's fortune by this new species of augury. The blue pigeon flapped his wings, and then he sidled up to the white one; at last, the white pigeon flew off the wall and settled on the roof of the adjacent house. "Bravo, white pigeon!" said Corbett; "I shall be here again in a week." The whole party, laughing, then resumed their seats; and Morrison's countenance brightened up. As he took the gla.s.s of wine poured out by Pickersgill, he said, "Here's your health, Corbett; it was all nonsense, after all--for, d'ye see, I can't be put in jail without you are. We all sail in the same boat, and when you leave me, you take with you everything that can condemn the vessel--so here's success to our trip."

"We will all drink that toast, my lads, and then on board," said the captain; "here's success to our trip."

The captain rose, as did the mates and men, drank the toast, turned down the drinking-vessels on the table, hastened to the wharf, and, in half an hour, the _Happy-go-lucky_ was clear of the port of St Maloes.

Chapter IV

PORTLAND BILL

The _Happy-go-lucky_ sailed with a fresh breeze and a flowing sheet from St Maloes, the evening before the _Arrow_ sailed from Barn Pool. The _Active_ sailed from Portsmouth the morning after.

The yacht, as we before observed, was bound to Cowes, in the Isle of Wight. The _Active_ had orders to cruise wherever she pleased within the limits of the admiral's station; and she ran for West Bay, on the other side of the Bill of Portland. The _Happy-go-lucky_ was also bound for that bay to land her cargo.

The wind was light, and there was every appearance of fine weather, when the _Happy-go-lucky_, at ten o'clock on the Tuesday night, made the Portland lights; as it was impossible to run her cargo that night, she hove to.

At eleven o'clock, the Portland lights were made by the revenue cutter _Active_. Mr Appleboy went up to have a look at them, ordered the cutter to be hove to, and then went down to finish his allowance of gin-toddy.

At twelve o'clock, the yacht _Arrow_ made the Portland lights, and continued her course, hardly stemming the ebb tide.

Day broke, and the horizon was clear. The first on the look-out were, of course, the smugglers; they, and those on board the revenue cutter, were the only two interested parties--the yacht was neuter.

"There are two cutters in sight, sir," said Corbett, who had the watch; for Pickersgill, having been up the whole night, had thrown himself down on the bed with his clothes on.

"What do they look like?" said Pickersgill, who was up in a moment.

"One is a yacht, and the other may be; but I rather think, as far as I can judge in the gray, that it is our old friend off here."

"What! old Appleboy?"

"Yes, it looks like him; but the day has scarcely broke yet."

"Well, he can do nothing in a light wind like this; and before the wind we can show him our heels; but are you sure the other is a yacht?" said Pickersgill, coming on deck.

"Yes; the king is more careful of his canvas."

"You're right," said Pickersgill, "that is a yacht; and you're right there again in your guess--that is the stupid old _Active_, which creeps about creeping for tubs. Well, I see nothing to alarm us at present, provided it don't fall a dead calm, and then we must take to our boat as soon as he takes to his; we are four miles from him at least. Watch his motions, Corbett, and see if he lowers a boat. What does she go now?

Four knots?--that will soon tire their men."

The positions of the three cutters were as follows:--

The _Happy-go-lucky_ was about four miles off Portland Head, and well into West Bay. The revenue cutter was close to the Head. The yacht was outside of the smuggler, about two miles to the westward, and about five or six miles from the revenue cutter.

"Two vessels in sight, sir," said Mr Smith, coming down into the cabin to Mr Appleboy.

"Very well," replied the lieutenant, who was _lying_ down in his _standing_ bed-place.

"The people say one is the _Happy-go-lucky,_ sir," drawled Smith.

"Heh? what! _Happy-go-lucky?_ Yes, I recollect; I've boarded her twenty times--always empty. How's she standing?"

"She stands to the westward now, sir; but she was hove to, they say, when they first saw her."

"Then she has a cargo in her;" and Mr Appleboy shaved himself, dressed, and went on deck.

"Yes," said the lieutenant, rubbing his eyes again and again, and then looking through the gla.s.s, "it is her sure enough. Let draw the fore sheet--hands make sail. What vessel's the other?"

"Don't know, sir,--she's a cutter."

"A cutter? yes; may be a yacht, or may be the new cutter ordered on the station. Make all sail, Mr Tomkins; hoist our pendant, and fire a gun-- they will understand what we mean then; they don't know the _Happy-go-lucky_ as well as we do."

In a few minutes the _Active_ was under a press of sail; she hoisted her pendant, and fired a gun. The smuggler perceived that the _Active_ had recognised her, and she also threw out more canvas, and ran off more to the westward.

"There's a gun, sir," reported one of the men to Mr Stewart, on board of the yacht.

"Yes; give me the gla.s.s--a revenue cutter; then this vessel in sh.o.r.e, running towards us, must be a smuggler."

"She has just now made all sail, sir."

"Yes, there's no doubt of it; I will go down to his lords.h.i.+p--keep her as she goes."

Mr Stewart then went down to inform Lord B. of the circ.u.mstance. Not only Lord B., but most of the gentlemen came on deck; as did soon afterwards the ladies, who had received the intelligence from Lord B., who spoke to them through the door of the cabin.

But the smuggler had more wind than the revenue cutter, and increased her distance.

"If we were to wear round now, my lord," observed Mr Stewart, "she is just abreast of us and in sh.o.r.e, we could prevent her escape."

"Round with her, Mr Stewart," said Lord B.; "we must do our duty, and protect the laws."