The King's Own Part 9

The cutter had not been left a mile astern before the breeze freshened, and the fog began rapidly to disperse; and Phillips, who continued at the conn, perceived, through the haze, a large vessel bearing down towards them.

"High time that we were off; indeed, captain; for there's a cruiser, if I mistake not. A gun here is the same to the cruiser, as a splash in the water is to the ground sharks at Antigua; up they all come to see what's to be had. We shall have a dozen of them above the horizon before two hours are above our heads."

McElvina, who had his gla.s.s fixed upon the vessel, soon made her out to be a frigate, coming down under a press of sail, attracted, as Phillips had remarked, by the reports of the guns. What made the affair more serious was, that she was evidently bringing down a strong breeze, which the lugger, although steering large, had not yet obtained. Moreover, the fog had dispersed in all directions, and the frigate neared them fast.

"Blast the cutter!" said the first-mate: "we shall pay dearly for our 'lark'."

"This is confoundedly unlucky," replied McElvina; "she brings the wind down with her, and won't part with a breath of it. However 'faint heart never won fair lady.' Keep her away two points more. Clap everything on her. We'll _weather_ her yet."

The breeze that ran along the water in advance of the frigate now began to be felt by the lugger, who again dashed the foaming water from her bows, as she darted through the wave; but it was a point of sailing at which a frigate has always an advantage over a small vessel; and McElvina having gradually edged away, so as to bring the three masts of his pursuer apparently into one, perceived that the frigate was rapidly closing with him.

The crew of the lugger, who had been all merriment at the successful termination of the late combat (for not one man had been killed or severely wounded), now paced the deck, or looked over the bulwark with serious and foreboding aspects; the foreigners, particularly, began to curse their fate, and considered their voyage and antic.i.p.ated profits at an end. McElvina, perceiving their discontent, ordered the men aft, and addressed them:--

"My lads, I have often been in a worse sc.r.a.pe, and have weathered it; nor do I know but what we may yet manage to get out of this, if you will pay strict attention to my orders, and behave in that cool and brave manner which I have reason to expect from you. Much, if not all, depends upon whether the captain of that frigate is a '_new hand_' or not: if he is an old channel groper, we shall have some difficulty; but, however, we will try for it, and if we do not succeed, at least we shall have the satisfaction of knowing, that we did our best both for ourselves and our employers."

McElvina then proceeded to explain to his crew the manoeuvre that he intended to practise, to obtain the weather-gage of the frigate, upon which their only chance of escape would depend, and the men returned to their stations, if not contented, at least with increased confidence in their captain, and strong hopes of success.

As the day closed, the frigate was within a mile of the lugger, and coming up with him hand over hand. The breeze was strong, and the water was no longer in ripples, but curled over in short waves to the influence of the blast. The frigate yawed a little--the smoke from her bow-chaser was followed by an instantaneous report, and the shot dashed into the water close under the stern of the lugger. "Sit down under the bulwarks; sit down, my lads, and keep all fast," said McElvina. "He'll soon be tired of that; he has lost more than a cable's length already."

McElvina was correct in his supposition; the commander of the frigate perceived that he had lost too much ground by deviating from his course, and the evening was closing in. He fired no more. Both vessels continued their course--the smuggler particularly attentive in keeping the three masts of her pursuer in one, to prevent her from firing into her, or to oblige her to drop astern if she did.

Half an hour more, and as the sun's lower limb touched the horizon, the frigate was within musket-shot of the lugger, and the marines, who had been ordered forward, commenced a heavy fire upon her, to induce her to lower her sails and surrender; but in vain. By the directions of their captain, the men sheltered themselves under the bulwarks, and the vessel continued her course, with all her sails expanded to the breeze.

A few minutes more and she was right under the bows of the frigate, who now prepared to round-to, and pour a broadside into her for her temerity. McElvina watched their motions attentively, and as the frigate yawed-to with all her sails set, he gave the order to lower away; and the sails of the lugger were in an instant down on the deck, in token of submission.

"Helm hard a-lee, now--keep a little bit of the mizen up, Phillips--they won't observe it."

"Marines, cease firing-hands, shorten sail, and clear away the first cutter," were the orders given on board the frigate, and distinctly heard by the smugglers; but the heavy press of sail that the frigate was obliged to carry to come up with the chase, was not so soon to be reduced as that of a small vessel--and, as she rounded-to with studding-sails below and aloft, she shot past the lugger, and left her on her quarter.

"Now's your time, my men. Hoist away the jib-sheet to windward." The lugger payed off as the wind caught the sail. "All's right. Up with the lugs."

The order was obeyed as an order generally is by men working for their escape from what they most dreaded, poverty and imprisonment; and, before the frigate could reduce her sails, which were more than she could carry on a wind, the lugger had shot away on her weather quarter, and was a quarter of a mile in advance. The frigate tacked after her, firing gun after gun, but without success. Fortune favoured McElvina; and the shades of night soon hid the lugger from the sight of her irritated and disappointed pursuers. A long career was before _La Belle Susanne_: she was not to be taken that time.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A fisherman he had been in his youth; But other speculations were, in sooth, Added to his connection with the sea, Perhaps not so respectable, in truth, ...

He had an only daughter.

DON JUAN.

Not possessing a prompter's whistle, we must use, as a subst.i.tute, the boatswain's call, and, at his shrill pipe, we change the scene to a back parlour in one of the most confined streets at the east end of England's proud and wealthy metropolis. The _dramatis personae_ are an elderly and corpulent personage, with as little of fas.h.i.+on in his appearance as in his residence; and a young female of about twenty years of age, with expressive and beautiful features, but wanting "the damask on the cheek," the true value of which the fair s.e.x so well appreciate, that, if not indebted for it to nature, they are too apt to resort to art for an unworthy imitation.

The first-mentioned of these two personages was busy examining, through his spectacles, some papers which lay on the table before him-- occasionally diverted from his task by the pertinacity of some flies, which seemed to have taken a particular fancy to his bald forehead and scalp, which, in spite of his constant brus.h.i.+ng off, they thought proper to consider as a pleasant and smooth sort of coursing-plain, placed there (probably in their ideas) solely for their amus.e.m.e.nt. Part of a decanter of wine, and the remains of a dessert, crowded the small table at which he sat, and added to the general air of confinement which pervaded the whole.

"It's very hot, my dear. Open the window, and let us have a little air."

"Oh, father," replied the young woman, who rose to throw up the sash, "you don't know how I pine for fresh air. How long do you intend to continue this life of constant toil and privation?"

"How long, my dear? Why, I presume you do not wish to starve--you would not be very well pleased if, when you applied for money, as you do, every week _at least_, I were to tell you that the bag was empty."

"Oh, nonsense--I know better, father; don't think so poorly of me as to attempt to deceive me in that way."

"And pray, Miss Susan, what do you know?" said the old gentleman, looking up at her through his spectacles, as she stood by the side of his chair.

"I know what you have taught me, sir. Do you recollect explaining to me the nature of the funds--what was the meaning of the national debt--all the varieties of stock, and what interest they all bore?"

"Well, and what then?"

"Why, then, father, I have often seen the amounts of the dividends which you have received every half-year, and have heard your orders to Wilmott to re-invest in the funds. Now, your last half-year's dividend in the Three per Cents was--let me see--oh--841 pounds, 14 s.h.i.+llings, 6 pence, which, you know, doubled, makes itself an income of--"

"And pray, Miss Susan, what business have you with all this?" retorted her father, half pleased, half angry.

"Why, father, you taught me yourself; and thought me very stupid because I did not comprehend it as soon as you expected," answered Susan, leaning over and kissing him; "and now you ask me what business I have to know it."

"Well, well, girl, it's very true," said the old man, smiling, "but allowing that you are correct, what then?"

"Why then, father, don't be angry if I say that it appears to me that you have more money now than you can spend while you live, or know to whom to leave when you die. What, then, is the use of confining yourself in a dirty, narrow street, and toiling all day for no earthly advantage?"

"But how do you know that I have n.o.body to leave my money to, Susan?"

"Have you not repeatedly said that you have no relations or kin, that you are aware of; except me; that you were once a sailor before the mast--an orphan, bound apprentice by the parish? Whom, then, have you except _me_?--and if you continue here much longer, father, I feel convinced that you will not have me--you will have no one. If you knew how tired I am of looking out at this horrid brick wall--how I long for the country, to be running among the violets and primroses--how I pine for relief from this little dungeon. Oh! what would I give to be flying before the breeze in the lugger with McElvina!"

"Indeed, Miss!" replied old Hornblow, whom the reader may recognise as the patron of our smuggling captain.

"Well, father, there's no harm in saying so. I want freedom. I feel as if I could not be too free; I should like to be blown about in a balloon. Oh, why don't you give up business, go down to the sea-side, take a pretty little cottage, and make yourself and me happy? I fancy the sea-breeze is blowing in my face, and all my ringlets out of curl.

I shall die if I stay here much longer--I shall indeed, father."

Repeated attacks of this nature had already sapped the foundation; and a lovely and only daughter had the influence over her father's heart, to which she was ent.i.tled.

"Well, well, Susan, let McElvina wind up the accounts of this vessel, and then I will do as you wish; but I cannot turn him adrift, you know."

"Turn Captain McElvina adrift! No--if you did, father--"

"I presume that you would be very much inclined to take him in tow--eh, Miss?"

"I shall never act without attending to your advice, and consulting your wishes, my dear father," answered Susan, the suffusion of her unusually pale cheeks proving that she required but colour to be perfectly beautiful.

And here the conversation dropped. Old Hornblow had long perceived the growing attachment between his daughter and McElvina; and the faithful and valuable services of the latter, added to the high opinion which the old man had of his honesty--which, to do McElvina justice, had been most scrupulous--had determined him to let things take their own course.

Indeed, there was no one with whom old Hornblow was acquainted to whom he would have entrusted his daughter's happiness with so much confidence as to our reformed captain.

A sharp double tap at the street door announced the post, and in a few minutes after this conversation the clerk appeared with a letter for old Hornblow, who, pursuant to the prudent custom of those days, had his counting-house on the ground floor of his own residence, which enabled him to go to his dinner, and return to his business in the evening.

Nowadays we are all above our business, and live above our means (which is in itself sufficient to account for the general distress that is complained of); and the counting-house is deserted before dusk, that we may arrive at our residences in Russell-square, or the Regent's-park, in time to dress for a turtle dinner at six o'clock, instead of a mutton chop, or single joint, _en famille_, at two.

But to return. Old Hornblow put on his spectacles (which were on the table since they had been removed from his nose by Susan when she kissed him), and examined the post-mark, seal, and superscription, as if he wished to tax his ingenuity with a guess previously to opening the letter, which would have saved him all that trouble, and have decided the point of scrutiny--viz., from whom it came?

"McElvina, I rather think," said he, musing; "but the postmark is Plymouth. How the deuce--!" The two first lines of the letter were read, and the old man's countenance fell. Susan, who had been all alive at the mention of McElvina's name, perceived the alteration in her father's looks.

"No bad news, I hope, my dear father?"