Homeward Bound; Or, the Chase Part 59

"Were we an enemy, and a match for that sloop," said Paul, "this smooth water and yard-arm att.i.tude would make quick work."

"Her captain is in the gangway, taking our measure," observed Mr. Truck: "here is the gla.s.s; I wish you to examine his face, and tell me if you think him a man with whom the law of nations will avail anything. See the anchor clear, Mr. Leach, for I'm determined to bring up all standing, if the gentleman intends to renew the old tricks of John Bull on our coast.

What do you make of him, Mr. Blunt?"

Paul did not answer, but laying down the gla.s.s, he paced the deck rapidly with the manner of one much disturbed. All observed this sudden change, though no one presumed to comment on it. In the mean time the sloop-of-war came up fast, and in a few minutes her larboard fore-yard-arm was within twenty feet of the starboard main-yard-arm of the Montauk, the two vessels running on parallel lines. The corvette now hauled up her fore-course, and let her top-gallant sails settle on the caps, though a dead silence reigned in her.

"Give me the trumpet," said Captain Truck, stepping to the rail; "the gentleman is about to give us a piece of his mind."

The English captain, who was easily known by his two epaulettes, also held a trumpet; but neither of the two commanders used his instrument, the distance being sufficiently near for the natural voice,

"I believe, sir," commenced the man-of-war's-man, "that I have the pleasure to see Captain Truck, of the Montauk, London packet?"

"Ay, ay; I'll warrant you he has my name alongside of John Doe and Richard Roe," muttered Mr. Truck, "spell as carefully as it could be in a primer.--I am Captain Truck, and this is the Montauk. May I ask the name of your vessel, and your own, sir?"

"This is his Britannic Majesty's ship, the Foam, Captain Ducie."

"The Honourable Captain Ducie!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "I thought I recognised the voice: I know him intimately well."

"Will he stand Vattel?" anxiously demanded Mr. Truck.

"Nay, as for that, I must refer you to himself."

"You appear to have suffered in the gale," resumed Captain Ducie, whose smile was very visible, as he thus addressed them like an old acquaintance. "We fared better ourselves, for I believe we did not part a ropeyarn."

"The ship pitched every stick out of her," returned Captain Truck, "and has given us the trouble of a new outfit."

"In which you appear to have succeeded admirably. Your spars and sails are a size or two too small; but every thing stands like a church."

"Ay, ay, now we have got on our new clothes, we are not ashamed to be seen."

"May I ask if you have been in port to do all this?"

"No, sir; picked them up along-sh.o.r.e."

The Honourable Captain Ducie thought he was quizzed, and his manner became a little more cold, though it still retained its gentlemanlike tone.

"I wish much to see you in private, sir, on an affair of some magnitude, and I greatly regret it was not in my power to speak you the night you left Portsmouth. I am quite aware you are in your own waters, and I feel a strong reluctance to retain your pa.s.sengers when so near their port; but I shall feel it as a particular favour if you will permit me to repair on board for a few minutes."

"With all my heart," cried Captain Truck: "if you will give me room, I will back my main-topsail, but I wish to lay my head off sh.o.r.e. This gentleman understands Vattel, and we shall have no trouble with him. Keep the anchor clear Mr. Leach, for 'fair words b.u.t.ter no parsnips.' Still, he is a gentleman;--and, Saunders, put a bottle of the old Madeira on the cabin table."

Captain Ducie now left the rigging in which he had stood, and the corvette luffed off to the eastward, to give room to the packet, where she hove-to with her fore-topsail aback. The Montauk followed, taking a position under her lee. A quarter-boat was lowered, and in five minutes its oars were tossed at the packet's lee-gangway, when the commander of the corvette ascended the ship's side, followed by a middle-aged man in the dress of a civilian, and a chubby-faced midshipman.

No one could mistake Captain Ducie for anything but a gentleman. He was handsome, well-formed, and about five-and-twenty. The bow he made to Eve, with whose beauty and air he seemed instantly struck, would have become a drawing-room; but he was too much of an officer to permit any further attention to escape him until he had paid his respects to, and received the compliments of, Captain Truck. He then turned to the ladies and Mr.

Effingham, and repeated his salutations.

"I fear," he said, "my duty has made me the unwilling instrument of prolonging your pa.s.sage, for I believe few ladies love the ocean sufficiently, easily to forgive those who lengthen its disagreeables."

"We are old travellers, and know how to allow for the obligations of duty," Mr. Effingham civilly answered.

"That they do, sir," put in Captain Truck; "and it was never my good fortune to have a more agreeable set of pa.s.sengers. Mr. Effingham, the Honourable Captain Ducie;--the Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr.

Effingham;--Mr. John Effingham, Mam'selle V.A.V." endeavouring always to imitate Eve's p.r.o.nunciation of the name;--"Mr. Dodge, the Honourable Captain Ducie; the Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr. Dodge."

The Honourable Captain Ducie and all the others, the editor of the Active Inquirer excepted, smiled slightly, though they respectively bowed and curtseyed; but Mr. Dodge, who conceived himself ent.i.tled to be formally introduced to every one he met, and to know all he saw, whether introduced or not, stepped forward promptly, and shook Mr. Ducie very cordially by the hand.

Captain Truck now turned in quest of some one else to introduce; Mr.

Sharp stood near the capstan, and Paul had retired as far aft as the hurricane-house.

"I am happy to see you in the Montauk," added Captain Truck, insensibly leading the other towards the capstan, "and am sorry I had not the satisfaction of meeting you in England. The Honourable Captain Ducie, Mr.

Sharp, Mr. Sharp, the Honourable Captain--"

"George Templemore!" exclaimed the commander of the corvette, looking from one to the other.

"Charles Ducie!" exclaimed the _soi-disant_ Mr. Sharp.

"Here then is an end of part of my hopes, and we have been on a wrong scent the whole time."

"Perhaps not, Ducie: explain yourself."

"You must have perceived my endeavours to speak you, from the moment you sailed?"

"To _speak_ us!" cried Captain Truck. "Yes, sir, we _did_ observe your endeavours to _speak_ us."

"It was because I was given to understand that one _calling_ himself Sir George Templemore, an impostor, however, had taken pa.s.sage in this ship; and here I find that we have been misled, by the real Sir George Templemore's having chosen to come this way instead of coming by the Liverpool ship. So much for your confounded fashionable caprices, Templemore, which never lets you know in the morning whether you are to shoot yourself or to get married before night."

"And is this gentleman Sir George Templemore?" pithily demanded Captain Truck.

"For that I can vouch, on the knowledge of my whole life."

"And we know this to be true, and have known it since the day we sailed,"

observed Mr. Effingham.

Captain Truck was accustomed to pa.s.sengers under false names, but never before had he been so completely mystified.

"And pray, sir," he inquired of the baronet, "are you a member of Parliament?"

"I have that honour."

"And Templemore Hall is your residence, and you have come out to look at the Canadas?"

"I am the owner of Templemore Hall, and hope to look at the Canadas before I return."

"And," turning to Captain Ducie, "you sailed in quest of another Sir George Templemore--a false one?"

"That is a part of my errand," returned Captain Ducie, smiling.

"Nothing else?--you are certain, sir, that this is the whole of your errand?"

"I confess to another motive," rejoined the other, scarce knowing how to take Captain Truck's question; "but this one will suffice for the present, I hope."