The Coming Wave Part 16

"Ahoy! Ahoy!" came a hoa.r.s.e voice, apparently pitched from the note of the fog-horn.

The skipper of the Rosabel judged that the craft was not more than an eighth of a mile from him.

"Ahoy! Ahoy!" he shouted in reply, at the top of his voice.

Leopold had hauled down his jib, and thrown the sloop up into the wind, in preparation for anchoring; but he concluded not to do so, in view of the peril of being run down by the stranger. On the contrary he hoisted his jib, and filled away again, so as to be in condition to avoid a collision. Resuming his place at the helm, he stood out towards the fog-hidden vessel. The hail was repeated again and again, and Leopold as often answered it. In a few moments more he discovered what appeared to him to be the jib of a schooner. Her bow was of shining black, with a richly gilded figure-head under the bowsprit. A moment later he discovered the two masts of the vessel. The mainsail was set, but the foresail was furled, and she was apparently feeling her way with great care into the bay. A sailor in uniform was heaving the lead near the fore rigging.

Leopold saw, as soon as he obtained a full view of the vessel, that she was a yacht of at least a hundred tons and as beautiful a craft as ever gladdened the heart of a sailor. There were a dozen men on her forecastle, and as the Rosabel approached her, a procession of gentlemen, closely m.u.f.fled in heavy garments and rubber coats, filed up the companion-way, doubtless attracted to the deck by the incident of hailing another craft.

"Schooner, ahoy!" shouted Leopold, as soon as he had made out the vessel.

"On board the sloop!" replied the voice which resembled the tones of the fog-horn.

"Where you bound?" demanded the skipper of the Rosabel.

"Belfast."

"You are a long way off your course, then," added Leopold, with emphasis.

"Will you come on board?" asked the speaker from the yacht.

"Ay, ay, sir, if you wish it," answered Leopold.

"Hard down the helm!" shouted the hoa.r.s.e voice, which we may as well say in advance of a nearer introduction, belonged to Captain Bounce, the sailing-master of the yacht.

"What schooner is that?" called Leopold, as the yacht came up into the wind.

"The yacht Orion, of New York," replied Captain Bounce.

The skipper of the Rosabel ran under the lee of the Orion, and came up into the wind all shaking. Leopold threw his painter to the uniformed seamen of the yacht, and then hauled down his jib.

"Where are we?" asked Captain Bounce, rather nervously for an old salt.

"Two miles off the High Rock ledges; you were headed directly for them,"

replied Leopold, as he let go the halyards of the mainsail.

When he had secured the sail, he ascended the accommodation steps, which the seaman had placed on the side for his use. One of the hands carried the painter of the Rosabel to the stern of the Orion.

"I don't know where we are now," said Captain Bounce, who was a short, stout man, with grizzly hair and beard, both reeking with moisture from the fog; and he looked like the typical old sea-dog of the drama.

"Do you know where we are, young man?" asked one of the gentlemen who had filed up the companion-way.

Leopold started suddenly when he heard the voice and turned towards the speaker.

"Of course I do, Mr. Hamilton," replied Leopold, briskly. "I reckon you don't know me, sir."

Leopold took off his old hat, and bowed respectfully to the gentleman, who was m.u.f.fled up in an immense overcoat with a long cape.

"I do not," added the Hon. Mr. Hamilton, with a puzzled expression.

The skipper of the Rosabel thought it was very strange that the honorable gentleman did not recognize him; for he did not consider that he had grown three inches taller himself, and that the distinguished guest of the Cliff House met a great many people in the course of a year.

"Don't you know my boat, sir?" asked Leopold, laughing as he pointed astern at the sloop.

"I do not."

"Well, sir, that's the Rosabel. You have sailed in her more than once."

"O, this is Leopold, then!" exclaimed Mr. Hamilton. "You ought to know where we are."

"I do, sir; and I know that you were headed for the High Rock ledges. I can p.r.i.c.k your position on the chart."

"He knows all about this coast, Captain Bounce," added Mr. Hamilton, turning to the Sailing-master. "He will be a safe pilot for you."

"Well youngster, we are bound to Belfast," said the sailing-master, thrusting his fists deep down into the pockets of his pea-jacket.

"I am not a pilot to Belfast," replied Leopold; "but you must keep her west-half-north for Owl's Head, nine miles from here. There are islands and ledges all around you."

"We have had enough of this sort of thing," interposed Mr. Hamilton, evidently disgusted with his experience. "We have been feeling our way in this fog for twenty-four hours. I would give a thousand dollars to be in Belfast at this moment."

"I don't believe the best pilot on the coast would agree to take this yacht up to Belfast in this fog for twice that sum," added Leopold. "One of the Bangor steamers, that goes over the route every day, got aground the other night."

"I never was on this coast before, Mr. Hamilton, as I told you before we sailed from New York," said Captain Bounce, apologetically; "but if I had been here all my life, I couldn't find my way in a sailing vessel in such a fog as this."

"O, I don't blame you Captain Bounce," added Mr. Hamilton, who was the owner of the yacht.

"I have kept you off the rocks so far; and that was the best I could do."

"You have done all that anybody could do, Captain Bounce, and I have no fault to find with you. But the ladies are very uncomfortable; they are wet, and everything in the cabin is wet with the moisture of this fog.

We are very anxious to get to some good hotel, where we can remain till the fog has blown away," continued Mr. Hamilton.

"You can go into Rockhaven, sir," suggested Leopold.

The Hon. Mr. Hamilton smiled gloomily, and shrugged his shoulders, for he knew how limited were the accommodations in the old Cliff House.

"Your hotel would not hold us, Leopold," said Mr. Hamilton. "Our party consists of fifteen persons. We must get into Rockland, some how or other."

"We have a new hotel, Mr. Hamilton," interposed Leopold.

"What's that?"

"The Sea Cliff House. It is the Cliff House rebuilt and enlarged. We have fifty rooms now, besides new parlors and a new dining-room. The house has been furnished new, and my father means to keep a first-cla.s.s hotel. He has raised the price to three dollars a day, so that he can afford to do so. We have some rooms built on purpose for you, sir."

"Indeed! But your father always kept a good house, though it was not big enough."

"You won't find any better hotel in Rockland or Belfast than the Sea Cliff House, Mr. Hamilton," said Leopold, confidently.

"Then let us go there by all means," added the owner of the Orion. "Can you take the yacht into the harbor, Leopold?"