The Three Admirals Part 51

The dog vanes blew out.

"Hurrah! here comes a breeze!" cried the master. "We shall have it strong enough presently to make sail," he added. "We may then get that ironwork of ours to rights."

The capstan was manned. Scarcely had the men commenced tramping round than a loud report was heard. The messenger had given way, when the cable ran out to the clench, carrying away the stoppers, and running through both compressors. By great exertions, however, the messenger was again shackled together and the anchor hove up. No sooner did it appear above water than Tom, who was on the forecastle, exclaimed--

"Both flukes carried away, sir; nothing but the shank and stock remaining."

Sail was now made; but the ship was evidently drifting to the westward, by which she approached nearer and nearer the sh.o.r.e. Every st.i.tch of canvas that could be set was hoisted. The wind shifted to the very worst quarter from which it could blow. The ship stood on, however, close-hauled, first on the starboard tack, and then, the wind shifting half a point or so, for the purpose of taking advantage of it, she was put about. Every sheet and brace was flattened aft; still, judging by the roar of the breakers, she was no further off the threatening coast than at first.

Many an eye was turned to leeward in an endeavour to discover the line of the coast, which, through the gloom, could dimly be distinguished below the bright sky.

"We still hold our own," said Jack to Archie Gordon, who was walking the deck. "If we can continue to do that until the sea goes down, we may still do well; and we must hope, if we should let drop an anchor, that it will prove sounder than the last. Probably the engineers will by that time have accomplished their task, and we shall be able to get steam on the ship. She doesn't sail close-hauled as well as I expected, and we never before have had an opportunity of testing her as we are now doing."

"I suspect that it is the current carrying her to leeward," observed Archie. "Possibly the wind may increase before daylight, and we shall then be better able to claw off the land."

All night long the captain, endeavouring to take advantage of every change of wind, frequently put the ship about, anxiously wishing for daylight, to be able to judge better than he could during the darkness of her distance from the land. The lead kept going showed no increase of depth, which ranged from thirty-five to forty fathoms. As morning approached, the water shallowed, showing that she was nearer than she had been when night closed in.

"By the deep, twenty," sang out the man in the chains. A short time afterwards, "fifteen fathom," then "twelve." Just at daylight she was in ten fathoms of water. As the sun rose, the marks denoting the entrance to Waterloo Bay were seen under the lee. The bay afforded no shelter with the wind blowing, as it then did, directly into it. Jack hoisted the signals, "Can the troops land?" The answer run up on sh.o.r.e was, "Not until the weather moderates."

In a short time a pilot came off in a surf-boat, and the ship was brought up in nine fathoms, about a mile and a half from the sh.o.r.e. A spring was also got on the cable, in case of requiring to slip, and a bow-rope for a slip-rope, while the spare anchor was shifted to the cathead, in lieu of the one carried away, that everything might be ready in case of necessity.

The pilot, on discovering that the machinery had given way, looked grave. He had been accustomed to sailing vessels all his life, and had no love for steamers.

"I hope your engineers will look sharp and get their work done," he observed to the master. "This is a queer place when the wind is as it is, though well enough when it's off sh.o.r.e."

After breakfast, the major and his family came on deck. Angelica, looking about her, inquired why they could not land.

"Because the boats would be upset and rolled over and over in these breakers, and you, my sweet girl, would be gobbled up by a shark!"

answered Billy, to whom the question was put. "They would choose you first. I'm sure, if I was a shark, I shouldn't like to eat your papa or mamma!"

"Oh, what a dreadful idea!" exclaimed Angelica; yet she smiled at what she considered Billy's compliment.

Billy, who had recovered his verses from Tom, although he had not had time to look at them, thought this a good opportunity of presenting them; and, observing that the major's eyes were turned another way, took the paper out of his pocket and gave it to her.

"These lines, my dearest, will show you the depth of my affection," he said.

Angelica, with a blush, which she had the art of commanding at pleasure, took the paper. A frown, however, gathered on her brow as she read--

"'Tall as a poplar, sharp as a thorn; I should never have missed you had you never been born.

Roses are sweet and lilies are fair, But they lose their beauty when seen in your hair.'"

"Do you mean to insult me?" exclaimed Angelica, in an angry tone, as she continued to read on the doggerel which Tom had subst.i.tuted for those Billy had given him. Just then the major, turning round, saw his daughter with a paper in her hand, and Billy standing by her side. He, supposing it to be a formal proposal which, in his paternal anxiety, he had carefully been looking for, approached with the intention of clinching the matter in the presence of witnesses, and allowing Billy no chance of escape. So convinced was he of this, that, without asking to look at the paper, he grasped Billy's hand.

"My dear fellow," he exclaimed, in his enthusiasm, "I am happy to congratulate you on your success and good taste. She will make you an admirable wife; and you will prove, I am sure, an affectionate husband.

I accept your offer on my daughter's behalf and you shall have my blessing and that of Mrs Bubsby."

"But I have not made a downright offer," answered Billy.

"No, indeed he has not," exclaimed Angelica. "Look at these abominable lines he has just presented to me. What his object was I cannot divine."

The major took the paper and read the lines.

"Do you mean to insult my beloved child by putting such wretched trash as this into her hands?" exclaimed the major, with a sudden revulsion of feeling.

"I did not write them," answered Billy. "Indeed I did not. I had no wish to insult Miss Angelica; for I thought her a most charming person, and had got some beautiful lines almost ready, which I had intended to give her."

"This does not satisfy me, sir," answered the major. "The only apology you can make is to go down on your knees and beg the forgiveness of my innocent child, and offer to marry her forthwith."

"That I'll not," answered Billy, who had not at all liked the ominous frown which he had seen gather over the fair Angelica's brow, and still less the dictatorial tone of the irate major. Billy had a fair proportion of good sense, although he made a fool of himself sometimes; and was, when put on his mettle, as brave as any man. His good genius suggested to him the various remarks which Tom had made respecting the Bubsby family.

"I say that I did not intend to insult your daughter, and that I had not read the lines presented to her, nor did I compose them myself. I must beg that she will give them me back. I am ready to apologise for my unintentional mistake, and do so now."

At this juncture Mrs Bubsby and her other daughter joined the party, and at once set tooth and nail on poor Billy, not literally, but metaphorically. His spirit, however, was up. He positively refused to marry the fair Angelica, or to offer any further apology than he had already done.

"Then, sir, I must have satisfaction," exclaimed the major. "Your blood or mine must dye the soil of Africa ere many days are over!"

"Oh! my beloved husband, do not say that," exclaimed Mrs Bubsby. "He is beneath your notice. If he refuses to marry Angelica, the loss will be his. She will find ere long a far better husband."

"You wicked, deceitful, cruel, abominable young man!" exclaimed Angelica. "If you do not marry me you'll break my heart! It's not the first time I've been treated in this way. It shows me, however, more and more that you naval officers are not to be trusted."

Jack observed that something unpleasant was going on; but he was too much occupied with watching the position of the ship to interfere, as were the other officers. Billy himself also had presently to hurry forward to attend to his duties, while the major and his wife and daughters retired to their cabins to discuss the matter.

By this time heavy rollers were coming in, breaking within a cable's length of the ship on each quarter, making her position far from pleasant. There was but a light air from the southward, insufficient to enable her get under way.

Jack much regretted having come to the place, for it was evidently a far from satisfactory one for landing troops. The cutter was now lowered, and sent round the ship to sound. On her return on board the master reported only seven fathoms close to the breakers. The breeze now freshened from east-south-east, but the rollers increasing, the sea broke heavily half a cable's length from her. Everything was now prepared for making sail. On the cable being shortened in, it was discovered that it had swept over a rock about fifty fathoms from the anchor, and that at any moment it might give way.

"Stop heaving!" cried the captain. "Make ready to slip!" The sails were loosened; but as they were about to be sheeted home, the cable parted. Instantly the sheet anchor was let go. For some seconds it seemed doubtful, before it could reach the bottom, whether the ship would strike on the rocks; but it happily brought her up, though fearfully near them.

By this time it was again night; the rollers had greatly increased, and should the sheet anchor give way, it was clear that nothing could save the ship. Jack had seldom been in so anxious a position. All on board saw the danger they were in. The major's cheek lost its ruddy hue, and even Mrs Bubsby's countenance exhibited signs of alarm. Not far off lay a small vessel with both anchors down. Her master coming on board volunteered to make a hawser fast to her for the purpose of casting the man-of-war the right way.

The engineer stated that it would be some hours before steam could be got up.

"Then let me advise you, sir, to get under way forthwith," said the master of the merchantman. "Should the anchor fail to hold, the ship must inevitably strike on that reef of rocks where the surf is breaking so furiously, and where, strong as she may be, she will not hold together for an hour, while there will not be the slightest chance of saving a single human life."

Jack gladly accepted the worthy master's offer. The cutters were lowered, and hawsers carried to the vessel. The sheet anchor was then weighed, when, on its coming above water, it was found that both the flukes had gone. Her only hope of safety was on the remaining anchor.

Would it hold until sail could be made? From the direction the beats were drifting it was soon seen that, in spite of all the efforts of their crews, it would be impossible to carry the hawsers to the merchantman. Jack looked anxiously at the compa.s.s and dog vanes. He knew full well that at any moment the cable might part, and, should the ship not cast the right way, she must be driven on the rocks and every soul perish.

"I would advise you to return on board your own vessel, my friend," he said to the master of the merchantman. "You will be safer on board her than here."

"Now is your chance, captain," exclaimed the master, as the wind veered a point well to the eastward.

The cable was slipped. The ship mercifully canted the right way under single-reefed topsails, topgallant sails, jib, and driver, and with a strong breeze stood out of the treacherous bay.

Jack and all on board had good reason to thank a merciful Providence that they had escaped the danger to which they had been exposed. At length the _Bellona_ was clear of the land. Now came the question of what to do with the troops. There was only one anchor left. Jack considered that it would be extreme rashness to bring up again close to the sh.o.r.e until he had steam power on which to depend to help him off, should the wind continue to the southward. Still it was of the greatest importance that by some means or other the troops should be landed. The major, who was by this time anxious to leave the ship, insisted that "it ought to be done, and must be done."

"The _must_ depends upon circ.u.mstances," answered Jack. "If I can land your men I will, without risking their lives or those of my boats'

crews. By running further to the eastward, a place may be found where you can be put on sh.o.r.e, and you must march from thence to the place you were ordered to garrison, but until the machinery is in good working order, I must do my utmost to keep off the land."

To this the major had nothing to say.