The Voyage of the Aurora Part 2

Then a single stroke on the bell, followed by the reappearance of the substantial-looking clerk.

"Bring me in the inventory of the _Aurora_, if you please; that paper that was left here by Mr Sutton yesterday."

The doc.u.ment was brought in, and Mr Roberts at once handed it over to his client with the remark--

"There, my dear sir, just run your eye over that; if the _Aurora_ won't suit you, _nothing_ will. She is a capital little ship; I know her well. Her owner, poor fellow--who is captain of her also--had the misfortune to lose his wife last voyage--washed overboard somehow in a gale of wind--and it has so upset him that he has resolved to cut the sea altogether and everything connected with it. He is even willing to sell at a great sacrifice, so as to get rid of the ship as soon as possible. Great bargain, captain; most extraordinary bargain; never get another such a chance."

"That looks much more promising," said George, returning the paper.

"Where is she, and when can I see her?"

"London Docks--see her in an hour--I'll take you down on board at once,"

was the reply.

And merely stopping to change his coat, and give some instructions to his clerks, Mr Roberts invited George to follow him; and, getting into the street, they hailed the first hackney-coach which pa.s.sed, and in a few minutes were jolting along on their way to the London Docks.

Dismissing the coach at the dock gates, Mr Roberts inquired of the gate-keeper where the _Aurora_ was to be found.

"Inside ship, fourth berth, north side," answered the man, pointing out the direction they were to take.

They soon found the vessel, and George, standing on the edge of the dock wall, saw before him a pretty little barque of some four hundred and odd tons, copper-bottomed, with a flush deck fore and aft, a fine set of spars, and such a shapely hull as set his eyes glistening. He walked away from her and knelt down so as to take a good look at her "run;"

then went ahead of her to see what her bows were like; and finally, very much prepossessed in her favour already, went on board, accompanied by Mr Roberts.

Here they were received by the ship-keeper, who at once led the way into the cabin. This proved to be an exceedingly snug and comfortable apartment, not very large, yet roomy enough, and very tastefully fitted up. Abaft this they found the captain's cabin, a room some twelve feet long, and the entire width of the ship, well lighted--there being both a skylight and stern-ports--and fitted up in a style which gave unmistakable evidence of the refined taste of the former captain's poor drowned wife. From the cabin they proceeded to the forecastle, and from thence into the hold, George all the time peering about everywhere for signs of weakness or bad workmanship, without finding any. Having at length satisfied himself as to the soundness of the hull, he went aloft and gave to the spars and rigging a careful examination. Here, too, everything was perfectly satisfactory; and when he at length stepped down out of the rigging on to the deck, he nodded approvingly to Mr Roberts and said--

"All right; I'll take her."

"Glad to hear you say so, captain," was the cheery reply; "she is a capital little craft, and I'm sure you'll like her. Now--as it is nearly two o'clock--what say you, will you come and take dinner with me?"

Leicester acquiescing, they made the best of their way to the eating-house which Mr Roberts patronised, and, while discussing the meal, made arrangements for the completion of the purchase.

The meal ended, George wended his way back toward the dock, and, turning into Nightingale Lane, established himself in tolerably comfortable quarters in a boarding-house kept by a widow, whose husband had been what she called a "sea-captain."

On the following day Captain Leicester paid over the full amount of the purchase-money, receiving in return the ship's register properly endorsed; and that same evening he found himself the undisputed owner of the _Aurora_.

His next task was to secure a freight. This he had no difficulty in doing--in fact he had his choice of some half a dozen--and by noon he had accepted a charter for the conveyance of a general cargo to Kingston, Jamaica; to commence loading at once. Having completed the business, he hurried away to the shipping-office, and was fortunate enough to secure the services of a very promising-looking mate, who undertook to establish himself on board forthwith, so as to be on the spot in readiness to receive the cargo as it came down to the ship.

George now found himself comparatively at leisure, and he had at one time serious thoughts of running down to Gosport, were it only for a day, just to see Lucy once more, and bid her good-bye. Well would it have been for both of them had he done so. But on reconsidering the matter, he arrived at the conclusion that no good could possibly come of any such proceeding, whilst the sight of Lucy would only too certainly increase the pangs of regret he already so keenly felt at his failure to win her; so he eventually decided to remain where he was, and occupy himself in watching the stowage of the cargo.

CHAPTER THREE.

A CAPTURE AND A RECAPTURE.

A fortnight from the day on which Captain Leicester signed the charter-party saw the last package pa.s.sed into the _Aurora's_ hold, and on the following day she sailed for Plymouth, there to join a fleet of merchant-ships which were to cross the Atlantic under convoy.

Thanks princ.i.p.ally to the exertions of his chief mate, Mr Bowen, George was fortunate enough to pick up a very good crew, comprising a second mate--who acted also as boatswain--a carpenter, a steward, a black cook, two able-seamen, four ordinary ditto, and two well-grown lads, who had already been a voyage or two in a coaster. This const.i.tuted a complement of fourteen men, all told; just sufficient to handle the barque comfortably.

They sailed from the Thames with the wind at about west, and had a capital run as far as the South Foreland, the _Aurora_ showing herself to be such a smart vessel under her canvas that her commander was delighted with her.

At this point, however, the wind, which still held from the westward, was dead against them, and it became a question whether they should anchor in the Downs to await a favourable change, or continue on and endeavour to beat a pa.s.sage as far as Plymouth. Prudence dictated the adoption of the former course; it being well known that the Channel was just then swarming with French privateers--powerful luggers for the most part--the captains of which had an unpleasant habit of slipping out of harbour as the evening came on, and stretching across toward the English coast, on the lookout for our merchantmen, very often picking up a valuable prize and getting back into port the next morning. The weather, too, happened just then to be highly favourable for the operations of these gentry, the sky being overcast with frequent showers, and no moon.

On the other hand, however, time was of the utmost importance; George had only five days left him in which to reach Plymouth, if he was to avail himself of the protection of convoy; so, after discussing the question with Mr Bowen, and carefully weighing it in his own mind, he finally decided to keep the ship moving, and to trust to fortune and a good lookout.

The _Aurora_ accordingly proceeded, stretching over as far as mid-channel, when she went about; and on drawing in with the land again Leicester had the satisfaction of seeing that she would handsomely weather Beachy Head, which she did, tacking close in under the land about breakfast-time on the day following her departure from London. At 2 p.m., being at the time rather nearer to the French than to the English coast, George tacked again, in order to close the English sh.o.r.e toward nightfall.

At 9 p.m., being abreast of Littlehampton, and about eight miles off the sh.o.r.e, the _Aurora_ went about once more, and stood over towards France, close-hauled on the starboard tack.

The weather had cleared somewhat, the sun breaking through the clouds as the afternoon wore on, and flooding the whole western sky with splendour as he sank to rest. One by one, as the golden glory of the west faded into sober grey, the stars shone out, peeping shyly down upon the world from the softly dappled sky, and there was every prospect of its being a fine night in the Channel. George accordingly gave instructions for the ship to continue on the same tack until midnight, when she was to be hove about once more. Then, cautioning the second mate--who was in charge of the deck--to maintain a strict lookout and to call him in the event of a change of weather or the appearance of a suspicious-looking sail in their neighbourhood, he went below to s.n.a.t.c.h an hour or two of sleep, having had none so far from the moment of the vessel's sailing.

Flinging off his clothes, he threw himself into his swinging cot, and instantly sank into a sound and dreamless slumber; to be awakened again with a start, and almost instantly, as it seemed to him, by the flapping of the ship's canvas in the wind.

Starting up into a sitting posture, he heard the voice of the chief mate on deck giving the necessary orders for tacking ship.

"Hillo!" he thought, "what is the meaning of this? Nothing wrong, I hope. No, that cannot be, or they would surely have called me. Perhaps it is a change of wind; I hope it is. Well, being awake, I may as well slip on deck and satisfy myself as to the meaning of it."

He accordingly sprang out of his cot, and began to dress himself; the sounds on deck having meanwhile ceased, save for the monotonous tread overhead of the officer of the watch, and the occasional clank of the wheel-chains. The ship was heeling over to starboard, showing that she was on the port tack, and the rushing sound of the water along her sides seemed to indicate that she was moving pretty rapidly through it.

As he opened his state-room door to pa.s.s into the main cabin, a heavy step was heard descending the companion-ladder, and the next moment the second mate appeared at its foot, in the act of turning into his own state-room.

"Well, Mr Cross," said the skipper, "what is the news from the deck?

You have tacked ship, it seems; is there a change of wind?"

"No, sir," answered Cross; "the wind still holds steady at about west, though it seems a little inclined to back half a point or so to the south'ard, and it's clouded over again and gone very dark. We tacked at midnight, sir, according to your orders."

"Midnight!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed George; "you surely do not mean to say it is midnight already, Cross?"

"About a quarter after it, sir," answered the second mate with a smile.

"You've slept sound, sir, I expect; and time has travelled fast with you."

"I must have slept sound indeed," answered the skipper; "to me it seemed that I had hardly fallen asleep when I was awakened by the flapping of the canvas. Well, I'll not keep you from your bunk; I shall go on deck and take a look round before I turn in again. Good-night."

"Good-night, sir," was the reply; and the second mate opened the door of his berth and pa.s.sed in, whilst George sprang lightly up the companion-ladder and stepped out on deck.

It was indeed, as the second mate had said, very dark; so much so that the skipper, having just left the cabin, where a lamp was dimly burning, was unable to see anything for a moment or two. Then, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he caught first a glimpse of the man at the wheel, his form faintly illuminated by the binnacle light, then the figure of the mate, just turning near the taffrail to walk forward, and finally the dark, shadowy pile of canvas towering away aloft until it melted into the general obscurity.

"It has gone very dark again, Mr Bowen," remarked the skipper, as the mate, becoming aware of George's presence on deck, joined him.

"It _is_ dark, sir," answered the mate, "almost too dark to be poking about here in the Channel without lights."

"It is rather risky, I admit," returned George; "still, I do not think it is so dangerous as showing our lights; that would simply be hanging out an invitation to those prowling French privateers to pounce down on us. How is her head?"--to the man at the wheel, George and the mate having by this time strolled aft together.

"No'th, half west, sir," was the reply.

"Come, that is not so bad," remarked George. "We shall fetch Plymouth yet in good time to join the convoy if all be--"

"A sail broad on the weather bow!" broke in the lookout forward, with startling abruptness.

Both George and the mate instantly directed their gaze in the direction indicated by the lookout; and presently a shapeless something like a blacker patch against the black background of the darkness loomed into view, about one point before the beam, showing by this rapid change in the respective positions of the two ships how near was the stranger.