Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.Down the Channel.“Well, shipmate,” said Webster, coming out of the chart house, “have you been promoted from the saloon to the bridge, passing over the cook on the way, just after the old style when a lord-in-waiting, who did not know a brig from a bumboat, was appointed admiral? No apprenticeship, no navigation, no examination, but an order from the Commodore: ‘Mr Hume, sir, please take the third watch.’”“No,” was the gloomy response; “I could not accept.”“You swab! You mean to tell me you’ve declined to help the Commodore?”“I presume you refer to the young lady?”“Presume be damned. Have you no eyes, man, no gallantry; can you stand by and see a girl like that eat her heart out with sorrow and anxiety? Not that I care a brass button whether you help or not, for double work doesn’t hurt me; but just think what she’ll be like after a fortnight in this crazy roundabout.”“You forget I know nothing about the lady, nor this ship, nor its mission.”“And what’s that got to do with your keeping an eye on the binnacle, or a cheerful face that will do something to keep her spirits up? As for the matter of that, I know precious little about the object of this voyage, but it’s enough for me to know that she wants my help, and that Captain Pardoe is in command.”“It is not enough for me. My knowledge of Captain Pardoe does not inspire me with much confidence in his designs, and you forget the circumstances under which I was trapped.”“Well, well, you’re just like the rest. You landsmen don’t mind what you do ashore, but no sooner do you come aboard than you’re as nice with your conscience as a lady’s-maid with her mistress’s borrowed gown. I warrant you’d not trouble your head about the policy of a merchant’s business if you entered his service, not though he was selling bad pork to sailors or robbing the widows.”“You’re going rather wide of the mark, Mr Webster,” said Frank sternly.“There, now, you’ve taken offence, and that’s what makes me sad to think of you tossing like a log in your cabin—like that cold-blooded creature of a Commins who’s drinking champagne in his bunk, the swab.”“Mr Webster!” hailed the Captain.“Yes, sir!”“Take the remainder of my watch, please, and keep a sharp look-out on the starboard quarter.”Webster swung quickly to the bridge, where he touched his hat to the lady, and then braced himself fast to sweep the channel with the glass.Captain Pardee came down slowly, and reeled a little on the deck, as though he had taken too much grog, thought Frank, as he caught him by the arm.“Thank ’ee,” said he. “I’ve not quitted the bridge before since we left the Pool, and my legs are rather stiff.”He staggered on to the small gangway and descended, leaving Frank to his own reflections, which were not very pleasant. If a man so tough and strong, and inured to hardship, as Captain Pardoe evidently was, felt the strain of the long watch on board, it was clearly beyond the power of a girl to undertake any part of work so trying.She was still standing on the bridge, her face wet with the driving spray, and a tense look about the mouth which told of nerves high-strung. She was looking fixedly before her, and did not, as she had on her first coming on deck, bend her head to the flying spume in playful defiance. As he watched her, hesitating between his wish to help and his stubborn regard for his own rights, he saw her lips tremble, and that settled the matter.“Madam,” he said, reaching her side in a moment, “I am ready to help.”She withdrew her face from the sea, and he saw that her thoughts had been far from him or the ship, and in some confusion he repeated his words. A faint flush came to her cheek, and a brighter look in her eye.“I’m so glad,” she whispered, and Frank, feeling something coquettish in this, flushed himself. With the faintest smile, she continued: “I come of a superstitious race, and your refusal, so brusquely given, too, had shaken my faith in my own power, and what is of more importance, in the success of my undertaking. I was reading ‘failure’ out there in the tumbling waters—But now you have reassured me. That is why I am glad.”He flushed more deeply yet to think how easily she read his thoughts.“You must forgive me,” he said, with a frank smile, “but I only wanted an excuse to satisfy my reasonable suspicions.”“And you have found it?” she said, with an answering smile.“Yes; I think I have.”“Then you do not think that I am likely to menace the security of England with this craft?”“I am in ignorance of your intentions still, but I am willing to believe that you are bent upon no desperate or unjust enterprise.”“Desperate it may prove,” she said proudly, “but unjust it is not. No, no, believe me, sir, if there is any cause which would claim the sympathy of a brave man it is this upon which I am set.”She rested her fingers on his arm, and looked at him earnestly with eyes dewed with unshed tears.What emotion could it be, he thought, so powerful as to move one by nature so proud and self-reliant? He felt that further suspicion on his part would be contemptible.“I am no seaman, madam,” he said, “but I may be of some service.”“Mr Webster, will you tell Mr Hume in what way he may best assist us?”“Ay, ay, madam.”“Then I leave the ship in your hands, gentlemen, until Captain Pardoe has rested.” She bowed her head and left the bridge.“So, after all, you’ve taken up arms against your lawful sovereign, and all for the smile of a woman, with not so much to show as the Queen’s shilling. Shake, my son!”“Don’t talk rot, and tell me what I’m to do.”“Is that the way to address your superior officer? Harkee, sir, for less than that I’ve clapped a man in irons. But I forgive you. Put your eye to the business end of this glass and tell me what craft is steaming up on the weather bows. My eyes are dim for the want of sleep.”What with the swing and plunging of the “catcher,” it was some time before Frank could get the object within view, and when he did it was but a fleeting glimpse he had.“It’s a Cape mail-boat,” he said; “I can make that out from her red funnels and grey hull.”“Good. Now, would you know a warship if she showed at that distance?”“Possibly, from her unusual breadth of beam—not to speak of her guns.”“Well, my lad, keep a keen lookout, for there’ll be a lookout kept for us off the Isle of Wight, and be most particular in noting small craft. Set a thief to catch a thief, and as likely as not they’ll send a ‘catcher’ out from Portsmouth, and a cruiser from Plymouth. If you see anything strange in the movements of a steamer, blow down this pipe, and I’ll be up in a brace of shakes. I must have a wink before to-night;” and Webster, fetching a terrific yawn, went off down below.Hume was left alone on the bridge, and, as far as he could see, there were only two other men on deck—the steersman inside the wheelhouse, and a seaman in a look-out shelter forward. It was a strange turn of the wheel which had placed him there in temporary charge of a torpedo-catcher, bound on he knew not what mad mission, and he shook his head once or twice in grave doubts of his own action, and of the conduct of those who so lightly trusted him—conduct which seemed to him to smack of the reckless. However, he entered upon his task without further thought of the consequences, letting his eyes sweep from right to left over the grey waters, and lingering here and there on a sail or a streamer of smoke. At first he eyed every ship with suspicion and fidgeted when a fishing lugger drove by before the wind, the crew peering under the boom at the long, low, swift craft; but after a time he reasoned he need fear no Craft which sailed on a parallel course up or down channel, and looked out only for sign of a ship making across. The sun mounted higher in the heavens, the wind fell away, and theSwiftgrew gradually steadier, and he could walk up and down the bridge without having to hold on at each step.Close on noon Captain Pardoe came up to take a “sight,” retiring to the chart house to work out his bearings. The man at the wheel was relieved, and Mr Webster reappeared, looking as jolly as before, with a merry twinkle in his eye.“Anything in view, Mr Hume?”“Nothing but a couple of sailers and an ocean tramp, as I judge that steamer to be.”Webster took a look round to satisfy himself.“Now,” he said, “you go below for a snack and a snooze. You’ll find some tack on the table. Tumble into my cabin, as yours is too wet.”Frank, nothing loath, went down, and was soon in a sound sleep, out of which he was aroused well on in the afternoon by a rough shaking, to find Webster bending over him with a sparkle in his eyes.“There’s some fun afoot, my lad, with the prospect of sudden death and damp burial, so hurry up,” and the breezy first officer went like a tornado down the narrow alley.Frank was quickly on deck, and found Webster talking to the look-out man, while Captain Pardoe and Miss Laura were on the bridge anxiously watching some object on the starboard bows. Looking in that direction, he could see nothing but a heavy streamer of smoke tailing away to the north, plainly showing that the steamer was on a course that would intercept the “destroyer.” Mounting to the bridge, he sighted the double funnels and heavy top hamper of a large vessel with the unmistakable cut of an ironclad.“What do you make her?” said the Captain gloomily, more to break the silence than to ask for information.Frank took the proffered glass, and bringing it to bear, it revealed two barbette towers, with long guns projecting, sharp bows heavily scrolled with gilt, and a mass of tumbled waters pouring before her rush.“She is coming along at a tremendous pace, Captain.”“Ay, eighteen knots, and she’ll be across our bows in a quarter of an hour, if she doesn’t ram us to gain a little experience.”“I am sure she cannot be in pursuit of us,” said Miss Laura, stamping her foot. “How could she hit off our position so exactly, when we have made little smoke and stood well away from the English coast? She may be a French cruiser.”The Captain shook his head.“They’d log our course as soon as they received all particulars by wire, and from the crow’s-nest on the masts they’d see us sooner than we could find them.”“Well, then, we must run away; and if she is only doing eighteen knots we should have no difficulty in escaping.”“True, ma’am, if it was a stern chase; but she’ll have us right under her bows.”“And what will you do if she orders us to stop?” and the young lady fixed a burning glance upon the dark and troubled face of the Captain.“I’ll take my orders from you, Miss Laura,” he said gravely; “even though she turns her big guns on us.”“Well, then, signal to the engineer to cram on all steam. We won’t get under her guns, at any rate.”The Captain smiled, then touched the bell, and the sharp summons below was answered by prompt stoking.Frank stood back, an amazed and silent witness of this scene on the little bridge. It seemed a thing incredible and unreal that a girl should have control in a matter fraught with such a responsibility and such peril. He glanced keenly at the Captain to see whether or no he were humouring the young lady; but there was no sign in that dark and gloomy face except an air of grim resignation, while, though Miss Laura showed, in the imperious lift of her head and in her flashing eyes, visible tokens of intense feeling, she gave no trace of a mind unhinged.“Heave the log, Mr Webster.”Webster’s voice rang out cheerily; and soon the long line was paying out in the foaming track. A bare-legged and brawny-armed tar, taking the line over his shoulder, staggered forward with it when its swift race had been checked by the minute hand, and Webster himself put his weight into the work, seeing which, Frank went down to help, for it’s no child’s play towing in the line from the grasp of the rushing waters.“Twenty-three, sir,” sang out Webster; “and no bad speed, too, in the open,” he added to Frank.In a few minutes the space between the two ships had greatly lessened, and the name of the cruiser could be picked out on her bows.“Do you see that, Miss Laura? there’s no doubt she’s after us.”“I see no change in her, Captain.”“She has shifted her course in answer to our increased speed, and instead of being stem on, you can now see almost the length of her broadside.”“She’s got her bow chaser cleared, sir,” said Webster, in a tone of pleasurable excitement.A grand and formidable object the warship appeared now, sending before her terrible bows a white avalanche of water, her white decks lined with men, and the dark muzzles of her guns threatening destruction. And no less deadly in aspect, though on a lesser scale, was the low and swifter craft sullenly plunging on like some stealthy panther retreating, snarling and half reluctant, before the advance of a royal tiger.“It is strange she does not signal,” muttered the Captain, “unless she means to speak us.”The cruiser was so near now that every man on board the port side could be distinctly seen, and it was clear that where the two lines met the ships would be within less than a cable’s length.“She made another point to starboard,” said Webster. “If she doesn’t give way she’ll be on top of us.”“She won’t give way an inch,” said the Captain bitterly; “and she’s in her rights as a Queen’s ship. Stand by, below!” he shouted.The two ships tore along, the cruiser terrible and silent, except for the foaming of the waves, and every soul on the smaller vessel held his breath.“Reverse the starboard screw!” shouted Captain Pardoe; “bring her round two points on the starboard!”The long craft trembled as the one screw revolved in opposition to the other, then she bore away and darted under the stern of the great ship, heeling over from the waves that swelled up in the wake.The cruiser came round with a stately sweep, bringing up on the port side on a parallel course; and they all waited for the summons from the commander. It came, ringing, sharp and peremptory:“Lay-to, there!”Miss Laura looked at Captain Pardoe, with her hand to her heart, and he signalled to the engineer for more speed. The little vessel darted forward, her stem settling down like the tail of a duck taking to flight, a huge wave rising up right above the rails.The cruiser sank astern; but from her bows there leapt a great ball of smoke, followed by a deafening report.“We know what that means,” said Webster, with a smile, “and she’ll play skittles with us presently.”But the cruiser held on without further notice, sinking further astern with each minute.The distance between widened to a mile, and still she gave no other sign, and those on the bridge looked at each other in wonder.“You see, Captain,” said Miss Laura, betwixt a sob and a laugh, “I was right. She did not know us, and we are safe.”“Steamers ahead!” came the hoarse cry from the look-out, like a croak of ill-omen.Glasses were quickly raised for a long scrutiny of two small steamers low down in the water.“Well?” said the Captain, with a look at Webster.“Pilot boats mayhap,” said that officer, with a queer grimace and a swift glance at the young lady, whose face had paled again to the lips at this new anxiety.“Oh, are they?” she asked, with a troubled look at the Captain.“No, Miss Laura,” he said sadly; “they’re torpedo boats. That’s why the cruiser let us slip. They mean to take this boat without injury to her or us, and they’ve got us in a trap.”

“Well, shipmate,” said Webster, coming out of the chart house, “have you been promoted from the saloon to the bridge, passing over the cook on the way, just after the old style when a lord-in-waiting, who did not know a brig from a bumboat, was appointed admiral? No apprenticeship, no navigation, no examination, but an order from the Commodore: ‘Mr Hume, sir, please take the third watch.’”

“No,” was the gloomy response; “I could not accept.”

“You swab! You mean to tell me you’ve declined to help the Commodore?”

“I presume you refer to the young lady?”

“Presume be damned. Have you no eyes, man, no gallantry; can you stand by and see a girl like that eat her heart out with sorrow and anxiety? Not that I care a brass button whether you help or not, for double work doesn’t hurt me; but just think what she’ll be like after a fortnight in this crazy roundabout.”

“You forget I know nothing about the lady, nor this ship, nor its mission.”

“And what’s that got to do with your keeping an eye on the binnacle, or a cheerful face that will do something to keep her spirits up? As for the matter of that, I know precious little about the object of this voyage, but it’s enough for me to know that she wants my help, and that Captain Pardoe is in command.”

“It is not enough for me. My knowledge of Captain Pardoe does not inspire me with much confidence in his designs, and you forget the circumstances under which I was trapped.”

“Well, well, you’re just like the rest. You landsmen don’t mind what you do ashore, but no sooner do you come aboard than you’re as nice with your conscience as a lady’s-maid with her mistress’s borrowed gown. I warrant you’d not trouble your head about the policy of a merchant’s business if you entered his service, not though he was selling bad pork to sailors or robbing the widows.”

“You’re going rather wide of the mark, Mr Webster,” said Frank sternly.

“There, now, you’ve taken offence, and that’s what makes me sad to think of you tossing like a log in your cabin—like that cold-blooded creature of a Commins who’s drinking champagne in his bunk, the swab.”

“Mr Webster!” hailed the Captain.

“Yes, sir!”

“Take the remainder of my watch, please, and keep a sharp look-out on the starboard quarter.”

Webster swung quickly to the bridge, where he touched his hat to the lady, and then braced himself fast to sweep the channel with the glass.

Captain Pardee came down slowly, and reeled a little on the deck, as though he had taken too much grog, thought Frank, as he caught him by the arm.

“Thank ’ee,” said he. “I’ve not quitted the bridge before since we left the Pool, and my legs are rather stiff.”

He staggered on to the small gangway and descended, leaving Frank to his own reflections, which were not very pleasant. If a man so tough and strong, and inured to hardship, as Captain Pardoe evidently was, felt the strain of the long watch on board, it was clearly beyond the power of a girl to undertake any part of work so trying.

She was still standing on the bridge, her face wet with the driving spray, and a tense look about the mouth which told of nerves high-strung. She was looking fixedly before her, and did not, as she had on her first coming on deck, bend her head to the flying spume in playful defiance. As he watched her, hesitating between his wish to help and his stubborn regard for his own rights, he saw her lips tremble, and that settled the matter.

“Madam,” he said, reaching her side in a moment, “I am ready to help.”

She withdrew her face from the sea, and he saw that her thoughts had been far from him or the ship, and in some confusion he repeated his words. A faint flush came to her cheek, and a brighter look in her eye.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered, and Frank, feeling something coquettish in this, flushed himself. With the faintest smile, she continued: “I come of a superstitious race, and your refusal, so brusquely given, too, had shaken my faith in my own power, and what is of more importance, in the success of my undertaking. I was reading ‘failure’ out there in the tumbling waters—But now you have reassured me. That is why I am glad.”

He flushed more deeply yet to think how easily she read his thoughts.

“You must forgive me,” he said, with a frank smile, “but I only wanted an excuse to satisfy my reasonable suspicions.”

“And you have found it?” she said, with an answering smile.

“Yes; I think I have.”

“Then you do not think that I am likely to menace the security of England with this craft?”

“I am in ignorance of your intentions still, but I am willing to believe that you are bent upon no desperate or unjust enterprise.”

“Desperate it may prove,” she said proudly, “but unjust it is not. No, no, believe me, sir, if there is any cause which would claim the sympathy of a brave man it is this upon which I am set.”

She rested her fingers on his arm, and looked at him earnestly with eyes dewed with unshed tears.

What emotion could it be, he thought, so powerful as to move one by nature so proud and self-reliant? He felt that further suspicion on his part would be contemptible.

“I am no seaman, madam,” he said, “but I may be of some service.”

“Mr Webster, will you tell Mr Hume in what way he may best assist us?”

“Ay, ay, madam.”

“Then I leave the ship in your hands, gentlemen, until Captain Pardoe has rested.” She bowed her head and left the bridge.

“So, after all, you’ve taken up arms against your lawful sovereign, and all for the smile of a woman, with not so much to show as the Queen’s shilling. Shake, my son!”

“Don’t talk rot, and tell me what I’m to do.”

“Is that the way to address your superior officer? Harkee, sir, for less than that I’ve clapped a man in irons. But I forgive you. Put your eye to the business end of this glass and tell me what craft is steaming up on the weather bows. My eyes are dim for the want of sleep.”

What with the swing and plunging of the “catcher,” it was some time before Frank could get the object within view, and when he did it was but a fleeting glimpse he had.

“It’s a Cape mail-boat,” he said; “I can make that out from her red funnels and grey hull.”

“Good. Now, would you know a warship if she showed at that distance?”

“Possibly, from her unusual breadth of beam—not to speak of her guns.”

“Well, my lad, keep a keen lookout, for there’ll be a lookout kept for us off the Isle of Wight, and be most particular in noting small craft. Set a thief to catch a thief, and as likely as not they’ll send a ‘catcher’ out from Portsmouth, and a cruiser from Plymouth. If you see anything strange in the movements of a steamer, blow down this pipe, and I’ll be up in a brace of shakes. I must have a wink before to-night;” and Webster, fetching a terrific yawn, went off down below.

Hume was left alone on the bridge, and, as far as he could see, there were only two other men on deck—the steersman inside the wheelhouse, and a seaman in a look-out shelter forward. It was a strange turn of the wheel which had placed him there in temporary charge of a torpedo-catcher, bound on he knew not what mad mission, and he shook his head once or twice in grave doubts of his own action, and of the conduct of those who so lightly trusted him—conduct which seemed to him to smack of the reckless. However, he entered upon his task without further thought of the consequences, letting his eyes sweep from right to left over the grey waters, and lingering here and there on a sail or a streamer of smoke. At first he eyed every ship with suspicion and fidgeted when a fishing lugger drove by before the wind, the crew peering under the boom at the long, low, swift craft; but after a time he reasoned he need fear no Craft which sailed on a parallel course up or down channel, and looked out only for sign of a ship making across. The sun mounted higher in the heavens, the wind fell away, and theSwiftgrew gradually steadier, and he could walk up and down the bridge without having to hold on at each step.

Close on noon Captain Pardoe came up to take a “sight,” retiring to the chart house to work out his bearings. The man at the wheel was relieved, and Mr Webster reappeared, looking as jolly as before, with a merry twinkle in his eye.

“Anything in view, Mr Hume?”

“Nothing but a couple of sailers and an ocean tramp, as I judge that steamer to be.”

Webster took a look round to satisfy himself.

“Now,” he said, “you go below for a snack and a snooze. You’ll find some tack on the table. Tumble into my cabin, as yours is too wet.”

Frank, nothing loath, went down, and was soon in a sound sleep, out of which he was aroused well on in the afternoon by a rough shaking, to find Webster bending over him with a sparkle in his eyes.

“There’s some fun afoot, my lad, with the prospect of sudden death and damp burial, so hurry up,” and the breezy first officer went like a tornado down the narrow alley.

Frank was quickly on deck, and found Webster talking to the look-out man, while Captain Pardoe and Miss Laura were on the bridge anxiously watching some object on the starboard bows. Looking in that direction, he could see nothing but a heavy streamer of smoke tailing away to the north, plainly showing that the steamer was on a course that would intercept the “destroyer.” Mounting to the bridge, he sighted the double funnels and heavy top hamper of a large vessel with the unmistakable cut of an ironclad.

“What do you make her?” said the Captain gloomily, more to break the silence than to ask for information.

Frank took the proffered glass, and bringing it to bear, it revealed two barbette towers, with long guns projecting, sharp bows heavily scrolled with gilt, and a mass of tumbled waters pouring before her rush.

“She is coming along at a tremendous pace, Captain.”

“Ay, eighteen knots, and she’ll be across our bows in a quarter of an hour, if she doesn’t ram us to gain a little experience.”

“I am sure she cannot be in pursuit of us,” said Miss Laura, stamping her foot. “How could she hit off our position so exactly, when we have made little smoke and stood well away from the English coast? She may be a French cruiser.”

The Captain shook his head.

“They’d log our course as soon as they received all particulars by wire, and from the crow’s-nest on the masts they’d see us sooner than we could find them.”

“Well, then, we must run away; and if she is only doing eighteen knots we should have no difficulty in escaping.”

“True, ma’am, if it was a stern chase; but she’ll have us right under her bows.”

“And what will you do if she orders us to stop?” and the young lady fixed a burning glance upon the dark and troubled face of the Captain.

“I’ll take my orders from you, Miss Laura,” he said gravely; “even though she turns her big guns on us.”

“Well, then, signal to the engineer to cram on all steam. We won’t get under her guns, at any rate.”

The Captain smiled, then touched the bell, and the sharp summons below was answered by prompt stoking.

Frank stood back, an amazed and silent witness of this scene on the little bridge. It seemed a thing incredible and unreal that a girl should have control in a matter fraught with such a responsibility and such peril. He glanced keenly at the Captain to see whether or no he were humouring the young lady; but there was no sign in that dark and gloomy face except an air of grim resignation, while, though Miss Laura showed, in the imperious lift of her head and in her flashing eyes, visible tokens of intense feeling, she gave no trace of a mind unhinged.

“Heave the log, Mr Webster.”

Webster’s voice rang out cheerily; and soon the long line was paying out in the foaming track. A bare-legged and brawny-armed tar, taking the line over his shoulder, staggered forward with it when its swift race had been checked by the minute hand, and Webster himself put his weight into the work, seeing which, Frank went down to help, for it’s no child’s play towing in the line from the grasp of the rushing waters.

“Twenty-three, sir,” sang out Webster; “and no bad speed, too, in the open,” he added to Frank.

In a few minutes the space between the two ships had greatly lessened, and the name of the cruiser could be picked out on her bows.

“Do you see that, Miss Laura? there’s no doubt she’s after us.”

“I see no change in her, Captain.”

“She has shifted her course in answer to our increased speed, and instead of being stem on, you can now see almost the length of her broadside.”

“She’s got her bow chaser cleared, sir,” said Webster, in a tone of pleasurable excitement.

A grand and formidable object the warship appeared now, sending before her terrible bows a white avalanche of water, her white decks lined with men, and the dark muzzles of her guns threatening destruction. And no less deadly in aspect, though on a lesser scale, was the low and swifter craft sullenly plunging on like some stealthy panther retreating, snarling and half reluctant, before the advance of a royal tiger.

“It is strange she does not signal,” muttered the Captain, “unless she means to speak us.”

The cruiser was so near now that every man on board the port side could be distinctly seen, and it was clear that where the two lines met the ships would be within less than a cable’s length.

“She made another point to starboard,” said Webster. “If she doesn’t give way she’ll be on top of us.”

“She won’t give way an inch,” said the Captain bitterly; “and she’s in her rights as a Queen’s ship. Stand by, below!” he shouted.

The two ships tore along, the cruiser terrible and silent, except for the foaming of the waves, and every soul on the smaller vessel held his breath.

“Reverse the starboard screw!” shouted Captain Pardoe; “bring her round two points on the starboard!”

The long craft trembled as the one screw revolved in opposition to the other, then she bore away and darted under the stern of the great ship, heeling over from the waves that swelled up in the wake.

The cruiser came round with a stately sweep, bringing up on the port side on a parallel course; and they all waited for the summons from the commander. It came, ringing, sharp and peremptory:

“Lay-to, there!”

Miss Laura looked at Captain Pardoe, with her hand to her heart, and he signalled to the engineer for more speed. The little vessel darted forward, her stem settling down like the tail of a duck taking to flight, a huge wave rising up right above the rails.

The cruiser sank astern; but from her bows there leapt a great ball of smoke, followed by a deafening report.

“We know what that means,” said Webster, with a smile, “and she’ll play skittles with us presently.”

But the cruiser held on without further notice, sinking further astern with each minute.

The distance between widened to a mile, and still she gave no other sign, and those on the bridge looked at each other in wonder.

“You see, Captain,” said Miss Laura, betwixt a sob and a laugh, “I was right. She did not know us, and we are safe.”

“Steamers ahead!” came the hoarse cry from the look-out, like a croak of ill-omen.

Glasses were quickly raised for a long scrutiny of two small steamers low down in the water.

“Well?” said the Captain, with a look at Webster.

“Pilot boats mayhap,” said that officer, with a queer grimace and a swift glance at the young lady, whose face had paled again to the lips at this new anxiety.

“Oh, are they?” she asked, with a troubled look at the Captain.

“No, Miss Laura,” he said sadly; “they’re torpedo boats. That’s why the cruiser let us slip. They mean to take this boat without injury to her or us, and they’ve got us in a trap.”

Chapter Six.A Narrow Escape.Torpedo boats! Two insignificant smudges of black, lifting and bowing like a couple of dingy sea-birds in a waste of waters, wretched little things that could be stowed away on the promenade deck of a mail steamer, and yet the appearance of one of them among a fleet of heavy ironclads would create as much consternation as a gadfly among a mob of cattle.On came these mosquitoes of the navy, with nothing to distinguish one from the other but a white number on the black funnel, and the honest merchant seamen on the bridge of theSwiftalmost shuddered at the sight, recognising in them the incarnation of stealth and mischief. The torpedo-catcher, however, abated nothing of her speed. Was she not, after all, built to destroy these venomous midgets of the ocean? They were her game, and a brawny-armed seaman growled out his opinion of the relative fighting values of the crafts.“Sink the little brutes,” he said, shooting a squirt of tobacco juice; “run over ’em, blow ’em up, send them to—”His deep voice swelled from a murmur to a shout, and a melancholy seaman at the wheel nodded his head vigorously in hearty approval.The first officer winked at Frank and pushed his big oilskin cap over his head.“What an almighty smash there would be if the Captain gave the word. We’d sink the torpedo boats and the cruiser would sink us.”Frank began tugging at his small moustache as the unreasoning fighting impulse seized hold of him. He forgot that his own countrymen were the objects of his increasing animosity. Underneath his feet he felt the quiver of the deck as the long vessel darted along, and the speed affected him with the same exaltation that boils through the blood of a cavalry-man when his horse has got into the desperate swing of the charge.“Clear the gun for action,” shouted the Captain; and Webster, at the order, sprang over the bridge to the deck. Four men were at his side, the tarpaulin flew off, and the long black gun emerged.Frank drew closer to the young lady. “Won’t you come below?” he said.She did not hear, and he touched her with his hand.She turned her eyes on him, magnificent and wild.“Had you not better come below?”She shook off his hand with an impatient gesture.The long gun was already charged, and Webster stood by whistling, his hand ready to touch her off.“Send the shot over that boat on the port side. Make it a close call, and she’ll shear off.”Webster climbed up on the butt of his gun, took a long glance over the grey waters at the black funnel that alone showed, and without troubling himself about the reckonings for range finding, ventured an opinion:“Is she a mile?”“About that, sir,” growled the big Quartermaster, Black Henderson.Webster jumped down, and, with a smile on his face, fired the gun.There was a deafening report, which shivered the glass in the chart-room, and when they drove through the smoke, and steadied themselves after the shock, they caught faintly the scream of the shell, and saw it stream high above the black boat.“That’ll scare the life out of them,” growled a sailor, with a chuckle.He forgot that there were men after his own metal on board, and the little boat paid not the least attention to the warning.A little patch of red instead streamed out from her bare pole of a mast, the meteor flag of Old England, which no British seaman can see without a glow of pride, and a look of consternation came into their faces.They had forgotten about the cruiser steaming in their wake, showing nothing now but its white fighting deck, surmounted by two huge funnels; but she kept a watchful eye on the swift catcher, and at the audacious act of hostility had bristled with anger. Two small bow chasers projecting from the bulge in her bows spoke together, and a sharp reminder in the shape of a nine-pounder went screaming over the low craft, to plunge in the sea a cable’s length ahead, while the second, in a sort of devil’s “duck-and-drake” hops, sped away.Captain Pardoe turned swiftly, and shook his fist at the cruiser.Miss Laura had ducked her head at the vicious scream of one shot, and started aside at the angry splash and wild screech of the other, then stood trembling from head to foot while she bit her lip in vexation at her weakness.Captain Pardoe noted her emotion, and swallowing his own rage, said gruffly:“Shall we give in, mam?”“No,” she said; “take no notice of me, please. Keep right on, Captain. Even if we are hit, our machinery may escape injury. You know what there is at stake, and if—if I am—if anything happens to me, promise me you will do your best.”For answer Captain Pardoe took her hand, and raised it to his lips.“Now,” said he gruffly, “you must go below.”“I cannot; you must not ask me; you are endangering your lives for me, and I must be with you.”“Mr Hume, please take this lady to the saloon; and hark you, sir,” he added in a whisper, “lock her in.”Frank looked at the young lady in dismay, and she, betwixt surprise at the order and indignation at the intended affront, stood silent.“Do you hear me, sir?”There was a dull report from the stern, and again there came that nerve-shaking scream.Frank seized the lady in his arms, lifted her up, and staggered towards the steps.“Put me down,” she gasped.At the steps he put her down, and, with tears of mortification in her eyes, she soundly boxed his ears, then went down the steps to the deck, and into the saloon, while he stood with a curious feeling that what he had done bound her to him.“What’s the matter with your cheek?” said Webster, coming up; “seems to be redder on one side than the other. There, now, don’t get angry. Lord love you, I’d sooner face that cruiser than attempt to carry the Commodore; but I thank you for it, my son. The sight of her up here put my heart in my mouth. Are you going to run ’em down, sir, or blow ’em up?”The Captain had his glass to his eye again, and held it there for some time, slowly sweeping the sea.“Neither, Mr Webster,” he said finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, “I am going to steam at half-speed.”He signalled to the engine-room.“Hoist the distress signal, Mr Webster, that’ll serve the purpose.”“Do I understand, Captain Pardee, that you intend to give this vessel up?”“Understand what you like, my lad, but do what I order.”The ship had got a tremendous way on, but she perceptibly slackened speed, and the sailors, noticing this, got together in a group, directing surly glances at the bridge.Webster folded his arms, and faced the Captain.“Do you mean to surrender this ship, Captain Pardoe?”“And if I do so intend, what then?”“Why, then, I’ll take command.”“The devil!” said the Captain, making a step forward, grasping his long glass as a cudgel. A moment they faced each other; then a grim smile hovered about the Captain’s thin lips. “You’re a queer fellow, Jim, and a mutinous one; and I don’t know why I should waste words over you. Take this glass and look over that boat on the starboard.”Webster, with a keen glance at his captain, did as he was told.“Well, what do you see?”“I see a mast with cross-trees.”“Can you see the hull or rigging below the yards?”“No, sir, there’s a layer of fog.”“Ah, now, bend the flag on.”Webster took another look at the Captain, then bent the Union Jack reversed to the peak.They looked at the cruiser, and she at once signalled the torpedo boats, which simultaneously turned almost in their own lengths, and one on each bow, steamed a quarter of a mile in advance.The cruiser came on hand over hand, and Captain Pardee’s glance turned repeatedly from her to the grey belt ahead.He touched the bell, and the catcher responded with slightly increased speed, which soon brought her within hail of the torpedo boats.An officer on the port boat, clad from head to foot in oils, all glistening with wet, leant over the bridge, and through his hollowed hands called, “Slacken speed, sir!”“All right; what’s the fuss about?”“Slacken speed!”“So I am.”There came a hail from the starboard boat.“Make away, Number 4; the cruiser will settle this matter.”The cruiser was signalling again, and the torpedo boats began to shear off.Captain Pardoe measured the distance to the fog, and called on the engineer for full speed; and before the torpedo boats had got well out of reach of the cruiser’s guns, had she then opened fire, theSwiftdarted by them. When she was out of the range of their torpedoes, had they resolved to fire, he gave one of them his wash, placing it between him and the cruiser, and thus attaining his object, which was to stop the cruiser’s fire until he could make a dash for the shelter of the fog.This feat was greeted with a ringing shout from the crew, and the men shot admiring glances at the Captain.

Torpedo boats! Two insignificant smudges of black, lifting and bowing like a couple of dingy sea-birds in a waste of waters, wretched little things that could be stowed away on the promenade deck of a mail steamer, and yet the appearance of one of them among a fleet of heavy ironclads would create as much consternation as a gadfly among a mob of cattle.

On came these mosquitoes of the navy, with nothing to distinguish one from the other but a white number on the black funnel, and the honest merchant seamen on the bridge of theSwiftalmost shuddered at the sight, recognising in them the incarnation of stealth and mischief. The torpedo-catcher, however, abated nothing of her speed. Was she not, after all, built to destroy these venomous midgets of the ocean? They were her game, and a brawny-armed seaman growled out his opinion of the relative fighting values of the crafts.

“Sink the little brutes,” he said, shooting a squirt of tobacco juice; “run over ’em, blow ’em up, send them to—”

His deep voice swelled from a murmur to a shout, and a melancholy seaman at the wheel nodded his head vigorously in hearty approval.

The first officer winked at Frank and pushed his big oilskin cap over his head.

“What an almighty smash there would be if the Captain gave the word. We’d sink the torpedo boats and the cruiser would sink us.”

Frank began tugging at his small moustache as the unreasoning fighting impulse seized hold of him. He forgot that his own countrymen were the objects of his increasing animosity. Underneath his feet he felt the quiver of the deck as the long vessel darted along, and the speed affected him with the same exaltation that boils through the blood of a cavalry-man when his horse has got into the desperate swing of the charge.

“Clear the gun for action,” shouted the Captain; and Webster, at the order, sprang over the bridge to the deck. Four men were at his side, the tarpaulin flew off, and the long black gun emerged.

Frank drew closer to the young lady. “Won’t you come below?” he said.

She did not hear, and he touched her with his hand.

She turned her eyes on him, magnificent and wild.

“Had you not better come below?”

She shook off his hand with an impatient gesture.

The long gun was already charged, and Webster stood by whistling, his hand ready to touch her off.

“Send the shot over that boat on the port side. Make it a close call, and she’ll shear off.”

Webster climbed up on the butt of his gun, took a long glance over the grey waters at the black funnel that alone showed, and without troubling himself about the reckonings for range finding, ventured an opinion:

“Is she a mile?”

“About that, sir,” growled the big Quartermaster, Black Henderson.

Webster jumped down, and, with a smile on his face, fired the gun.

There was a deafening report, which shivered the glass in the chart-room, and when they drove through the smoke, and steadied themselves after the shock, they caught faintly the scream of the shell, and saw it stream high above the black boat.

“That’ll scare the life out of them,” growled a sailor, with a chuckle.

He forgot that there were men after his own metal on board, and the little boat paid not the least attention to the warning.

A little patch of red instead streamed out from her bare pole of a mast, the meteor flag of Old England, which no British seaman can see without a glow of pride, and a look of consternation came into their faces.

They had forgotten about the cruiser steaming in their wake, showing nothing now but its white fighting deck, surmounted by two huge funnels; but she kept a watchful eye on the swift catcher, and at the audacious act of hostility had bristled with anger. Two small bow chasers projecting from the bulge in her bows spoke together, and a sharp reminder in the shape of a nine-pounder went screaming over the low craft, to plunge in the sea a cable’s length ahead, while the second, in a sort of devil’s “duck-and-drake” hops, sped away.

Captain Pardoe turned swiftly, and shook his fist at the cruiser.

Miss Laura had ducked her head at the vicious scream of one shot, and started aside at the angry splash and wild screech of the other, then stood trembling from head to foot while she bit her lip in vexation at her weakness.

Captain Pardoe noted her emotion, and swallowing his own rage, said gruffly:

“Shall we give in, mam?”

“No,” she said; “take no notice of me, please. Keep right on, Captain. Even if we are hit, our machinery may escape injury. You know what there is at stake, and if—if I am—if anything happens to me, promise me you will do your best.”

For answer Captain Pardoe took her hand, and raised it to his lips.

“Now,” said he gruffly, “you must go below.”

“I cannot; you must not ask me; you are endangering your lives for me, and I must be with you.”

“Mr Hume, please take this lady to the saloon; and hark you, sir,” he added in a whisper, “lock her in.”

Frank looked at the young lady in dismay, and she, betwixt surprise at the order and indignation at the intended affront, stood silent.

“Do you hear me, sir?”

There was a dull report from the stern, and again there came that nerve-shaking scream.

Frank seized the lady in his arms, lifted her up, and staggered towards the steps.

“Put me down,” she gasped.

At the steps he put her down, and, with tears of mortification in her eyes, she soundly boxed his ears, then went down the steps to the deck, and into the saloon, while he stood with a curious feeling that what he had done bound her to him.

“What’s the matter with your cheek?” said Webster, coming up; “seems to be redder on one side than the other. There, now, don’t get angry. Lord love you, I’d sooner face that cruiser than attempt to carry the Commodore; but I thank you for it, my son. The sight of her up here put my heart in my mouth. Are you going to run ’em down, sir, or blow ’em up?”

The Captain had his glass to his eye again, and held it there for some time, slowly sweeping the sea.

“Neither, Mr Webster,” he said finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, “I am going to steam at half-speed.”

He signalled to the engine-room.

“Hoist the distress signal, Mr Webster, that’ll serve the purpose.”

“Do I understand, Captain Pardee, that you intend to give this vessel up?”

“Understand what you like, my lad, but do what I order.”

The ship had got a tremendous way on, but she perceptibly slackened speed, and the sailors, noticing this, got together in a group, directing surly glances at the bridge.

Webster folded his arms, and faced the Captain.

“Do you mean to surrender this ship, Captain Pardoe?”

“And if I do so intend, what then?”

“Why, then, I’ll take command.”

“The devil!” said the Captain, making a step forward, grasping his long glass as a cudgel. A moment they faced each other; then a grim smile hovered about the Captain’s thin lips. “You’re a queer fellow, Jim, and a mutinous one; and I don’t know why I should waste words over you. Take this glass and look over that boat on the starboard.”

Webster, with a keen glance at his captain, did as he was told.

“Well, what do you see?”

“I see a mast with cross-trees.”

“Can you see the hull or rigging below the yards?”

“No, sir, there’s a layer of fog.”

“Ah, now, bend the flag on.”

Webster took another look at the Captain, then bent the Union Jack reversed to the peak.

They looked at the cruiser, and she at once signalled the torpedo boats, which simultaneously turned almost in their own lengths, and one on each bow, steamed a quarter of a mile in advance.

The cruiser came on hand over hand, and Captain Pardee’s glance turned repeatedly from her to the grey belt ahead.

He touched the bell, and the catcher responded with slightly increased speed, which soon brought her within hail of the torpedo boats.

An officer on the port boat, clad from head to foot in oils, all glistening with wet, leant over the bridge, and through his hollowed hands called, “Slacken speed, sir!”

“All right; what’s the fuss about?”

“Slacken speed!”

“So I am.”

There came a hail from the starboard boat.

“Make away, Number 4; the cruiser will settle this matter.”

The cruiser was signalling again, and the torpedo boats began to shear off.

Captain Pardoe measured the distance to the fog, and called on the engineer for full speed; and before the torpedo boats had got well out of reach of the cruiser’s guns, had she then opened fire, theSwiftdarted by them. When she was out of the range of their torpedoes, had they resolved to fire, he gave one of them his wash, placing it between him and the cruiser, and thus attaining his object, which was to stop the cruiser’s fire until he could make a dash for the shelter of the fog.

This feat was greeted with a ringing shout from the crew, and the men shot admiring glances at the Captain.

Chapter Seven.Object of the Voyage.Into the welcome security of the fog they plunged, and dashed on impetuously, regardless of danger to themselves or other ships from collision, and heedless of the rules about half-speed.“Now is our chance!” growled the Captain, “and we’ll not lose it. If the fog’s only deep enough the cruiser will not see us again this side the Atlantic.”The fog closed round in damp clinging wraiths, affecting everyone not only with an acute feeling of discomfort, but with a sense of impending misfortune. The sea, visible only for a few yards, came with a heave out of the white bank and went by into mysterious obscurity with a subdued swish, while the ship went on wailing hoarsely. Those on deck thrust their hands deep into their pockets, hunched their shoulders, and stared with white faces at the drifting mists and the beads of wet on the ropes. Between the hoarse, choking cries of the foghorn there was a heavy silence, in which the ear was strained to detect some sound of life beyond the impenetrable cloak, and the silence was unbroken by any word or motion, for each man stood where he was when the ship dashed into this mantle of death—an obscurity that is worse than the blackest of southern midnights, and is more dreaded by the mariner than the sound of breakers on a lee shore. A seagull appearing out of nowhere, swooped upon the ship with a startling cry, and disappeared like a wraith of fog more solid than the other gliding and twisting coils of mist. And the steamer plunged on, wailing and roaring in an ecstasy of mingled fear and rage as though it also felt the depressing influence. Each one was impressed with an actual sense of insecurity in the headlong speed of the craft; the vibration from the stroke of the engines appeared too great for the stability of the frame; the dip and roll seemed to be at a perilous angle, and dark forms shaped themselves ahead, threatening the horrors of a collision. These, it is true, melted away, being but darker masses of fog, charged, probably, with imprisoned volumes of smoke from another steamer; but the presence of this smoke, judged soon for what it was by its acrid smell, disclosed the imminence of the very danger they had anticipated. At any moment there might loom out of the mist a solid mass in place of these darker patches, and at the speed they were going nothing could prevent the shock and dread disaster of a collision.“Keep a good lookout forward, Mr Webster,” sang out the Captain, in tones that were muffled as though he were calling from a well.“We are doing that, sir,” said Webster, who had gone forward as soon as the fog bank was entered; “but the spray is blinding.”The Captain growled under his breath, poked his nose against the binnacle, and then glanced into the driving mist overhead.“It’s lightening above, Mr Hume, eh?”“Yes, sir; but there appears to be a strong streamer of smoke on the port side.”“Ay, I noticed it before; but it certainly is thicker. I’ll give ’em a call.”The steamer’s siren sent forth a rending cry from its brazen throat.Almost immediately there came a response—a wild, hoarse roar terminating in a frantic screech.“Where away, Mr Webster?”“Port, sir.”“Starboard, sir.”“Dead ahead!” were the conflicting cries.The siren flung another wild cry into the wet gloom—a cry that was at once imploring, menacing, and complaining.It was answered again by a roar as of a great sea beast in fear of pain.Then followed a deep silence, while every man strained his eyes.At the same instant they saw her, a great mass looming out suddenly just ahead.“Starboard!” shouted the Captain, in a voice of thunder.TheSwiftleant over as she answered to her helm. There was a noise of shouting from the towering decks of the strange steamer, a feeling of impending doom, as her iron side rolled over towards the low craft, but next instant she was swallowed up in the gloom astern.The Captain drew a long breath, and the men turned and looked at each other in silence, their faces still white and fixed.“That was a close shave, Mr Hume?”“Yes, sir,” said Frank, wiping his forehead; “I’d rather be in daylight with the cruiser opening fire than pass through such a moment again.”“Ay, my lad, it was touch and go, and by the mercy of a good seaman at the wheel we didn’t touch.”Webster came with a swing up the steps, and clapped Frank on the back.“I told you she’d drown you before you’d have done with her.”“Well, I’m not drowned yet.”“No; but, by gum, you were near it! Did you see the cook’s face at the gangway when we rushed by? Lord, I nearly died with laughter at his sudden gasp, and I shouldn’t wonder but he’s got his mouth open yet. By the way, the Commodore’s down at the cuddy door, and by the same token she’s got her mouth open in surprise. Why not go down and tell her the news?”Frank accepted the hint, and very soon was beside a tall figure, dimly seen in the shadow of the door; but, having got so far, he was at a loss to proceed. It was a stilted form of address to call her “madam;” “Miss Laura” was at once too familiar, and smacked of servility. Why had they not told him her name and have done with it; why, in fact, could she not tell it him herself? Having now mastered his first boyish fears and awe of her beauty, and warmly conscious that he stood on a different footing to her since he had boldly lifted her in his arms, he determined to brush away the mystery which hedged her in.“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but I hope you will forgive me for obeying the Captain’s orders just now.”“Ah! is that you, Mr Hume? Can you tell me how we are getting on, since I am not able to judge for myself?” She spoke gently, and he caught the gleam of a smile.“You must admit that, though the Captain was somewhat peremptory, the necessity was urgent.”“And you must admit, Mr Hume, that he was obeyed with singular promptitude, which told of distinct pleasure on your part at the prospect of relieving the bridge of my presence. But still, you have not told me of our position.”“We are well away from the cruiser, and when we have pierced this bank of fog, which we may do soon, as it is growing lighter, we should be free from danger of pursuit. Pray, however, do not think that we wished to keep the bridge to ourselves, and if I was presumptuous to act promptly, it was because I was anxious for your safety. You have not said whether you forgive me?”“Is my safety, then, of any interest to you?” she said, turning her eyes upon him, and laying a hand upon his arm with the look and action of a born coquette.“Not with me only,” he said earnestly, “but, if a new shipmate may say so, with every member of the crew. Mr Webster told me his heart was in his mouth when he saw you in danger.”“He is a brave fellow,” she said softly, “and modest with it all—a man who would give his life with a smile for anyone he liked. It sometimes distresses me to think that I should have led him and the others upon this venture, dangerous as it must be.”“Will you share in the danger?”“Assuredly. This boat is mine. I had bought it when it was seized by the Customs. The enterprise is of my planning, and what danger there is will be shared by me.” She lifted her head as she spoke.“Why should you venture upon anything that brings danger to yourself? Surely you have friends, relatives, who would have acted for you?”She stood silent for some time, and looked at him curiously for his boldness.“I have only one relative, Mr Hume, and he is my father, a prisoner in the hands of Balmaceda. It is to rescue him that I have risked the passage of the Thames, and if I cannot save his life I will die with him.” There was subdued passion in her voice, and her hands were clenched.“Your father a prisoner in Brazil! How can they imprison an Englishman?”“He is no Englishman. My father is Manuel da Gama Lobo de Anstrade, Colonel in the Army, and member of a noble Spanish family, treacherously seized by that ruffian President.”“But you—surely you are of English descent?”“My mother was English, Mr Hume, and I have been educated in England.” She paused for some moments, then continued quickly: “I have told you more than is known by any on board, except Mr Commins and Captain Pardoe. But I am seldom misled, and I am sure you will respect my confidence.”“I will, Miss de Anstrade.”“You must not mention my name. If you knew the Brazilians you would understand. Were this ship to fall into the hands of the President’s party, and my name were discovered, there would be little mercy shown. Ah! what fiendish punishment they can devise! Luiz, my brother, they made him walk blindfolded over the precipice at Garanagua.”She spoke scarcely above a whisper, but with an intentness that thrilled her listener, and her eyes were fixed before her, wide open and gleaming. He had seen that look before, as she stood on the bridge gazing into the tossing seas ahead, and yet seeing nothing. Now he knew that a terrible picture was before her eyes.Instinctively he took her hand.“I am grieved I should have awakened these memories,” he said gently.“You have not awakened them, my friend; they are burnt in.”He stood there in silence, holding her hand, which was like a lump of ice in his warm grasp, and which she allowed to remain there, unconscious of his touch. He could mark the hollow under her eyes, the lines of pain between her dark brows, and he sighed.She sighed too; her mind came back from its troubled wanderings in the far Brazil, and she looked down at her hand, drawing it away, and regarding him with haughty disfavour.“I am sorry,” he said.“You are strangely daring, Mr Hume.”“My thought was to show my sympathy, and I could not find words.”“It is true. You English are slow of speech, but quick to act. That is why, in this matter, I am trusting to my mother’s countrymen.”“Will you trust me also, my Captain?”“You! But we are to land you at Madeira.”“I am in your service already for a time; will you not engage me permanently?”“But you do not understand. We cannot hope to escape the Brazilian warships without a fight, and they are but the first of the dangers to be met and overcome.”“And yet you will face those dangers?”“For my father’s freedom!”“But Mr Webster, Captain Pardoe, these sailors, what of them?”“They are men accustomed to danger; they know the risks they run, and are satisfied with their reward.”He flushed at this plain speech, but continued:“And yet a few hours ago you urged me to help you?”“And you at first declined?”“I knew nothing then; but now you have taken me into your confidence, and I would be a poor thing, indeed, if I were to step ashore at the first opportunity. I may not be able to do much, but—”“You will see I do not run into needless danger—is that it, Mr Hume?” she said, with a smile. “I accept your services, sir,” she added slowly; “but I do so with a sadness at my heart that warns me of impending trouble. I hope it bodes no ill to you. My mind is fixed upon this enterprise; but, oh! often in the night my heart is heavy with forebodings, so that I could abandon myself to the relief of womanly tears, if I only dared. It is not an easy task, this,” she went on, with a tremble in her voice, “for a girl to be alone among strange men; but my father, pale and stern, beckons me on, and my brother—oh, my brother!”Her voice gave way, and she put her hand to her eyes; then, as he stood by pale, distressed, with an oppression in his throat, she thrust her hand forth with a wild gesture, and swept by him to the bridge. Frank stood awhile, then went slowly forward.When, with a start, he came out of his reverie, it was to find the ship free of the fog, and dashing along in the grey of the evening towards the golden glory of an exquisite sunset. The sea stretched away to where glowed a rim of molten gold upon the horizon; and from this glowing band there shot streaks of fire into the sky, and rippling bars of silver on the waters, while the deepening dusk turned the blue of the ocean to a wonderful hue, shading from grey to deep black.

Into the welcome security of the fog they plunged, and dashed on impetuously, regardless of danger to themselves or other ships from collision, and heedless of the rules about half-speed.

“Now is our chance!” growled the Captain, “and we’ll not lose it. If the fog’s only deep enough the cruiser will not see us again this side the Atlantic.”

The fog closed round in damp clinging wraiths, affecting everyone not only with an acute feeling of discomfort, but with a sense of impending misfortune. The sea, visible only for a few yards, came with a heave out of the white bank and went by into mysterious obscurity with a subdued swish, while the ship went on wailing hoarsely. Those on deck thrust their hands deep into their pockets, hunched their shoulders, and stared with white faces at the drifting mists and the beads of wet on the ropes. Between the hoarse, choking cries of the foghorn there was a heavy silence, in which the ear was strained to detect some sound of life beyond the impenetrable cloak, and the silence was unbroken by any word or motion, for each man stood where he was when the ship dashed into this mantle of death—an obscurity that is worse than the blackest of southern midnights, and is more dreaded by the mariner than the sound of breakers on a lee shore. A seagull appearing out of nowhere, swooped upon the ship with a startling cry, and disappeared like a wraith of fog more solid than the other gliding and twisting coils of mist. And the steamer plunged on, wailing and roaring in an ecstasy of mingled fear and rage as though it also felt the depressing influence. Each one was impressed with an actual sense of insecurity in the headlong speed of the craft; the vibration from the stroke of the engines appeared too great for the stability of the frame; the dip and roll seemed to be at a perilous angle, and dark forms shaped themselves ahead, threatening the horrors of a collision. These, it is true, melted away, being but darker masses of fog, charged, probably, with imprisoned volumes of smoke from another steamer; but the presence of this smoke, judged soon for what it was by its acrid smell, disclosed the imminence of the very danger they had anticipated. At any moment there might loom out of the mist a solid mass in place of these darker patches, and at the speed they were going nothing could prevent the shock and dread disaster of a collision.

“Keep a good lookout forward, Mr Webster,” sang out the Captain, in tones that were muffled as though he were calling from a well.

“We are doing that, sir,” said Webster, who had gone forward as soon as the fog bank was entered; “but the spray is blinding.”

The Captain growled under his breath, poked his nose against the binnacle, and then glanced into the driving mist overhead.

“It’s lightening above, Mr Hume, eh?”

“Yes, sir; but there appears to be a strong streamer of smoke on the port side.”

“Ay, I noticed it before; but it certainly is thicker. I’ll give ’em a call.”

The steamer’s siren sent forth a rending cry from its brazen throat.

Almost immediately there came a response—a wild, hoarse roar terminating in a frantic screech.

“Where away, Mr Webster?”

“Port, sir.”

“Starboard, sir.”

“Dead ahead!” were the conflicting cries.

The siren flung another wild cry into the wet gloom—a cry that was at once imploring, menacing, and complaining.

It was answered again by a roar as of a great sea beast in fear of pain.

Then followed a deep silence, while every man strained his eyes.

At the same instant they saw her, a great mass looming out suddenly just ahead.

“Starboard!” shouted the Captain, in a voice of thunder.

TheSwiftleant over as she answered to her helm. There was a noise of shouting from the towering decks of the strange steamer, a feeling of impending doom, as her iron side rolled over towards the low craft, but next instant she was swallowed up in the gloom astern.

The Captain drew a long breath, and the men turned and looked at each other in silence, their faces still white and fixed.

“That was a close shave, Mr Hume?”

“Yes, sir,” said Frank, wiping his forehead; “I’d rather be in daylight with the cruiser opening fire than pass through such a moment again.”

“Ay, my lad, it was touch and go, and by the mercy of a good seaman at the wheel we didn’t touch.”

Webster came with a swing up the steps, and clapped Frank on the back.

“I told you she’d drown you before you’d have done with her.”

“Well, I’m not drowned yet.”

“No; but, by gum, you were near it! Did you see the cook’s face at the gangway when we rushed by? Lord, I nearly died with laughter at his sudden gasp, and I shouldn’t wonder but he’s got his mouth open yet. By the way, the Commodore’s down at the cuddy door, and by the same token she’s got her mouth open in surprise. Why not go down and tell her the news?”

Frank accepted the hint, and very soon was beside a tall figure, dimly seen in the shadow of the door; but, having got so far, he was at a loss to proceed. It was a stilted form of address to call her “madam;” “Miss Laura” was at once too familiar, and smacked of servility. Why had they not told him her name and have done with it; why, in fact, could she not tell it him herself? Having now mastered his first boyish fears and awe of her beauty, and warmly conscious that he stood on a different footing to her since he had boldly lifted her in his arms, he determined to brush away the mystery which hedged her in.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but I hope you will forgive me for obeying the Captain’s orders just now.”

“Ah! is that you, Mr Hume? Can you tell me how we are getting on, since I am not able to judge for myself?” She spoke gently, and he caught the gleam of a smile.

“You must admit that, though the Captain was somewhat peremptory, the necessity was urgent.”

“And you must admit, Mr Hume, that he was obeyed with singular promptitude, which told of distinct pleasure on your part at the prospect of relieving the bridge of my presence. But still, you have not told me of our position.”

“We are well away from the cruiser, and when we have pierced this bank of fog, which we may do soon, as it is growing lighter, we should be free from danger of pursuit. Pray, however, do not think that we wished to keep the bridge to ourselves, and if I was presumptuous to act promptly, it was because I was anxious for your safety. You have not said whether you forgive me?”

“Is my safety, then, of any interest to you?” she said, turning her eyes upon him, and laying a hand upon his arm with the look and action of a born coquette.

“Not with me only,” he said earnestly, “but, if a new shipmate may say so, with every member of the crew. Mr Webster told me his heart was in his mouth when he saw you in danger.”

“He is a brave fellow,” she said softly, “and modest with it all—a man who would give his life with a smile for anyone he liked. It sometimes distresses me to think that I should have led him and the others upon this venture, dangerous as it must be.”

“Will you share in the danger?”

“Assuredly. This boat is mine. I had bought it when it was seized by the Customs. The enterprise is of my planning, and what danger there is will be shared by me.” She lifted her head as she spoke.

“Why should you venture upon anything that brings danger to yourself? Surely you have friends, relatives, who would have acted for you?”

She stood silent for some time, and looked at him curiously for his boldness.

“I have only one relative, Mr Hume, and he is my father, a prisoner in the hands of Balmaceda. It is to rescue him that I have risked the passage of the Thames, and if I cannot save his life I will die with him.” There was subdued passion in her voice, and her hands were clenched.

“Your father a prisoner in Brazil! How can they imprison an Englishman?”

“He is no Englishman. My father is Manuel da Gama Lobo de Anstrade, Colonel in the Army, and member of a noble Spanish family, treacherously seized by that ruffian President.”

“But you—surely you are of English descent?”

“My mother was English, Mr Hume, and I have been educated in England.” She paused for some moments, then continued quickly: “I have told you more than is known by any on board, except Mr Commins and Captain Pardoe. But I am seldom misled, and I am sure you will respect my confidence.”

“I will, Miss de Anstrade.”

“You must not mention my name. If you knew the Brazilians you would understand. Were this ship to fall into the hands of the President’s party, and my name were discovered, there would be little mercy shown. Ah! what fiendish punishment they can devise! Luiz, my brother, they made him walk blindfolded over the precipice at Garanagua.”

She spoke scarcely above a whisper, but with an intentness that thrilled her listener, and her eyes were fixed before her, wide open and gleaming. He had seen that look before, as she stood on the bridge gazing into the tossing seas ahead, and yet seeing nothing. Now he knew that a terrible picture was before her eyes.

Instinctively he took her hand.

“I am grieved I should have awakened these memories,” he said gently.

“You have not awakened them, my friend; they are burnt in.”

He stood there in silence, holding her hand, which was like a lump of ice in his warm grasp, and which she allowed to remain there, unconscious of his touch. He could mark the hollow under her eyes, the lines of pain between her dark brows, and he sighed.

She sighed too; her mind came back from its troubled wanderings in the far Brazil, and she looked down at her hand, drawing it away, and regarding him with haughty disfavour.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“You are strangely daring, Mr Hume.”

“My thought was to show my sympathy, and I could not find words.”

“It is true. You English are slow of speech, but quick to act. That is why, in this matter, I am trusting to my mother’s countrymen.”

“Will you trust me also, my Captain?”

“You! But we are to land you at Madeira.”

“I am in your service already for a time; will you not engage me permanently?”

“But you do not understand. We cannot hope to escape the Brazilian warships without a fight, and they are but the first of the dangers to be met and overcome.”

“And yet you will face those dangers?”

“For my father’s freedom!”

“But Mr Webster, Captain Pardoe, these sailors, what of them?”

“They are men accustomed to danger; they know the risks they run, and are satisfied with their reward.”

He flushed at this plain speech, but continued:

“And yet a few hours ago you urged me to help you?”

“And you at first declined?”

“I knew nothing then; but now you have taken me into your confidence, and I would be a poor thing, indeed, if I were to step ashore at the first opportunity. I may not be able to do much, but—”

“You will see I do not run into needless danger—is that it, Mr Hume?” she said, with a smile. “I accept your services, sir,” she added slowly; “but I do so with a sadness at my heart that warns me of impending trouble. I hope it bodes no ill to you. My mind is fixed upon this enterprise; but, oh! often in the night my heart is heavy with forebodings, so that I could abandon myself to the relief of womanly tears, if I only dared. It is not an easy task, this,” she went on, with a tremble in her voice, “for a girl to be alone among strange men; but my father, pale and stern, beckons me on, and my brother—oh, my brother!”

Her voice gave way, and she put her hand to her eyes; then, as he stood by pale, distressed, with an oppression in his throat, she thrust her hand forth with a wild gesture, and swept by him to the bridge. Frank stood awhile, then went slowly forward.

When, with a start, he came out of his reverie, it was to find the ship free of the fog, and dashing along in the grey of the evening towards the golden glory of an exquisite sunset. The sea stretched away to where glowed a rim of molten gold upon the horizon; and from this glowing band there shot streaks of fire into the sky, and rippling bars of silver on the waters, while the deepening dusk turned the blue of the ocean to a wonderful hue, shading from grey to deep black.

Chapter Eight.Lieutenant Gobo.On the afternoon of the fourth day, with lockers almost exhausted of coal, they sighted the outposts of Madeira—jagged rocks, with the clearest of outlines—and made for Funchal with some apprehension as to their reception from the Portuguese.They had not passed scathless through the Bay. The funnels were coated with salt, the mark of a curling sea which had swept over the bows, and the starboard boat was missing. The deck was soaked, and grimy from coal-grit,—while all on board looked worn and unwashed, as though they had been without sleep, and, indeed, they had passed through a wearying time, tossed about like corks, compelled to hold on at every step, and drenched with spray. But though the catcher had plunged and rolled in a manner that tried the nerves of the oldest seaman, she had gone safely through those huge rollers, and they had learnt to trust in her. What they wanted now was her full capacity of coal, with some tons over for storage on the deck, to enable her to make the long passage to Rio, if possible. The question was, Had the Portuguese been warned by the Brazilian Consul in London, and would they give them coal?Very soon she was steering a course parallel to the vast slope of the Island, ploughing through waters of deepest violet. Innumerable little white houses dotted that seemingly inhospitable slope of coloured sandstone, many as the white crests of the waves, and each one of them when viewed through a glass was seen to be embedded in a wealth of vegetation. So steep was the slope, and so limited each settlement, that every bit of land was terraced, so that not one spadeful of the precious soil should escape. From where, at the foot, the slope terminated in a precipitous descent to the foaming wave, these terraces ascended like irregular steps far up to the heights. And there lived a frugal people, with that brilliant sea below them, and the blue, unclouded sky above, with the air tempered by the mists on the mountain ridge above to the most balmy softness, and with a soil, once saved and scraped together, that grew all they needed without much toil. Theirs is the life of repose, with grapes and bananas for their principal food, varied with onions and fish, and washed down with the wine of that iron soil.A slothful people, perhaps, but they have discovered the secret of living on the soil and out of the soil, developing the idle ruminating pleasures of sleek cattle; happy in their little houses, their tiny plots of fruitful ground; rich in their climate, and most fortunate in their situation. What to them the aspirations of the struggling hordes of Europe, the agonised cry of the hopeless poor of more powerful countries, the ambitions and the social schemes of the proud Northerners, but the echoes of a stormy life?TheSwiftrounded into Funchal Bay, and anchored in the calm waters, under the guns of a picturesque fort covered with green. The fires were raked out, and the long craft, weather-beaten and streaked with rust stains, was at rest—an object, however, of suspicion to the peaceful merchant-ships. A tug from the shore shot out, encircled the catcher, and returned in haste.“That doesn’t look friendly,” said Lieutenant Webster.“They’ve had notice to look out for us,” was the Captain’s comment. “It’s what I feared; but so long as they give us coal they may do what they like.”“There’s a boat putting off, sir—probably to warn us off.”“Well, we can’t go without coal, and if they won’t give it we’ll take it.”“Yes,” said Webster, looking reflectively at the fort.The boat approached within a ship’s length, and a fat man in uniform, who held the tiller, took a long look at theSwift, then made a signal, and was rowed back again.The fat man was met by a number of men in uniform, and after much gesticulation the whole party entered a larger boat, flying the Portuguese flag at the peak and stern, and with an awning aft.This time they came alongside, mounted the steps, and stood twirling their black moustaches, while their dark eyes roamed over the long deck.“Have I the pleasure of speaking to the Captain?” said the stout man, looking at a group of three.“I am the Captain.”“Ah! receive my respects. And the name of the ship?”“TheSwift—steam yacht.”“True, she has the appearance of a pleasure-boat. You intend, perhaps, to remain here? The Island of Madeira is very lovely.”“Yes,” said the Captain; “but not at present.”“You will be going on to Teneriffe?”“Doubtless; but we require coal. You have a good supply?”“Why not? But this small yacht would not require much for a cruise to the Canaries.”“About eight hundred tons, sir, is all we require.”“Eight hundred tons, sir? Very good. With that you could reach America, possibly Brazil. Is it not so?”Captain Pardoe bit his lip, while the stout man turned with a smile and a shrug to his companions, one of whom strolled leisurely forward.“Perhaps eight hundred tons is more than I require, especially as I could get more on my return,” said the Captain quietly.“I understand, sir; but that’s a matter of business arrangement with a coal-merchant. You have left England recently?”“Four days since.”“Four days—carambo—a quick passage! Then, sir, perhaps you can inform me of the progress of the revolution in Brazil. Have the rebels been beaten?”“I am afraid I can give you no information about Brazil.”“And you have not heard of the escape of a torpedo-catcher from the Thames, bound for Rio to help the rebels?”Captain Pardoe looked astonished.“You have surely been misinformed, señor. No vessel could get out of the Thames without the wish of the authorities.”“I assure you, my Captain, the impossible has happened, and, believe me, I first supposed your boat was that same vessel. Ha! ha!”“Ha! ha! what a good joke, señor!”“Is it not?” The officer who had walked forward returned, and whispered to the stout man. “But why, my Captain, do you carry a torpedo-tube and a heavy gun? Is it to shoot gulls? Ha! ha! I am afraid, Captain, you will not get your coal here, and that your visit may be prolonged to our satisfaction. You will find the island of Madeira lovely—most beautiful. In the meantime, I may introduce you to my friend Lieutenant Guilia Gobo, who will remain your guest with these soldiers.”The stout officer gave some order to his Lieutenant, and clambered down into his boat.“My Captain,” he said, with a pleased smile, “may I direct your attention to our powerful fort? We have there some heavy guns; oh, very formidable.” He sat down chuckling, and rubbing his knees.“The old boy is pleased with himself,” remarked Webster to Frank, who, together, had been amused spectators of the scene. “He euchred the Captain without trouble—an easy matter enough, by the way, in the face of that little weapon forward. Look at the skipper: dissimulation is not hisrôle.”Indeed, Captain Pardoe looked very black, as he confronted the Lieutenant and his four men.“Well, sir,” he said, “what is the meaning of your presence on board my ship?”“I no speak the Ingleese,” said the Lieutenant haughtily.“But he understands it well enough,” muttered Webster.“You don’t speak English; perhaps you will understand that I have enough coal to take me to Teneriffe, and I will leave in an hour. Up to that time you are welcome to the run of the ship, but you will find it agree ill with your uniform.”The Lieutenant turned sharply, and shouted after his superior officer.Captain Pardoe knitted his black brows, and was about to speak again, but turned to walk off, when he was joined by Frank.“I understood what he said, sir.”“So did I, Hume, but I don’t fear the fort’s guns. It is necessary to humour them, and with a little judicious palming we might win our object, but I have no genius for that work.”“May I try, sir?”“Certainly, Hume, do what you like, for at the worst we can throw them overboard.”“Then, sir, set the hands to clean the ship, and send Webster ashore to lay in a stock of vegetables, fruit, and fresh meat.”“Since when were you appointed purser, Mr Hume?”“It will show them you do not mean to leave in a hurry, and we’ll lull their suspicions.”The Captain issued his orders at once, and in a few minutes Webster, with the chief engineer, Mr Dixon, were being rowed ashore, while half a dozen salts, with bare legs, were turning the hose on the grimy deck, and the stokers, black almost as sweeps, came on deck to hang over the bows and pull at their well-seasoned clay pipes.Before Webster left, Hume had drawn his attention to two large barges laden with coal which were anchored to the left, and suggested that he should find out what coal they contained.He next dived into the main cabin, where he found Miss Laura and Mr Commins looking at the island through a port-hole. This was the first time Commins had emerged from his cabin, and though he bore traces of severe illness he was very spruce and neat in his dress, markedly so in contrast with the weather-stained appearance of the others.Their heads were very close together, and Commins had succeeded in making his companion laugh, a little circumstance which unduly nettled Hume.He secured some cigars, a bottle of wine, and was hurriedly leaving the cabin, when Miss Laura asked him a question or two concerning their position.“It is so annoying,” she added, “that I dare not show myself on board, as the people here are sure to communicate with their friends in Rio.”“I hope our young friend will be discreet,” said Commins, with irritating condescension in his manner. “Pray don’t leave the cigar-box open, otherwise the sea air will spoil the contents; and I see you have selected the choicest of the 1880 brand.”“These are for the Portuguese Lieutenant,” said Frank shortly.“An officer! What business has he on board?”“It appears they suspect us, and an officer, with four men, has been placed on guard.”“That means we have been seized,” said Commins, turning to Miss Anstrade. “I advised you not to run into a Portuguese port; but you would be guided by your headstrong Captain.”“There is no cause for fear,” replied Frank. “We hope to be off before morning with a full supply of fuel.”“Your hopes may be interesting to you, sir; but I, for my part, do not find them amusing.”“Enough!” interposed Laura with a frown; then, turning to Frank, she asked him if there really was any prospect of getting away.“There is, madam, if you have one commodity on board.”“What is that?”“Money!”“Ah! come with me,” and she started for the cabin.“Laura, don’t be imprudent. You forget.”“No, on the contrary, Mr Commins, I remember that this gentleman has behaved nobly, and risked his life while others remained in safety.”Mr Commins murmured something about being ill, but he shot an evil look at Frank.“Come, Mr Hume.”“No, madam; if you assure me, that is sufficient. It will be necessary to pay for the coal in cash.”“You have some scheme,” she said, looking earnestly at him, and placing her fingers on his arm.“I have, or, rather, the Captain—”“Ah, that is better,” said Commins, with a sneer.“Say no more, Mr Hume; I have faith in the resources and courage of my officers.” She gave him her hand, but her eyes were fixed on Commins.Frank, somewhat uneasy at what he had witnessed of the familiarity between the two, hurried away with the wine and cigars to presently engage the Lieutenant in pleasant conversation in French.Seeing the officer comfortably seated in the chart-room with the wine, he went to the side to receive Webster, who had returned in the best of humours with a boat-load of bananas, custard apples, grapes, vegetables, and fresh meat.“I have left the engineer ashore, drinking Madeira with an old crony,” shouted the genial officer.“Good,” said Frank, raising his voice. “I’ll ask the Captain to let me return for him later on. Well,” he whispered a moment later, as Webster stepped on board, “what about the barges?”“They have 300 tons, and are waiting out there for the Cape mail steamer, due early to-morrow morning.”“Well, the mail steamer will have to wait. That is our coal.”

On the afternoon of the fourth day, with lockers almost exhausted of coal, they sighted the outposts of Madeira—jagged rocks, with the clearest of outlines—and made for Funchal with some apprehension as to their reception from the Portuguese.

They had not passed scathless through the Bay. The funnels were coated with salt, the mark of a curling sea which had swept over the bows, and the starboard boat was missing. The deck was soaked, and grimy from coal-grit,—while all on board looked worn and unwashed, as though they had been without sleep, and, indeed, they had passed through a wearying time, tossed about like corks, compelled to hold on at every step, and drenched with spray. But though the catcher had plunged and rolled in a manner that tried the nerves of the oldest seaman, she had gone safely through those huge rollers, and they had learnt to trust in her. What they wanted now was her full capacity of coal, with some tons over for storage on the deck, to enable her to make the long passage to Rio, if possible. The question was, Had the Portuguese been warned by the Brazilian Consul in London, and would they give them coal?

Very soon she was steering a course parallel to the vast slope of the Island, ploughing through waters of deepest violet. Innumerable little white houses dotted that seemingly inhospitable slope of coloured sandstone, many as the white crests of the waves, and each one of them when viewed through a glass was seen to be embedded in a wealth of vegetation. So steep was the slope, and so limited each settlement, that every bit of land was terraced, so that not one spadeful of the precious soil should escape. From where, at the foot, the slope terminated in a precipitous descent to the foaming wave, these terraces ascended like irregular steps far up to the heights. And there lived a frugal people, with that brilliant sea below them, and the blue, unclouded sky above, with the air tempered by the mists on the mountain ridge above to the most balmy softness, and with a soil, once saved and scraped together, that grew all they needed without much toil. Theirs is the life of repose, with grapes and bananas for their principal food, varied with onions and fish, and washed down with the wine of that iron soil.

A slothful people, perhaps, but they have discovered the secret of living on the soil and out of the soil, developing the idle ruminating pleasures of sleek cattle; happy in their little houses, their tiny plots of fruitful ground; rich in their climate, and most fortunate in their situation. What to them the aspirations of the struggling hordes of Europe, the agonised cry of the hopeless poor of more powerful countries, the ambitions and the social schemes of the proud Northerners, but the echoes of a stormy life?

TheSwiftrounded into Funchal Bay, and anchored in the calm waters, under the guns of a picturesque fort covered with green. The fires were raked out, and the long craft, weather-beaten and streaked with rust stains, was at rest—an object, however, of suspicion to the peaceful merchant-ships. A tug from the shore shot out, encircled the catcher, and returned in haste.

“That doesn’t look friendly,” said Lieutenant Webster.

“They’ve had notice to look out for us,” was the Captain’s comment. “It’s what I feared; but so long as they give us coal they may do what they like.”

“There’s a boat putting off, sir—probably to warn us off.”

“Well, we can’t go without coal, and if they won’t give it we’ll take it.”

“Yes,” said Webster, looking reflectively at the fort.

The boat approached within a ship’s length, and a fat man in uniform, who held the tiller, took a long look at theSwift, then made a signal, and was rowed back again.

The fat man was met by a number of men in uniform, and after much gesticulation the whole party entered a larger boat, flying the Portuguese flag at the peak and stern, and with an awning aft.

This time they came alongside, mounted the steps, and stood twirling their black moustaches, while their dark eyes roamed over the long deck.

“Have I the pleasure of speaking to the Captain?” said the stout man, looking at a group of three.

“I am the Captain.”

“Ah! receive my respects. And the name of the ship?”

“TheSwift—steam yacht.”

“True, she has the appearance of a pleasure-boat. You intend, perhaps, to remain here? The Island of Madeira is very lovely.”

“Yes,” said the Captain; “but not at present.”

“You will be going on to Teneriffe?”

“Doubtless; but we require coal. You have a good supply?”

“Why not? But this small yacht would not require much for a cruise to the Canaries.”

“About eight hundred tons, sir, is all we require.”

“Eight hundred tons, sir? Very good. With that you could reach America, possibly Brazil. Is it not so?”

Captain Pardoe bit his lip, while the stout man turned with a smile and a shrug to his companions, one of whom strolled leisurely forward.

“Perhaps eight hundred tons is more than I require, especially as I could get more on my return,” said the Captain quietly.

“I understand, sir; but that’s a matter of business arrangement with a coal-merchant. You have left England recently?”

“Four days since.”

“Four days—carambo—a quick passage! Then, sir, perhaps you can inform me of the progress of the revolution in Brazil. Have the rebels been beaten?”

“I am afraid I can give you no information about Brazil.”

“And you have not heard of the escape of a torpedo-catcher from the Thames, bound for Rio to help the rebels?”

Captain Pardoe looked astonished.

“You have surely been misinformed, señor. No vessel could get out of the Thames without the wish of the authorities.”

“I assure you, my Captain, the impossible has happened, and, believe me, I first supposed your boat was that same vessel. Ha! ha!”

“Ha! ha! what a good joke, señor!”

“Is it not?” The officer who had walked forward returned, and whispered to the stout man. “But why, my Captain, do you carry a torpedo-tube and a heavy gun? Is it to shoot gulls? Ha! ha! I am afraid, Captain, you will not get your coal here, and that your visit may be prolonged to our satisfaction. You will find the island of Madeira lovely—most beautiful. In the meantime, I may introduce you to my friend Lieutenant Guilia Gobo, who will remain your guest with these soldiers.”

The stout officer gave some order to his Lieutenant, and clambered down into his boat.

“My Captain,” he said, with a pleased smile, “may I direct your attention to our powerful fort? We have there some heavy guns; oh, very formidable.” He sat down chuckling, and rubbing his knees.

“The old boy is pleased with himself,” remarked Webster to Frank, who, together, had been amused spectators of the scene. “He euchred the Captain without trouble—an easy matter enough, by the way, in the face of that little weapon forward. Look at the skipper: dissimulation is not hisrôle.”

Indeed, Captain Pardoe looked very black, as he confronted the Lieutenant and his four men.

“Well, sir,” he said, “what is the meaning of your presence on board my ship?”

“I no speak the Ingleese,” said the Lieutenant haughtily.

“But he understands it well enough,” muttered Webster.

“You don’t speak English; perhaps you will understand that I have enough coal to take me to Teneriffe, and I will leave in an hour. Up to that time you are welcome to the run of the ship, but you will find it agree ill with your uniform.”

The Lieutenant turned sharply, and shouted after his superior officer.

Captain Pardoe knitted his black brows, and was about to speak again, but turned to walk off, when he was joined by Frank.

“I understood what he said, sir.”

“So did I, Hume, but I don’t fear the fort’s guns. It is necessary to humour them, and with a little judicious palming we might win our object, but I have no genius for that work.”

“May I try, sir?”

“Certainly, Hume, do what you like, for at the worst we can throw them overboard.”

“Then, sir, set the hands to clean the ship, and send Webster ashore to lay in a stock of vegetables, fruit, and fresh meat.”

“Since when were you appointed purser, Mr Hume?”

“It will show them you do not mean to leave in a hurry, and we’ll lull their suspicions.”

The Captain issued his orders at once, and in a few minutes Webster, with the chief engineer, Mr Dixon, were being rowed ashore, while half a dozen salts, with bare legs, were turning the hose on the grimy deck, and the stokers, black almost as sweeps, came on deck to hang over the bows and pull at their well-seasoned clay pipes.

Before Webster left, Hume had drawn his attention to two large barges laden with coal which were anchored to the left, and suggested that he should find out what coal they contained.

He next dived into the main cabin, where he found Miss Laura and Mr Commins looking at the island through a port-hole. This was the first time Commins had emerged from his cabin, and though he bore traces of severe illness he was very spruce and neat in his dress, markedly so in contrast with the weather-stained appearance of the others.

Their heads were very close together, and Commins had succeeded in making his companion laugh, a little circumstance which unduly nettled Hume.

He secured some cigars, a bottle of wine, and was hurriedly leaving the cabin, when Miss Laura asked him a question or two concerning their position.

“It is so annoying,” she added, “that I dare not show myself on board, as the people here are sure to communicate with their friends in Rio.”

“I hope our young friend will be discreet,” said Commins, with irritating condescension in his manner. “Pray don’t leave the cigar-box open, otherwise the sea air will spoil the contents; and I see you have selected the choicest of the 1880 brand.”

“These are for the Portuguese Lieutenant,” said Frank shortly.

“An officer! What business has he on board?”

“It appears they suspect us, and an officer, with four men, has been placed on guard.”

“That means we have been seized,” said Commins, turning to Miss Anstrade. “I advised you not to run into a Portuguese port; but you would be guided by your headstrong Captain.”

“There is no cause for fear,” replied Frank. “We hope to be off before morning with a full supply of fuel.”

“Your hopes may be interesting to you, sir; but I, for my part, do not find them amusing.”

“Enough!” interposed Laura with a frown; then, turning to Frank, she asked him if there really was any prospect of getting away.

“There is, madam, if you have one commodity on board.”

“What is that?”

“Money!”

“Ah! come with me,” and she started for the cabin.

“Laura, don’t be imprudent. You forget.”

“No, on the contrary, Mr Commins, I remember that this gentleman has behaved nobly, and risked his life while others remained in safety.”

Mr Commins murmured something about being ill, but he shot an evil look at Frank.

“Come, Mr Hume.”

“No, madam; if you assure me, that is sufficient. It will be necessary to pay for the coal in cash.”

“You have some scheme,” she said, looking earnestly at him, and placing her fingers on his arm.

“I have, or, rather, the Captain—”

“Ah, that is better,” said Commins, with a sneer.

“Say no more, Mr Hume; I have faith in the resources and courage of my officers.” She gave him her hand, but her eyes were fixed on Commins.

Frank, somewhat uneasy at what he had witnessed of the familiarity between the two, hurried away with the wine and cigars to presently engage the Lieutenant in pleasant conversation in French.

Seeing the officer comfortably seated in the chart-room with the wine, he went to the side to receive Webster, who had returned in the best of humours with a boat-load of bananas, custard apples, grapes, vegetables, and fresh meat.

“I have left the engineer ashore, drinking Madeira with an old crony,” shouted the genial officer.

“Good,” said Frank, raising his voice. “I’ll ask the Captain to let me return for him later on. Well,” he whispered a moment later, as Webster stepped on board, “what about the barges?”

“They have 300 tons, and are waiting out there for the Cape mail steamer, due early to-morrow morning.”

“Well, the mail steamer will have to wait. That is our coal.”

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