The Two Admirals (60 page)

It was now nine o'clock, and it was not easy to distinguish objects on
the ocean, even as large as a ship, at the distance of half a league. By
the aid of the glasses, however, a vigilant look-out was kept on the
French vessels, which, by this time, were quite two leagues distant,
drawing more ahead. It was necessary to fill away, in order to close
with them, and a night-signal was made to that effect. The whole British
line braced forward their main-yards, as it might be, by a common
impulse, and had there been one there of sufficiently acute senses, he
might have heard all six of the main-top-sails flapping at the same
instant. As a matter of course the vessels started ahead, and, the order
being to follow the vice-admiral in a close line ahead, when the
Plantagenet edged off, so as to bring the wind abeam, each vessel did
the same, in succession, or as soon as in the commander-in-chief's wake,
as if guided by instinct. About ten minutes later, the Carnatic, to the
surprise of those who witnessed the manoeuvre in the Achilles, wore
short round, and set studding-sails on her starboard side, steering
large. The darkest portion of the horizon being that which lay to the
eastward, or, in the direction of the continent, in twenty minutes the
pyramid of her shadowy outline was swallowed in the gloom. All this
time, la Victoire, with the Druid leading and towing, kept upon a
bowline; and an hour later, when Sir Gervaise found himself abeam of the
French line again, and half a league to windward of it, no traces were
to be seen of the three ships last mentioned.

"So far, all goes well, gentlemen," observed the vice-admiral to the
group around him on the poop; "and we will now try to count the enemy,
to make certain
he
, too, has no stragglers out to pick up waifs.
Greenly, try that glass; it is set for the night, and your eyes are the
best we have. Be particular in looking for the fellow under jury-masts."

"I make out but ten ships in the line, Sir Gervaise," answered the
captain, after a long examination; "of course the crippled ship must
have gone to leeward. Of
her
, certainly, I can find no traces."

"You will oblige me, Sir Wycherly, by seeing what
you
can make out, in
the same way."

After a still longer examination than that of the captain, Wycherly made
the same report, adding that he thought he also missed the frigate that
had been nearest le Foudroyant, repeating her signals throughout the
day. This circumstance gratified Sir Gervaise, as he was pleased to find
his prognostics came true, and he was not sorry to be rid of one of the
enemy's light cruisers; a species of vessel that often proved
embarrassing, after a decided affair, even to the conqueror.

"I think, Sir Gervaise," Wycherly modestly added, "that the French have
boarded their tacks, and are pressing up to windward to near us. Did it
not appear so to you, Captain Greenly?"

"Not at all. If they carry courses, the sails have been set within the
last five minutes—ha! Sir Gervaise, that is an indication of a busy
night!"

As he spoke. Greenly pointed to the place where the French admiral was
known to be, where at that instant appeared a double row of lights;
proving that the batteries had their lanterns lit, and showing a
disposition to engage. In less than a minute the whole French line was
to be traced along the sea, by the double rows of illumination, the
light resembling that which is seen through the window of a room that
has a bright fire, rather than one in which lamps or candles are
actually visible. As this was just the species of engagement in which
the English had much to risk, and little to gain, Sir Gervaise
immediately gave orders to brace forward the yards, to board
fore-and-main tacks, and to set top-gallant-sails. As a matter of
course, the ships astern made sail in the same manner, and hauled up on
taut bowlines, following the admiral.

"This is not our play," coolly remarked Sir Gervaise; "a crippled ship
would drop directly into their arms and as for any success at long-shot,
in a two-to-one fight, it is not to be looked for. No—no—Monsieur de
Vervillin, show us your teeth if you will, and a pretty sight it is, but
you do not draw a shot from me. I hope the order to show no lights is
duly attended to."

"I do not think there is a light visible from any ship in the fleet, Sir
Gervaise," answered Bunting, "though we are so near, there can be no
great difficulty in telling where we are."

"All but the Carnatic and the prize, Bunting. The more fuss they make
with us, the less will they think of them."

It is probable the French admiral had been deceived by the near approach
of his enemy, for whose prowess he had a profound respect. He had made
his preparations in expectation of an attack, but he did not open his
fire, although heavy shot would certainly have told with effect.
Indisposed to the uncertainty of a night-action, he declined bringing it
on, and the lights disappeared from his ports an hour later; at that
time the English ships, by carrying sail harder than was usual in so
stiff a breeze, found themselves out of gun-shot, on the weather-bow of
their enemies. Then, and not till then, did Sir Gervaise reduce his
canvass, having, by means of his glasses, first ascertained that the
French had again hauled up their courses, and were moving along at a
very easy rate of sailing.

It was now near midnight, and Sir Gervaise prepared to go below.
Previously to quitting the deck, however, he gave very explicit orders
to Greenly, who transmitted them to the first lieutenant, that officer
or the captain intending to be on the look-out through the night; the
movements of the whole squadron being so dependent on those of the flag
ship. The vice-admiral then retired, and went coolly to bed. He was not
a man to lose his rest, because an enemy was just out of gun-shot.
Accustomed to be manoeuvring in front of hostile fleets, the situation
had lost its novelty, and he had so much confidence in the practice of
his captains, that he well knew nothing could occur so long as his
orders were obeyed; to doubt the latter would have been heresy in his
eyes. In professional nonchalance, no man exceeded our vice-admiral.
Blow high, or blow low, it never disturbed the economy of his
cabin-life, beyond what unavoidably was connected with the comfort of
his ship; nor did any prospect of battle cause a meal to vary a minute
in time or a particle in form, until the bulk-heads were actually
knocked down, and the batteries were cleared for action. Although
excitable in trifles, and sometimes a little irritable, Sir Gervaise, in
the way of his profession, was a great man on great occasions. His
temperament was sanguine, and his spirit both decided and bold; and, in
common with all such men who see the truth at all, when he did see it,
he saw it so clearly, as to throw all the doubts that beset minds of a
less masculine order into the shade. On the present occasion, he was
sure nothing could well occur to disturb his rest; and he took it with
the composure of one on
terra-firma
, and in the security of peace.
Unlike those who are unaccustomed to scenes of excitement, he quietly
undressed himself, and his head was no sooner on its pillow, than he
fell into a profound sleep.

It would have been a curious subject of observation to an inexperienced
person, to note the manner in which the two fleets manoeuvred
throughout that night. After several hours of ineffectual efforts to
bring their enemies fairly within reach of their guns, after the moon
had risen, the French gave the matter up for a time, shortening sail
while most of their superior officers caught a little rest.

The sun was just rising, as Galleygo laid his hand on the shoulder of
the vice-admiral, agreeably to orders given the previous night. The
touch sufficed: Sir Gervaise being wide awake in an instant. "Well," he
said, rising to a sitting attitude, and putting the question which first
occurs to a seaman, "how's the weather?"

"A good top-gallant breeze, Sir Jarvy, and just what's this ship's play.
If you'd only let her out, and on them Johnny Crapauds, she'd be down
among 'em, in half an hour, like a hawk upon a chicken. I ought to
report to your honour, that the last chicken will be dished for
breakfast unless we gives an order to the gun-room steward to turn us
over some of his birds, as pay for what the pigs eat; which were real
capons."

"Why, you pirate, you would not have me commit a robbery, on the high
seas, would ye?"

"What robbery would it be to order the gun-room to
sell
us some
poultry. Lord! Sir Jarvy, I'm as far from wishing to take a thing
without an order, as the gunner's yeoman; but, let Mr. Atwood put it in
black and white."

"Tush!" interrupted the master. "How did the French bear from us, when
you were last on deck?"

"Why, there they is, Sir Jarvy," answered Galleygo, drawing the curtain
from before the state-room window, and allowing the vice-admiral to see
the rear of the French line for himself, by turning half round; "and
just where we wants 'em. Their leading ship a little abaft our lee-beam,
distant one league. That's what I calls satisfactory, now."

"Ay, that
is
a good position, Master Galleygo. Was the prize in sight,
or were you too chicken-headed to look."

"I chicken-headed! Well, Sir Jarvy, of all characters and descriptions
of
me
, that your honour has seen fit to put abroad, this is the most
unjustest; chickens being a food I never thinks on, off soundings.
Pig-headed you might in reason call me, Sir Jarvy; for I
do
looks
arter the pigs, which is the only real stand-by in a ship; but I never
dreams of a chicken, except for
your
happetite. When they was eight on
'em—"

"Was the prize in sight?" demanded Sir Gervaise, a little sharply.

"No, Sir Jarvy; she had disappeared, and the Druid with her. But this
isn't all, sir; for they does say, some'at has befallen the Carnatic,
she having gone out of our line, like a binnacle-lamp at eight bells."

"Ay,
she
is not visible, either."

"Not so much as a hen-coop, Sir Jarvy! We all wonders what has become of
Captain Parker; no sign of him or of his ship is to be found on the
briny ocean. The young gentlemen of the watch laugh, and say she must
have gone up in a waterspout, but they laughs so much at misfortins,
generally, that I never minds 'em."

"Have you had a good look-out at the ocean, this morning, Master
Galleygo," asked Sir Gervaise, drawing his head out of a basin of water,
for, by this time, he was half-dressed, and making his preparations for
the razor. "You used to have an eye for a chase, when we were in a
frigate, and ought to be able to tell me if Bluewater is in sight."

"Admiral Blue!—Well, Sir Jarvy, it
is
remarkable, but I had just
rubbed his division out of my log, and forgotten all about it. There
was
a handful of craft, or so, off here to the nor'ard, at day-light,
but I never thought it was Admiral Blue, it being more nat'ral to
suppose him in his place, as usual, in the rear of our own line. Let me
see, Sir Jarvy, how many ships has we absent under Admiral Blue?"

"Why, the five two-deckers of his own division, to be sure, besides the
Ranger and the Gnat. Seven sail in all."

"Yes, that's just it! Well, your honour, there
was
five sail to be
seen, out here to the nor'ard, as I told you, and, sure enough, it may
have been Admiral Blue, with all his craft."

By this time, Sir Gervaise had his face covered with lather, but he
forgot the circumstance in a moment. As the wind was at the north-west,
and the Plantagenet was on the larboard tack, looking in the direction
of the Bill of Portland, though much too far to the southward to allow
the land to be seen, his own larboard quarter-gallery window commanded a
good view of the whole horizon to windward. Crossing over from the
starboard state-room, which he occupied
ex-officio
, he opened the
window in question, and took a look for himself. There, sure enough, was
visible a squadron of five ships, in close order, edging leisurely down
on the two lines, under their top-sails, and just near enough to allow
it to be ascertained that their courses were not set. This sight
produced a sudden change in all the vice-admiral's movements. The
business of the toilet was resumed in haste, and the beard was mowed
with a slashing hand, that might have been hazardous in the motion of a
ship, but for the long experience of a sailor. This important part of
the operation was scarcely through, when Locker announced the presence
of Captain Greenly in the main cabin.

"What now, Greenly?—What now?" called out the vice-admiral, puffing as
he withdrew his head, again, from the basin—"What now, Greenly? Any
news from Bluewater?"

"I am happy to tell you, Sir Gervaise, he has been in sight more than an
hour, and is closing with us, though shyly and slowly. I would not let
you be called, as all was right, and I knew sleep was necessary to a
clear head."

"You have done quite right, Greenly; God willing, I intend this to be a
busy day! The French must see our rear division?"

"Beyond a doubt, sir, but they show no signs of making off. M. de
Vervillin will fight, I feel certain; though the experience of yesterday
may render him a little shy as to the mode."

"And his crippled ship?—Old Parker's friend—I take it
she
is not
visible."

"You were quite right in your conjecture, Sir Gervaise; the crippled
ship is off, as is one of the frigates, no doubt to see her in. Blewet,
too, has gone well to windward of the French, though he can fetch into
no anchorage short of Portsmouth, if this breeze stand."

"Any haven will do. Our little success will animate the king's party,
and give it more
éclat
, perhaps, than it really merits. Let there be
no delay with the breakfast this morning, Greenly; it will be a busy
day."