Throughout the whole of that long and anxious day, the young sailor had held no communication with the inmates of the cabin. The servants of the ship had passed to and fro; but, though the door seldom opened that he did not bend his eyes feverishly in its direction, neither the Alderman, his niece, the captive, nor even François or the negress, made their appearance on the deck. If any there felt an interest in the result of the chase, it was concealed in a profound and almost mysterious silence. Determined not to be outdone in indifference, and goaded by feelings which with all his pride he could not overcome, our young seaman took possession of the place of rest we have mentioned, without using any measures to resume the intercourse.
When the first watch of the night was come, sail was shortened on the ship, and from that moment till the day dawned again, her captain seemed buried in sleep. With the appearance of the sun, however, he arose, and commanded the canvas to be spread, once more, and every exertion made to drive the vessel forward to her object.
The Coquette reached the Race early in the day, and, shooting through the passage on an ebb-tide, she was off Montauk at noon. No sooner had the ship drawn past the cape, and reached a point where she felt the breeze and the waves of the Atlantic, than men were sent aloft, and twenty eyes were curiously employed in examining the offing. Ludlow remembered the promise of the Skimmer to meet him at that spot, and, notwithstanding the motives which the latter might be supposed to have for avoiding the interview, so great was the influence of the free-trader’s manner and character, that the young captain entertained secret expectations the promise would be kept.
“The offing is clear!” said the young captain, in a tone of disappointment, when he lowered his glass; “and yet that rover does not seem a man to hide his head in fear–”
“Fear–that is to say, fear of a Frenchman–and a decent respect for Her Majesty’s cruisers, are very different sorts of things,” returned the master. “I never got a bandanna, or a bottle of your Cogniac ashore, in my life, that I did not think every man that I passed in the street, could see the spots in the one, or scent the flavor of the other; but then I never supposed this shyness amounted to more than a certain suspicion in my own mind, that other people know when a man is running on an illegal course. I suppose that one of your rectors, who is snugly anchored for life in a good warm living, would call this conscience; but, for my own part, Captain Ludlow, though no great logician in matters of this sort, I have always believed that it was natural concern of mind lest the articles should be seized. If this ‘Skimmer of the Seas’ comes out to give us another chase in rough water, he is by no means as good a judge of the difference between a large and a small vessel, as I had thought him–and I confess, Sir, I should have more hopes of taking him, were the woman under his bowsprit fairly burnt.”
“The offing is clear!”
“That it is, with a show of the wind holding here at south-half-south. This bit of water that we have passed, between yon island and the main, is lined with bays; and while we are here looking out for them on the high seas, the cunning varlets may be trading in any one of the fifty good basins that lie between the cape and the place where we lost him. For aught we know, he may have run westward again in the night-watches, and be at this moment laughing in his sleeve at the manner in which he dodged a cruiser.”
“There is too much truth in what you say, Trysail; for if the Skimmer be now disposed to avoid us, he has certainly the means in his power.”
“Sail, ho!” cried the look-out on the main-top-gallant-yard.
“Where-a-way?”
“Broad on the weather-beam, Sir; here, in a range with the light cloud that is just lifting from the water.”
“Can you make out the rig?”
“’Fore George, the fellow is right!” interrupted the master. “The cloud caused her to be unseen; but here she is, sure enough,–a full-rigged ship, under easy canvas, with her head to the westward!”
The look of Ludlow through the glass was long, attentive, and grave.
“We are weak-handed to deal with a stranger;” he said, when he returned the instrument to Trysail. “You see he has nothing but his topsails set,–a show of canvas that would satisfy no trader, in a breeze like this!”
The master was silent, but his look was even longer and more critical than that of his captain. When it had ended, he cast a cautious glance towards the diminished crew, who were curiously regarding the vessel that had now become sufficiently distinct by a change in the position of the cloud, and then answered, in an under tone:–
“’Tis a Frenchman, or I am a whale! One may see it, by his short yards, and the hoist of his sails; ay, and ’tis a cruiser, too, for no man who had a profit to make on his freight, would be lying there under short canvas, and his port within a day’s run.”
“Your opinion is my own; would to Heaven our people were all here! This is but a short complement to take into action with a ship whose force seems equal to our own. What number can we count?”
“We are short of seventy,–a small muster for four-and-twenty guns, with yards like these to handle.”
“And yet the port may not be insulted! We are known to be on this coast–”
“We are seen!” interrupted the master–“The fellow has worn ship, and he is already setting his top-gallant-sails.”
There no longer remained any choice between downright flight and preparations for combat. The former would have been easy, for an hour would have taken the ship within the cape; but the latter was far more in consonance with the spirit of the service to which the Coquette belonged. The order was therefore given for “all hands to clear ship for action!” It was in the reckless nature of sailors, to exult in this summons; for success and audacity go hand in hand, and long familiarity with the first had, even at that early day, given a confidence that often approached temerity to the seamen of Great Britain and her dependencies. The mandate to prepare for battle was received by the feeble crew of the Coquette, as it had often been received before, when her decks were filled with the number necessary to give full efficiency to her armament; though a few of the older and more experienced of the mariners, men in whom confidence had been diminished by time, were seen to shake their heads, as if they doubted the prudence of the intended contest.
Whatever might have been the secret hesitation of Ludlow when the character and force of his enemy were clearly established, he betrayed no signs of irresolution from the moment when his decision appeared to be taken. The necessary orders were issued calmly, and with the clearness and readiness that perhaps constitute the greatest merit of a naval captain. The yards were slung in chains; the booms were sent down; the lofty sails were furled, and, in short, all the preparations that were then customary were made with the usual promptitude and skill. Then the drum beat to quarters, and when the people were at their stations, their young commander had a better opportunity of examining into the true efficiency of his ship. Calling to the master, he ascended the poop, in order that they might confer together with less risk of being overheard, and at the same time better observe the manœuvres of the enemy.
The stranger had, as Trysail perceived, suddenly worn round on his heel, and laid his head to the northward. The change in the course brought him before the wind, and, as he immediately spread all the canvas that would draw, he was approaching fast. During the time occupied in preparation on board the Coquette, his hull had risen as it were from out of the water; and Ludlow and his companion had not studied his appearance long, from the poop, before the streak of white paint, dotted with ports, which marks a vessel of war, became visible to the naked eye. As the cruiser of Queen Anne continued also to steer in the direction of the chase, half an hour more brought them sufficiently near to each other, to remove all doubts of their respective characters and force. The straner then came to the wind, and made his preparations for combat.
“The fellow shows a stout heart, and a warm battery,” observed the master, when the broadside of their enemy became visible, by this change in his position. “Six-and-twenty teeth, by my count though the eye-teeth must be wanting, or he would never be so fool-hardy as to brave Queen Anne’s Coquette in this impudent fashion! A prettily turned boat, Captain Ludlow, and one nimble enough in her movements. But look at his toenails! Just like his character, Sir, all hoist; and with little or no head to them. I’ll not deny but that the hull is well enough, for that is no more than carpenter’s work; but when it comes to the rig, or trim, or cut of a sail, how should a l’Orient or a Brest man understand what is comely? There is no equalling, after all, a good, wholesome, honest English topsail; which is neither too narrow in the head, nor too deep in the hoist; with a bolt-rope of exactly the true size, robands and earings and bowlines that look as if they grew there, and sheets that neither nature nor art could alter to advantage. Here are these Americans, now, making innovations in ship-building, and in the sparring of vessels, as if any thing could be gained by quitting the customs and opinions of their ancestors! Any man may see that all they have about them, that is good for any thing, is English; while all their nonsense, and new-fangled changes, come from their own vanity.”