"You look first-rate, father, and a lot more comfortable than usual, I can tell you."

It was at Martyn's suggestion that Horace had urged his father to make a change in his attire.

"It would be a good thing if you could get him to put on sea-going togs," the sailor had said. "He is the owner of as smart a craft as ever sailed out of British waters, and he will look a good deal more at home on the deck of his own ship in regular yachtsman's dress than he would rigged up in his ruffles and boots."

With this Horace had agreed heartily, for his father's appearance on occasions when he had gone out with him in the _Surf_ had struck him as being wholly incongruous with the surroundings.

At half-past eight they went down to the steps, two porters carrying the luggage under the watchful eye of Zaimes. As they were seen, the smart gig with its six rowers, which was lying a short distance off, rowed in to the steps. Tarleton was steering. He stepped out to hand Mr. Beveridge into the boat.

"This is Mr. Tarleton, father, our second lieutenant."

"I am glad to meet you, sir," Mr. Beveridge said, shaking hands with the young officer. "I hope that we shall have a pleasant cruise together."

"I feel sure we shall, sir. If one couldn't be comfortable on board the _Creole_, one couldn't be comfortable anywhere."

Tarleton took his seat in the centre to steer, with Mr. Beveridge and Horace on either side of him, Zaimes and the luggage were placed in the bow. The bowman pushed the boat off with the boat-hook. The oars, which had been tossed in man-of-war fashion, fell with a splash into the water, and then with a long steady stroke the gig darted away from the steps.

"This is certainly very pleasant," Mr. Beveridge said as they threaded through the anch.o.r.ed craft and made their way seaward. "I begin to wish I had taken up yachting twenty years back."

"Well, it is not too late, father. When we have done with Greece, you can go in for amus.e.m.e.nt if you like."

"I should never find time, Horace."

"Oh, you could make time, father. You could spare three months in the year and be all the better for it. When you have once had a break, you will find how pleasant it is."

Half an hour's row and Horace said: "That is the _Creole_, father, lying in there near the farther point."

"She doesn't look as large as I expected, Horace, though her masts seem a great height."

"She is heavily sparred for her length," Tarleton said, "but she has great beam; besides she is rather low in the water now, and of course that makes the spars look big in proportion. She will be a bit higher by the time we get out. Fifty men consume a considerable weight of stores and water every week. You will be pleased with her, sir, when we get alongside. We all think she is as handsome a craft as we ever set eyes on. She will astonish the Turks, I warrant, when it comes to sailing."

Another twenty minutes they were alongside. According to naval etiquette Horace mounted the ladder first, then Tarleton, and Mr.

Beveridge followed. Martyn and Miller received him at the gangway, the former introducing the first officer and the surgeon to him.

"She is a fine-looking vessel," Mr. Beveridge said, "and you have certainly done marvels with her, Captain Martyn, for my son wrote me that she had nothing but her lower masts in her when you took possession, and now she is wonderfully bright and clean, and these decks look almost too white to walk on."

"I hope that we shall always keep her in equal order, sir. We have a capital crew, and no one could wish for a better craft under his feet."

Mr. Beveridge was now conducted round the ship, and expressed himself highly gratified with everything.

"Is it your wish that we should make sail at once, sir?" Martyn asked. "We have been expecting some heavy luggage on board, but it has not arrived."

"I changed my mind about it, and there is nothing coming, Captain Martyn. I am perfectly ready to start if you have everything on board."

"There is nothing to wait for, sir; we are perfectly ready."

They returned to the quarter-deck, and as Martyn gave the orders there was a general movement on the part of the crew. Some of the men cl.u.s.tered round the capstan, while others prepared to make sail, and Mr. Beveridge felt a keen sense of pleasure as he watched the active fellows at their work. In five minutes the sails were set, the anchor at the cat-head, and the _Creole_ moving through the water under the light breeze off sh.o.r.e.

They had favourable winds across the Bay and down the coast of Portugal. Everything from the start had gone as smoothly as if the _Creole_ had been six months in commission--officers and men were alike pleased with the ship; the provisions for the sailors were of the best quality; the duties were very light, for the sails had not required altering from the time they had been set, although each day the men practised for an hour at lowering and setting them, in order to accustom them to work smartly together.

There was half an hour's cutla.s.s drill, and for the rest of the day, beyond cleaning and polishing, there was nothing to be done. Mr.

Beveridge spent the greater part of his time in a comfortable deck-chair on the quarter-deck, for there was no p.o.o.p, the deck being flush from end to end. Horace attended to his duties as third officer regularly, and the nights were so warm and pleasant that the watches did not appear long to him. There was no stiffness in the cabin when they gathered to their meals, or in the evening, and Mr. Beveridge proved in no way a wet blanket on their fun, as the three officers had rather antic.i.p.ated he would be. He talked but little, but was thoroughly amused at their yarns and jests, all of which were as strange to him as if he had lived in another world.

"You will certainly have to cut off our rations a bit, Mr. Beveridge,"

Will Martyn said one day as they finished dinner. "We shall be getting as fat as porpoises if we go on like this. I can feel my togs filling out daily; and as for Tarleton, he will have to have all his things let out by the time we arrive in the Levant. For the credit of the ship I shall have to give orders for us to be supplied with the same rations as the men, and go in for luxuries only on Sundays. We are not accustomed to be tempted in this way at every meal. It is all very well for you who do not eat much more than a sparrow to have such nice things always put before you; but to us who have been accustomed to a steady diet of salt junk, except when we put into port and are able to get fresh meat for a change, these things are beyond our power of resistance."

"I eat a great deal more than I did on sh.o.r.e," Mr. Beveridge said. "I find, indeed, a wonderful improvement in my appet.i.te. It was quite an infliction to Zaimes that I cared so little for the good things he provided me with. I can a.s.sure you I really begin to look for my meals now, and it is a pleasure for me to see you all eat with good healthy appet.i.tes, and I am sure that it must be a great gratification to the Greeks to see their efforts appreciated at last."

"It is Tarleton I am thinking of princ.i.p.ally, sir; as for Miller, nature made him square, and it would be no disadvantage if he became round; while as to the doctor, food is simply wasted on him, he will never do credit to your cooks. But Tarleton, with those dark eyes of his and his gentle sort of way, was what the ladies would consider an interesting youth, and he would, I am sure, forfeit the good opinion of the ladies altogether if he were to return looking like a mildly animated sausage."

Tarleton joined in the laugh. "I do think I have gained a lot in weight the last week," he said; "but we won't always go on in this quiet sort of way. As for what Martyn says, I believe it is only jealousy on his part at seeing that my angles are filling out."

On arriving at the Straits they put in at Ceuta and obtained a supply of fresh meat and vegetables. In the Mediterranean they fell in with dead calms and were a fortnight in getting to Gozo, where they again replenished their stock. They abstained from putting in either at Gibraltar or Malta in order to avoid being questioned as to the cargo and destination of the _Creole_.

"Now, sir," Will Martyn said when they were within two days' sail of Greece, "it is quite time to decide what port we shall make for, but we can't decide that until we know how matters are going on. When we left England there were very conflicting accounts of the progress of the revolution, and whether Corinth, Patras, Nauplia, or Athens are in the hands of the Greeks or Turks. Well, I should say, sir, that our best plan would be to put in at Zante, where, as it is English, and therefore neutral ground, we shall learn all about the state of affairs, and may meet some of our own people or foreigners who have been fighting by the side of the Greeks. Half an hour's talk with one of them would give us a better idea how everything stands than a week's talk with Greeks."

"I think that will be a very good plan," Mr. Beveridge agreed. "Flying the English flag we might go in or out of any of the harbours as neutrals; but if by any chance it leaked out what our cargo is the Turks would probably consider themselves justified in laying hands on us."

"At any rate it is well not to run the risk, Mr. Beveridge, as there is no object to be served by it. I will take the bearings of Zante and lay our course for it."

There was, indeed, no spot where they were more likely to obtain accurate news of what was going on than Zante, lying as the island does at a short distance from the mouth of the Gulf of Corinth, upon which were three of the most important towns in Greece--Patras, Corinth, and Missolonghi. Here, too, the fugitives from the Morea, of either party, would naturally make their way.

It was the 8th of October when the _Creole_, flying the English flag at her peak, dropped anchor in the port. As soon as she did so a custom-house officer came on board.

"What ship is this?" he asked the first officer, who was on deck.

"This is the _Creole_, a private yacht belonging to Mr. Beveridge. The owner is below if you wish to see him."

"You have no merchandise on board?"

"I tell you that it is a yacht," Miller said. "An English gentleman doesn't bring out merchandise for sale in his yacht. The captain will show you her papers."

Will Martyn came on deck.

"This is the captain," Miller said. "You had better address him."

On hearing what was required Martyn took the officer below and showed him the ship's papers.

"I see it is mentioned here that you were bound from England to Lisbon," the officer observed.

"Yes. We did not put in there, as Mr. Beveridge was anxious to get into a warmer climate."

"I see you are strongly armed," the officer said when he came on to deck again, for after leaving Malta the eight twelve-pounders and the pivot-gun had been got up from the hold and mounted.

"Yes, we are armed, as you see. I imagine you would hardly recommend anyone to be cruising about in these waters without means of defence."

"No, indeed," the officer laughed. "The Greeks are pirates to the core. You would be all right with the Turks, although from your appearance I should not think they would ever get near enough to trouble you."