"A hand, or two, that can steer, will be an immense relief to us, Moses, even though unable to go aloft. Call Neb to the wheel, then, and we'll go look at the chart, so as to lay our course."

All was done, accordingly. In half an hour, the Dawn was steering for the western coast of England, with everything set we thought it prudent to carry. Two hours after we began to move away from the spot where they lay, the frigates had sunk behind the curvature of the earth, and we lost sight of them altogether. The weather continued good, the breeze steady and fresh, and the Dawn did her duty admirably. We began to get accustomed to our situations, and found them less arduous than had been apprehended. The direction of the wind was so favourable, that it kept hope alive; though we trebled our distance by going round the British islands, instead of pa.s.sing directly up channel. Twenty-four hours were necessary to carry us as far north as the Land's End, however; and I determined to be then governed by circ.u.mstances. Should the wind shift, we always had the direct route before us; and I had my doubts whether putting a bold face on the matter, running close in with the English sh.o.r.e, and appearing to be bound for London, were not the wisest course. There certainly was the danger of the Speedy's telling our story, in which case there would be a sharp look-out for us; while there was the equal chance that she might speak nothing for a week. Eight-and-forty hours ahead of her, I should not have feared much from her account of us.

It is unnecessary to dwell minutely on the events of the next few days.

The weather continued good, the wind fair and our progress was in proportion. We saw nothing until we got within two leagues of Scilly Light, when we were boarded by a pilot-boat out from those islands. This occurred at sunrise, with the wind light at north-east, and one sail in sight to windward, that had the appearance of a brig-of-war, though she was still hull down, and not heading for us.

I saw that the smallness of our crew, and the course we were steering, struck these pilots, the moment they had time to ascertain the first fact.

It was not usual, in that day, nor do I suppose it is now, for deep-laden Americans to pa.s.s so near England, coming from the south-east and steering to the north-west. A remark to this effect fell from the mouth of the princ.i.p.al pilot, as soon as I told him I did not wish to go in to any of the neighbouring ports.

"I am short of hands, and am desirous of obtaining three or four good men," I said, "who shall be well paid for their services, and sent back, without cost, to the place whence they came."

"Ay, I see you've a small crew for so stout a craft, master," the pilot answered. "May I ask what has happened to bring you down so low?"

"Why, you know how it is among your cruisers, in war-time--an English frigate carried away all hands, with the exception of these you see."

Now, this was true to the ear, at least, though I saw, plainly enough, that I was not believed.

"It's not often His Majesty's officers shave so close," the pilot answered, with a sort of sneer I did not like. "They commonly send in hands with a ship, when they find it necessary to take her own men."

"Ay, I suppose the laws require this with English vessels; with Americans, they are less particular; at all events, you see the whole of us, and I should be very glad to get a hand or two, if possible, out of your cutter."

"Where are you bound, master?--Before we ship, we'd like to know the port we sail for."

"Hamburg."

"Hamburg! Why, master, you're not heading for Hamburg, at all, which lies up the _English_, not up the _Irish_ channel."

"I am well aware of all that. But I am afraid to go into the English channel so short-handed. Those narrow waters give a man trouble, unless he has a full crew."

"The channel is a good place to find men, master. However, none of us can go with you, and no words be necessary. As you've no occasion for a pilot, we must be off a'ter something else."

The fellow now left me, without more words, and I saw there was no use in attempting to detain him. He had got a league from us, and we were jogging on our course, before we discovered he was making signals to the brig, which had kept dead away, and had set studding-sails on both sides. As this was carrying much more sail than we could venture to show, I thought our chance of escape small indeed. There was the whole day before us, with a light, and doubtless fast-sailing cruiser in chase of a heavily-loaded merchantman. As a stern-chase is, proverbially, a long chase, however, I determined to do all we could to avoid the gentleman. Sail was made, accordingly, so far as we dared, and the ship was steered a little off, as her best mode of sailing, in her present trim. We saw the brig speak the pilot-boat, and, from that moment, were certain her commander had all the conjectures of the Scilly man added to his own. The effect was soon to be noted, for when the two separated, the cutter stood in for her own rocks, while the brig renewed her chase.

That was an uneasy day. The man-of-war gained, but it was quite slowly.

She might beat us by a knot in the hour, and, being ten miles astern, there was still the hope of its falling dark before she could close. The wind, too, was unsteady, and towards noon it grew so light, as to reduce both vessels to only two or three knots way. Of course, this greatly lessened the difference in our rate of sailing, and I had now strong hopes that night might come, before our pursuers could close.

Nor was I disappointed. The wind continued light until sunset, when it came out a fine breeze at north-west, bringing us dead to windward of the brig, which was then distant some six miles. We got the proper sail on the ship, as fast as we could, though the cruiser was dashing ahead under everything she could carry, long before we could get through with the necessary work. When we did get at it, notwithstanding, I found she had not much the advantage of us, and now began to entertain some hopes of shaking her off in the course of the night. Marble was confident of it, and his confidence, on points of seamanship, was always ent.i.tled to respect.

About ten, both vessels were on the starboard tack, standing to the southward and westward, or out towards the broad Atlantic, with the brig about a league under the Dawn's lee, and a little forward of her beam.

This was the most favourable position for us to be in, in order to effect our purpose, since the cruiser had already pa.s.sed her nearest point to us, on that tack. The horizon to windward, and all along the margin of the sea at the northward, was covered with clouds, which threatened, by the way, a capfull of wind. This dark back-ground would be likely to prevent our being seen; and the instant the night shut in the outline of the brig's canva.s.s, I ordered our helm put down.

It was lively business, tacking such a ship as the Dawn, under so much canva.s.s, and in such a breeze, with four men! The helm was lashed hard down, and at it we went, like so many tigers. The after-yards swung themselves though the main-tack and sheet gave us a good deal of trouble.

We braced everything aft, sharp up, before we left it, having first managed to get the fore-yard square. When this was done, we filled all forward, and dragged the yards and bow-lines to their places, with a will that seemed irresistible.

There were no means of knowing whether the brig came round, about this time, or not. Agreeably to the rule of chasing, she should have tacked when directly abeam, unless she fancied she could eat us out of the wind by standing on. We knew she did not tack when directly abeam, but we could not see whether she came round after us, or not. At all events, tack or not, she must still be near a league under our lee; and we drove on, towards the English coast, until the day reappeared, not a man of us all sleeping a wink that night. How anxiously we watched the ocean astern, and to leeward, as the returning light slowly raised the veil of obscurity from before us! Nothing was in sight, even when the sun appeared, to bathe the entire ocean in a flood of glory. Not even a white speck in-sh.o.r.e; and as for the brig, we never saw or heard more of her. Doubtless she stood on, on the old course, hoping gradually to close with us, or to draw so far ahead and to windward, as to make certain of her prey in the morning.

According to our reckoning, the ship was now heading well up towards the coast of Wales, which we might expect to make in the course of the next four-and-twenty hours, should the wind stand. I determined, therefore, to make the best of the matter, and to go directly up the Irish channel, hoping to fall in with some boat from the north sh.o.r.e, that might not have as apt intellects on board it, as those of our Scilly pilot had proved to be. We stood on, consequently, all that day; and another sun set without our making the land. We saw several vessels at a distance, in the afternoon; but we were now in a part of the ocean where an American ship would be as little likely to be disturbed as in any I know. It was the regular track of vessels bound to Liverpool,--and these last were as little molested as the want of men would at all permit. Could we get past that port, we should then be in the way of picking up half a dozen Irishmen.

Chapter XX.

"Och! botheration--'T is a beautiful coost All made up of rocks and deep bays; Ye may sail up and down, a marvellous host, And admire all its beautiful ways."

Irish Song.

Little did we, or could we, antic.i.p.ate all that lay before us. The wind held at north-west until the ship had got within twenty miles of the Welsh coast; then, it came out light, again, at the southward. We were now so near Liverpool, that I expected, every hour, to make some American bound in. None was seen, notwithstanding, and we stood up channel, edging over towards the Irish coast at the same time, determined to work our way to the northward as well as we could. This sort of weather continued for two days and nights, during which we managed to get up as high as Whitehaven, when the wind came dead ahead, blowing a stiff breeze. I foresaw from the commencement of this new wind, that it would probably drive us down channel, and out into the Atlantic once more, unless we could anchor. I thought I would attempt the last, somewhere under the Irish coast, in the hope of getting some a.s.sistance from among the children of St. Patrick. We all knew that Irish sailors, half the time, were not very well trained, but anything that could pull and haul would be invaluable to us, in heavy weather. We had now been more than a week, four of us in all, working the ship, and, instead of being in the least f.a.gged, we had rather got settled into our places, as it might be, getting along without much trouble; still, there were moments when a little extra force would be of great moment to us, and I could see by the angry look of the skies, that these moments were likely to increase in frequency and in the magnitude of their importance to us.

The waters we were in were so narrow, that it was not long before we drew close in with the Irish coast. Here, to my great joy, we saw a large fishing-boat, well out in the offing, and under circ.u.mstances that rendered it easy for those in it to run close under our lee. We made a signal, therefore, and soon had the strangers lying-to, in the smooth water we made for them, with our own main-yard aback. It is scarcely necessary to say, that we had gradually diminished our own canva.s.s, as it became necessary, until the ship was under double-reefed top-sails, the fore-course, jib and spanker. We had brought the top-sails down lower than was necessary, in order to antic.i.p.ate the time when it might be indispensable.

The first of the men who came on board us was named Terence O' something.

His countenance was the droll medley of fun, shrewdness, and blundering, that is so often found in the Irish peasant, and which appears to be characteristic of entire races in the island.

"A fine marnin', yer honour," he began, with a self-possession that nothing could disturb, though it was some time past noon, and the day was anything but such a one as a seaman likes. "A fine marnin', yer honour, and _as_ fine a ship! Is it fish that yer honour will be asking for?"

"I will take some of your fish, my friend, and pay you well for them."

"Long life to yees!"

"I was about to say, I will pay you much better if you can show me any lee, hereabouts, which has good holding-ground, where a ship might ride out the gale that is coming."

"Shure yer honour!--will I _not_? Shure, there's nivver the lad on the coost, that knows betther what it is yer honour wants, or who'll supply yees, with half the good will."

"Of course you know the coast; probably were born hereabouts?"

"Of coorse, is it? Whereabouts should Terence O' something, be born, if it's not hereabouts? Is it know the coost, too? Ah, we're ould acquaintances."

"And where do you intend to take the ship, Terence?"

"It's houlding ground, yer honour asked for?"

"Certainly.--A bottom on which an anchor will not drag."

"Och! is it _that_? Well, _all_ the bottom in this counthry is of that same natur'. None of it will drag, without pulling mighty hard. I'll swear to any part of it."

"You surely would not think of anchoring a ship out here, a league from the land, with nothing to break either wind or sea, and a gale commencing?"

"I anchor! Divil the bit did I ever anchor a ship, or a brig, or even a cutther. I've not got so high up as that, yer honour: but yon's ould Michael Sweeny, now; many's the anchor he's cast out, miles at a time, sayin' he's been a sayman, and knows the says from top to bottom. It's Michael ye'll want, and Michael ye shall have."

Michael was spoken to, and he clambered up out of the boat, as well as he could; the task not being very easy, since the fishermen with difficulty kept their dull, heavy boat out of our mizen chains. In the mean time, Marble and I found time to compare notes. We agreed that Mr. Terence McScale, or O' something,--for I forget the fellow's surname,--would probably turn out a more useful man in hauling in mackerel and John Dorys, than in helping us to take care of the Dawn. Nor did Michael, at the first glance promise anything much better. He was very old,--eighty. I should think,--and appeared to have nullified all the brains he ever had, by the constant use of whiskey; the scent of which accompanied him with a sort of parasitical odour, as that of tannin attends the leather-dresser. He was not drunk just then, however, but seemed cool and collected. I explained my wishes to this man; and was glad to find he had a tolerable notion of nautical terms, and that he would not be likely to get us into difficulty, like Terence, through any ignorance on this score.

"Is it anchor ye would, yer honour?" answered Michael, when I had concluded. "Sure, that's aisy enough, and the saison is good for that same; for the wind is getting up like a giant. As for the guineas yer honour mintions, it's of no avail atween fri'nds. I'll take 'em, to obleege ye, if yer honour so wills: but the ship should be anch.o.r.ed if there niver was a grain of goold in the wur-r-r-ld. Would ye like a berth pratty well out, or would yer honour choose to go in among the rocks, and lie like a babby in its cradhle?"

"I should prefer a safe roadstead, to venturing too far in, without a professed pilot. By the look of the land in-sh.o.r.e, I should think it would be easy to find a lee against this wind, provided we can get good holding-grounds That is the difficulty I most apprehend."

"Trust ould Ireland for that, yer honour, yes, put faith in us, for that same. Ye've only to fill your top-sail, and stand in; ould Michael and ould Ireland together, will take care of yees."