The Missing Merchantman.

by Harry Collingwood.

CHAPTER ONE.

INTRODUCTORY.

This story opens on a glorious day about the middle of July; and Weymouth, with its charming bay, was looking its very best. A gentle southerly breeze was blowing; the air was clear--just warm enough to render a dip in the sea the quintessence of luxury--and so laden with ozone and the wholesome scent of the sea that to breathe it was like imbibing a draught of _elixir vitae_. The east land was in itself a picture as it stretched across the horizon in front of the town, its lofty chalk-cliffs and swelling downs, the latter dotted here and there with a solitary farm-house or a clump of trees, gleaming softly through the clear transparent atmosphere in a thousand varied hues of green, and creamy white, and ruddy neutral, which gradually merged into a series of delicate pearly-greys as the eye followed the bold outline to where Saint Alban's Head sloped down into the azure sea. The n.o.ble bay, gently ruffled by the morning breeze, shimmered and sparkled brilliantly in the strong unclouded sunlight, its rippling wavelets chasing each other sh.o.r.eward in long lines until they plashed with a soothing murmur into mimic breakers upon the broad, smooth, firm expanse of sand, whereon happy children were disporting themselves, bare-footed, with boat, and spade, and bucket, to their innocent hearts' content.

The proprietors of the bathing-vans were doing an excellent business, their lumbering vehicles jolting noisily down into the water with scarcely a moment's intermission. The band, drawn up in front of the hideous statue to George the Fourth, which so greatly disfigures the town, was discoursing, fairly well, a selection of good music; a long line of chairs on the sands was fully occupied by loungers, mostly ladies, reading, or amusing themselves by watching the antics of the thronging children; the broad promenade was crowded with people on pleasure bent. Light skiffs and neat well-appointed sailing boats were darting hither and thither along the surface of the glancing waters; and farther out, at a distance of about a mile from the sh.o.r.e, some half-a- dozen or more yachts of various rigs and tonnage were lying at anchor, with their club burgees gaily fluttering in the breeze, and most of them with mainsail hoisted, or with other preparations actively going forward toward getting under weigh for a day's cruise.

The delightful little watering-place, it has been said, was looking its best; or at least this was the opinion expressed by a young man who, accompanied by his father and sister, walked up the esplanade on that particular morning, on his way to the railway-station _en route_ for London by the ten o'clock South-Western express--his luggage having preceded him on a hand-truck.

As the young man happens to be the hero of the present story, it may not be amiss to describe him somewhat particularly.

Edward Damerell, then--for that was his name--was, at the date of our introduction to him, within a month of reaching his nineteenth year; and he had hoped to spend his birthday at home with his father and sister, the only relatives he possessed on earth, but circ.u.mstances had ordered it otherwise. He stood just five feet seven inches in his stockings; was as stout-built and shapely a youth as one need wish to see, though it was evident that he had not yet attained his full growth; his frank, handsome, albeit sunburnt face was lighted up by a pair of keen, honest grey eyes and crowned by a close-cut crop of crisp, curly, flaxen hair-- a good-tempered, pleasant-looking fellow enough, true as steel, brave as true, and, having been already three years at sea, as smart a seaman as ever trod a plank.

His father was his exact counterpart, with the comparatively trifling difference that he was not quite so tall as Ned; was broader in the beam, and, as of course might be expected, much older-looking, though the appearance of age was due princ.i.p.ally to the grey with which his hair and bushy whiskers (which latter appendages, by the by, Ned was still without) was thickly dashed; the old gentleman's eye being as keen and bright as his son's, and his step almost as springy.

Edward Damerell, senior, it may be as well to mention, was a naval lieutenant, retired upon half-pay. He had seen a great deal of service in his youth, princ.i.p.ally on the West Coast of Africa and in the China seas, and had been fairly fortunate in the matter of acquiring prize- money--to which circ.u.mstance he was indebted for the exceedingly comfortable little cottage on the hill overlooking Newton's Cove, which he had inhabited for some twenty-five years, having purchased and settled down in it upon his marriage and retirement from the service.

His daughter Eva was a beautiful girl, as good as she was beautiful, and the very apple of her father's eye--which is all that need be said of her, as she plays no part in the events which it is the purpose of this narrative to chronicle.

Young Edward Damerell, born and brought up within sight and sound of the sea, early manifested a natural desire to tread in his father's footsteps by following the same profession. To this the old gentleman made no very serious objection, but he would not hear of his son entering the navy. The service, he insisted, had been ruined by the introduction of steam and armour-plates. Moreover, he had discovered, to his cost, that without money and influence, and plenty of both, a man stood but little chance, in these piping times of peace, of making any great amount of headway up the ratlins of promotion. "So," said he, "if Ned chooses to go to sea, he will have to enter the merchant service, where good seamen are still, and always will be, required."

And this Ned did under the most advantageous circ.u.mstances, as "midshipman-apprentice" on board an Australian clipper belonging to the "Bruce" line, in which employ he was duly serving his time--very creditably, indeed, to himself and to the officers who had the training of him, if the report of the skipper, Captain Blyth, was to be believed.

And he was now, on this particular morning, leaving home once more, after a month's leave, to join a brand-new steel-built clipper called the _Flying Cloud_, the latest addition to the "Bruce" fleet, of which ship Captain Blyth had been given the command.

As the lad arrived opposite King Street, the point where he would have to turn off and leave the esplanade and the "front," as the inhabitants term it, he paused a moment, looked longingly to right and left of him at the long terraces of neat houses facing the sea, at the "Nothe" on the opposite side of the harbour, at the sands, the bay, and the long stretch of bold coast to the northward and eastward, and sighed regretfully at the thought that he was about to leave the place once more for so long a time. He was enthusiastically attached to his profession--as every lad must be if he would make his way in the world-- but he was also attached to the place of his birth, and infinitely more was he attached to his father and sister; and though he was too manly to express sorrow at his departure, the feeling was there and would not be altogether ignored. It was, therefore, with but an indifferently successful a.s.sumption of cheerfulness that he exclaimed:

"Well, good-bye, old town! Who knows how many weary leagues I shall have to travel, and through what hardships and perils I may have to pa.s.s, before I tread your streets again!"

And, linking his arms in those of his father and sister, he crossed the road and pa.s.sed down the street to the railway-station.

Poor Ned! when he spoke so lightly he little knew that the words had so prophetic a meaning.

In due course he arrived in London, and, chartering a cab, made the best of his way to his new ship, which was taking in cargo in the London Docks. On arriving alongside his first act was naturally to give a scrutinising look at the craft and to mentally compare her with the _Bride of Abydos_, his former ship; and much as he thought of the latter, he was almost reluctantly compelled to admit that the _Flying Cloud_ greatly excelled her in every point most highly prized by a seaman. She was the very latest exponent of the shipbuilder's art, and of the success which has attended the efforts of the naval architect to combine, in the highest degree, a large carrying capacity with perfect sea-going powers and super-excellence in point of speed. She was just a nice, comfortable, handy size--twelve hundred tons register--steel- built, and of exceptional strength, cla.s.sed 100 A1 at Lloyd's; a beamy rather than a deep vessel, with very fine ends. And an innovation had been introduced in her construction in the shape of a pair of deep bilge-keels, which her designer a.s.serted would not only very greatly modify her rolling, but would also cause her to hang to windward like a yacht. She was an exceptionally pretty model, with a full p.o.o.p, and was full-rigged, her stability being most satisfactorily demonstrated by the fact that her skysail-yards were aloft and crossed notwithstanding the circ.u.mstance that she had only just begun to receive her cargo. She was painted grey, with a broad white riband and painted ports, her top-sides being black. She carried a very handsome, well-executed carving of a woman, with long, streaming hair and fluttering drapery, under her bowsprit, by way of figurehead; and Ned noted with deep satisfaction, that instead of the double topsail-yards now so common in large ships, she was fitted with single revolving yards for patent reefing topsails.

He was interrupted in the midst of his admiring scrutiny by a hail from Mr Bryce, the chief-mate, who, after a somewhat off-hand welcome, informed him that he was wanted to a.s.sist in receiving and taking account of the cargo, which was coming down too rapidly to be dealt with by one man. Stowing away his "dunnage," therefore, in the after deck- house, and flinging his bedding into the berth which he selected for his own occupation, he quickly rejoined the mate, who furnished him with book and pencil, and stationed him at the after hatchway to take account of everything which pa.s.sed down that receptacle.

As soon as the work of the day was over and the hatches had been put on and secured, Ned made his way to Captain Blyth's lodgings, and reported himself as having returned to duty.

He had observed, with some surprise, that the stevedores had left a large vacant s.p.a.ce in the centre of the main hatchway, and at the very bottom of the ship; and he had once or twice wondered, during the course of the afternoon, what could be the nature of the cargo for which this s.p.a.ce was being reserved. That it must be something heavy he knew, from the fact that the bottom of the hold had been selected for its stowage.

The secret, however (if secret there was), came out next morning, when several very heavy cases of peculiar shape were brought alongside; which cases turned out to contain twelve steel 14-pounder breech-loading rifled field-pieces, with mountings, etcetera, complete, and several hundred rifles, sword-bayonets, etcetera, for the use of the colonial volunteers. The nature and destination of the contents were legibly enough set forth in stencilled lettering on the outside of the cases, and they very naturally attracted a considerable amount of curiosity as they were carefully hoisted out of the trucks and lowered into the ship's hold. Among the onlookers Ned soon noticed a swarthy- complexioned man, who wore gold rings in his ears, and was dressed in a very natty suit of dark blue cloth--evidently a seaman in sh.o.r.e-going togs--who manifested quite an unusual amount of interest in the cases and their handling, and who finally climbed into the trucks and lent a hand in the slinging of them, exhibiting in the performance of his self- imposed task a very considerable amount of smartness and seamanlike dexterity. And when the cases were all at length safely deposited in their destined place on the dunnage in the bottom of the hold, the man was observed narrowly scrutinising the ship herself--hull, spars, and rigging--with just that appearance of intelligent and appreciative interest which a smart seaman would be likely to bestow upon so handsome and well-appointed a craft as was the _Flying Cloud_.

The cargo came alongside with very satisfactory rapidity, and on the morning of the eighth day from that on which Ned joined, hopes were entertained that the evening would see the loading of the ship completed and the hatches put on for good and all. The swarthy-complexioned man had been seen on the quay alongside two or three times since the loading of the guns. He had evidently taken a fancy to the ship; and Ned was therefore by no means surprised when, on the morning in question, he again appeared, and, seeing Captain Blyth on the p.o.o.p, stepped on board, and approaching the skipper asked if the crew had all been shipped.

They had not, as it happened; so, after a short conversation, which seemed to give complete satisfaction to both parties concerned, the man was instructed to present himself at noon that day at the shipping office to sign articles.

"Rather a smart fellow, that," observed the skipper to the chief-mate, as the man swung himself lightly on to the rail and stepped thence ash.o.r.e. "I'm very glad to have fallen in with him; he is an A.B., and has been twice round the Horn, so he ought to know his business. And he tells me that there are five other men, former shipmates of his, and good, smart, active, willing men, staying at the same boarding-house with himself, who, he believes, will be willing to ship with us for the voyage; so I hope we shall have a good crew."

Mr Bryce a.s.sented, and dutifully echoed the skipper's wish; but it was with a tone and manner which seemed to indicate that he did not feel very greatly interested in the matter; and Captain Blyth, when he went ash.o.r.e shortly afterwards, felt more than ever sorry that his former mates were not to be with him on the forthcoming voyage. For, it must be explained, the late chief-mate of the _Bride of Abydos_ had been promoted to the post of master of that ship--or _captain_, as the masters of merchant ships like to be called--and the second-mate had met with an accident, and was lying disabled in an hospital. However, it could not be helped, and Captain Blyth was obliged to content himself with the hope that Mr Bryce--who had come to him with a very good recommendation--would turn out to be a better chief-mate than, at the moment, seemed likely.

The _Flying Cloud's_ crew were shipped that day, and they comprised a second-mate, a steward, a cook, a carpenter, a sailmaker, a boatswain and boatswain's-mate, eight A.B.'s (or able seamen), including the swarthy man--whose name, by the way, was entered upon the articles as Joshua Williams--and his five shipmates, and ten ordinary seamen.

These, with the captain, chief-mate, and four midshipmen-apprentices, made up a crew of thirty-one, all told; which, exclusive of the captain, cook, steward, carpenter, and sailmaker, neither of whom kept watch, made up a crew of thirteen hands in a watch, none too many for a full- rigged ship of the size of the _Flying Cloud_, with such a spread of canvas as she could show to the breeze.

During the afternoon Ned made a little journey up into the Minories, to the studio of a clever marine artist to whom he had given a commission to paint the portrait of the ship; and when he reached the place he was much gratified to find that not only was the picture finished, but also that it was a capital representation of the _Flying Cloud_ as she would appear at sea under all plain sail upon a taut bowline. Her ensign was shown flying from the peak; the house-flag--a large square white flag, with blue border, blue Saint Andrew's cross, and a large letter B in red in the centre--floated from the main-skysail-mast-head, and her number from the mizen, in response to a signal from another ship seen in the distance. It was a very spirited picture, and as Ned paid down its price, and gave instructions for its immediate despatch to his father's address, he felt that the money had been well laid out.

The hatches were put on, and, with the exception of the after-hatch, battened down that evening; and, whilst this was being done, Captain Blyth made his appearance on board, accompanied by a friend, a certain Captain Spence, who had been invited to take a farewell gla.s.s of wine in the _Flying Cloud's_ saloon. Captain Spence was in command of a very fine ship, named the _Southern Cross_, some two hundred tons larger than the _Flying Cloud_. She also was in the Australian trade; and though the two ships belonged to rival lines, and there was intense emulation between the skippers of the "Bruce" and the "Constellation" clippers, Captains Blyth and Spence were old and sincere friends, and the rivalry between them was all in good part. They had long been secretly anxious to have a fair race together; but hitherto circ.u.mstances had been against them. Now, however, their opportunity had come, for the _Southern Cross_ had also been loading in the London docks for Melbourne, the port to which the _Flying Cloud_ was bound, and, like the latter, was to haul out of dock with the morrow's tide; and the two skippers had each made a bet of a new hat that his own ship would make the pa.s.sage from Gravesend to Port Phillip Heads in a less number of hours than the other, which bet was now to be ratified over their parting gla.s.s of wine. The _Southern Cross_, however, would get the start by about one day, as the _Flying Cloud_ was to call at Tilbury Fort to take on board a quant.i.ty of ammunition for the guns and rifles which she was carrying out, and Captain Spence was cherishing an inward hope that a fine easterly breeze which had been blowing for some days would carry him well down channel and then chop round from the southward in good time to baffle his old friend during the pa.s.sage of the _Flying Cloud_ through the Downs. A somewhat curious and amusing characteristic of the friendly rivalry between the skippers was that, whilst each implicitly believed in his own ship, he affected a faith in the superior qualities of the other, and framed his remarks accordingly. So when the little farewell chat and the parting bottle of wine had come to an end, and Captain Spence rose to go, he held out his hand with:

"Well, good-bye, Blyth, and a pleasant pa.s.sage to you. You will catch us somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Line, I expect, if not before; and, should the weather be fine, I hope you will come on board and dine with me, and make the acquaintance of my pa.s.sengers, who, I a.s.sure you, seem to be very capital people."

"Thank you very much," was the response; "but you know very well that this poor little ship has no chance whatever with such a spanking craft as the _Southern Cross_. Look how deep we are in the water; and we don't even know our proper trim. Then, too, the gla.s.s seems inclined to drop a little, which probably means that the wind is going to haul round from the southward, which, with the twenty-four hours' start you will have, will carry you down channel nicely enough, whilst we shall be hung up in the Downs. So that, altogether, I consider you ought to reach Melbourne about eight days, at least, ahead of us, which will give you ample time to tell them that we are coming."

And so, with mutual protestations of disbelief in each other's prognostications, the rival skippers laughingly shook hands and parted.

On the following morning the two ships hauled out of dock, the _Southern Cross_ leading, and proceeded down the river in tow, the one anchoring off Gravesend to take her pa.s.sengers on board, whilst the other went alongside the wharf at Tilbury Fort. The ammunition was all ready for shipment, as it happened; and, securely packed in copper-lined cases, was that same afternoon carefully stowed on top of all in the after hatchway, whence, if necessary, it could be easily and quickly removed and launched overboard in case of an outbreak of fire. The _Southern Cross_, meanwhile, with her tug hanging on to her, had only paused long enough to allow of her captain going on sh.o.r.e and fetching off her pa.s.sengers, when she had proceeded. The _Flying Cloud_, on the other hand, having now completed her cargo, and battened down everything, shifted her berth and anch.o.r.ed off Gravesend pier; but, as it had not been expected that she would receive quite such quick despatch at Tilbury, the pa.s.sengers would not be on board until the following morning, so there was no alternative but to wait for them. In the meantime there was plenty for the crew to do in getting the decks cleaned up and everything made ship-shape; and this task was so satisfactorily performed, under the supervision of the mates, that Captain Blyth's spirits rose, and he began to hope that he had secured not only a good crew, but good officers as well. He was also particularly pleased to notice that the steerage pa.s.sengers--twelve in number, all men, who had joined the ship in the docks on the preceding evening--though a rough-looking lot, were scarcely as bad as they looked, evincing a distinct inclination to make themselves useful and to a.s.sist the crew as much as possible.

On the following morning, directly after breakfast, Captain Blyth proceeded on sh.o.r.e in his gig to look up his pa.s.sengers; and about ten o'clock they were seen approaching the ship, a sh.o.r.e-boat being in attendance with the trunks, portmanteaux, etcetera, which contained their immediate necessaries (the bulk of their luggage having been sent on board whilst the ship was in dock). Upon this, the windla.s.s was at once manned, the cable hove short, and the tug signalled to come alongside and take the tow-rope. These preparations were still actively in progress when the two boats pulled alongside the ship; and by the time that the pa.s.sengers had reached the decks and their luggage had been pa.s.sed up, the tug had received the tow-rope and had pa.s.sed ahead, and the anchor was reported ready for tripping. The sh.o.r.e-boat was then discharged, the gig hoisted up, the windla.s.s was again manned, the paddles of the tug began to revolve, the anchor was broken out of the ground, and the long voyage had at length actually commenced.

The saloon pa.s.sengers were seven in number (quite a pleasant little family party, Captain Blyth averred), and they consisted of a Doctor and Mrs Henderson, with their daughter, Lucille, aged six; Miss Sibylla Stanhope, Mrs Henderson's sister; Mr and Mrs Gaunt, and their son, Percy, aged seven.

Dr Henderson was a medical man who, notwithstanding his undoubted ability, had found it difficult to establish a satisfactory practice in England, and was therefore going to try his fortune in the southern hemisphere, taking his family and his wife's orphan sister with him; and Mr Gaunt was a civil engineer on his way to the colony to take up a lucrative professional appointment. They were both clever, quiet, una.s.suming men, very gentlemanly in manner, but with nothing particularly striking in their appearance; the kind of men, in fact, of whom it is impossible to predict whether they will, in case of emergency, turn out to be heroes or mere useless inc.u.mbrances.

The ladies were very much more interesting. Mrs Henderson was a very handsome, dark-eyed young matron of medium height, and a temper as perfect as her form; in short, a very charming person altogether. Miss Stanhope bore a very marked resemblance to her sister, except that she was much younger, being barely eighteen years of age; but there were not wanting indications that her charms would one day even surpa.s.s those of the lovely Mrs Henderson Mrs Gaunt was a _pet.i.te_ blonde, very pretty and engaging, and an excellent foil to Mrs Henderson, the two ladies being of exactly opposite types of beauty. Of the children no more need be said than that they were light-hearted, joyous, and just well-behaved enough to show that their parents did not intend to spoil them if it could possibly be helped.

The first act of the saloon pa.s.sengers, on reaching the deck, was to inquire for their respective cabins, of which they at once took possession, and forthwith set about arranging in such manner as they judged would prove most convenient during the long journey they had before them. The trunks uncorded, and the heavier work done, the gentlemen had it gently insinuated to them by their fair partners that they were rather in the way than otherwise; and they accordingly adjourned to the p.o.o.p with the youngsters, where, over a cigar, they soon made acquaintance with each other and with the ship's officers. By luncheon-time they had mutually arrived at the conclusion that they were likely to get on exceedingly well together, that the captain was a capital fellow, the mates but so-so, the midshipmen very gentlemanly lads, and the ship everything that could be wished; and that, on the whole, they were justified in expecting the pa.s.sage to be as pleasant as it was likely to prove long. The ladies, meanwhile, had been busy below, and had found time not only to convert their somewhat cramped quarters into perfect bowers of comfort and convenience, but also to follow the gentlemen's example, by cultivating mutually friendly relations; so that when the little party sat down to luncheon they felt almost as much at home with each other as though they had been acquainted for the best part of their lives, instead of for a few hours only.

CHAPTER TWO.

ON BOARD THE "FLYING CLOUD."

The weather was gloriously fine; much too fine, indeed, to suit Captain Blyth, for, as he and his friend Captain Spence had foreseen, the easterly breeze which had prevailed for so long had at length died completely away, leaving the surface of the river as smooth as a sheet of polished silver. The air had grown much warmer, a sure precursor of a southerly wind; and the ladies had, in consequence, changed their dresses immediately after luncheon, discarding the woollen fabrics in which they had embarked and subst.i.tuting for them dainty costumes of cool, light, flimsy material, arrayed in which they established themselves for the afternoon on the p.o.o.p.

It was somewhat late that night when the _Flying Cloud_ rounded the North Foreland; and, as Captain Blyth had feared, the little breeze which had sprung up with the setting of the sun was all out from the southward. There was, however, a capital moon, almost full; the tide, too, was in their favour. So, instead of anchoring in the Downs until next day, as had been his first intention, he determined to keep on; and all sail was accordingly made upon the ship as soon as the tug had cast off the tow-rope. A stretch was made across the channel towards the French coast, in the direction of Gravelines; and great was the satisfaction of all hands when they found that the ship, on a taut bowline, and with only wind enough to heel her some six inches under every st.i.tch of plain sail they could set upon her, was slipping along through the water at the rate of fully five knots, and that, too, so cleanly that the ripple under the bows was inaudible to the men on the forecastle unless they put their heads over the side and listened for it, whilst scarcely a whirl or a bubble was to be seen in the long smooth wake which she left behind her.

The breeze continued scant all night, notwithstanding which the _Flying Cloud_ was, at eight o'clock next morning, as close to the French coast as Captain Blyth cared to take her, and she was accordingly hove about, the wind so far favouring her that it was confidently hoped she would weather Beachy Head and so pa.s.s out clear of everything. With the rising of the sun the wind gave promise of freshening, which promise was so far fulfilled that by noon the ship was skimming along at a pace of over nine knots an hour, she being at the time just abreast of Calais.

The breeze still increasing, and the tide being again in their favour, Cape Grisnez was pa.s.sed little more than an hour later; and then, running out from under the lee of the land, the swell of the channel almost immediately began to make itself felt. The full strength of the wind at the same time also became apparent, and the ship, now heeling over sufficiently to send the water spouting up through the scupper- holes with every lee-roll, increased her pace to a fair, honest ten knots, steering "full and by." Captain Blyth was simply enchanted with the performance of his new command, feeling fully convinced (though he did not yet venture to give utterance to his conviction) that in her, that hitherto invincible clipper, the _Southern Cross_, would at length a.s.suredly find she had met her match. By three o'clock Dungeness was broad on the lee-bow; by four o'clock it was fairly abaft the beam; and when the pa.s.sengers went on deck after dinner they found the ship in the act of weathering Beachy, though without very much room to spare, the wind evincing an inclination to veer round from the westward. At eight o'clock next morning, when Ned came on deck to keep the forenoon watch, he saw that he was on familiar ground, the ship being about midway between Saint Catherine's Point and Saint Alban's Head, the high land at the east end of the Isle of Wight looming like a white cloud on the horizon astern, or rather on the starboard quarter, whilst Saint Alban's gleamed brilliantly in the bright sunlight on the starboard bow. The ship was still close-hauled on the larboard tack and going about six knots, the wind having headed her somewhat during the night and fallen lighter. The weather was magnificent, and everybody was in capital spirits. Captain Blyth was pleased because, though the ship was not just then travelling at any great speed, he had at all events got half- way down the channel; the pa.s.sengers were pleased because they were having such a splendid view of the coast--with the prospect of getting a still better view later on in the day, as Ned informed them--and most pleased of all was Ned himself, because he not only looked forward to getting one more glimpse of dear old Weymouth itself, but also hoped to be able to make his near vicinity known to his father.

Noon found the _Flying Cloud_ abreast of Saint Alban's Head and within half a mile of the sh.o.r.e; and, this bold promontory once rounded, all hands found themselves face to face with that magnificent panorama of rolling downs, smiling valleys, tiny strips of snow-white beach, and lofty precipitous chalk-cliffs, which help to make the scenery of Weymouth Bay one of the fairest prospects within the boundaries of the British island.

The ship was reaching right down along the coast at a distance of little more than two miles from the sh.o.r.e, and though it was now his watch below, Ned undertook to point out the various objects of interest as they crept into view, such as Warbarrow Bay, with Lulworth Castle nestling among its surrounding trees; Lulworth Cove, with its bold, rocky entrance; the n.o.ble natural archway of Durdle Door; the curious Burning Cliff, and so on; and when they were off the latter he made bold to ask Captain Blyth's permission to hoist the ship's colours, explaining that he would like his father to see the vessel and to know that he was so near at hand. Ned was a very great favourite with the skipper; moreover, the latter and Ned's father were old friends. The cheery answer given to this request, therefore, was:

"Yes, certainly, my lad; show our bunting by all means. We shall then be reported as having pa.s.sed, and the owners will be glad to learn that we have crept so far on our way."

Armed with this permission Ned lost no time in getting out the flags and hoisting them exactly as they were represented in the picture he had sent to his father, and which he knew must be in the old gentleman's possession by this time.