"All ready with the cat, sir," was the responsive shout, soon followed by the customary words, "All ready with the fish, sir," while the men, the starboard anchor being got on board, duly secured, or, in more nautical terms, catted and fished, clapped on the port or remaining anchor, which now alone held the brig, gently rolling to the swell, and that in its turn being soon up and down, Mr Blount reported to his superior officer.

"Do you make out the boats, sir?" he added, as Captain Weber still remained looking towards sh.o.r.e.

"Ay, ay," replied the seaman. "There's Dom a.s.sevedo's barge, the lubberly Portuguese blowing and puffing like grampus at their oars."

"Rig out a tackle from the main yard. We shall have to hoist the lady in, and perhaps the Dom too, like a bale of cotton."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate.

"Make sail, Mr Blount; brace up the headyards. Let me know when you are ready."

Ten minutes later the pa.s.sengers were on board, and Dom a.s.sevedo's barge veered astern.

"It's rather hard I can't speak to my lady pa.s.senger," said Weber, as he went down below with the party.

"Tell him I can understand English, though I am afraid to speak it,"

said Isabel in French to Hughes, who was by her side.

"Ay, ay, my pretty one, we'll soon take the shame-faced-ness out of you; nothing like blue water for doing that. Well, you tell the Dom that I'll send all his traps below. Senhor a.s.sevedo, I can't give you much law," said the old seaman, in his rough hearty tones, as he turned to return to his post. "Steward, show the lady her berth. Look alive, man," he continued, calling down the hatchway.

The brig was now riding at single anchor, the headyards braced up one way, her afteryards the other, her sails flapping heavily.

"Heave away, my lads, heave away with a will," shouted Weber, the moment his foot touched the quarter-deck, and the remaining anchor was soon hove up, and properly stowed away on board. "Brace round the headyards.

Let fall the fore course. Take a pull at the bowlines, Mr Blount.

Touch her with the wheel, Adams, she will come up a couple of points yet," were the rapid words of command, and the "Halcyon" moved through the water on a taut bowline, heading nearly her course.

"A pleasant voyage to you," said Dom a.s.sevedo, as he bent over Isabel's hand in the cabin.

"Below there!" came in the captain's rough tones, "tell the Senhor a.s.sevedo that if he don't want to see the Cape, he had better get on board his barge. The tow-rope won't hold on long, I'm thinking."

Heartily shaking hands with all, the Portuguese gentleman, whose name and kindly nature are well known to men of every nation trading on the Zambesi, stepped over the side, the boat's painter was cast off, a last good bye shouted in Weber's stentorian voice, and the "Halcyon," with all sail set, to her royals, was soon standing off the bar, the bubbles flying past her rounded counter, as she slipped through the water at the rate of sonde six knots an hour.

Towards sunset the wind fell, and the brig began to lose her way. The stars came out shining through a thin haze, and sail after sail flapped against the masts, filling for a moment, then collapsing again, until soon the "Halcyon" lay rolling on the gentle swell, her cordage rattling, her blocks and tackles striking against her spars and rigging, her hull groaning, and her sails perfectly useless, not having even steerage way.

Leaning over the bulwarks, and looking towards the land, the faint outline of which could still be discovered about ten miles distant, Hughes was conversing with the captain.

"You think, then, we shall have wind?" he asked.

"I am sure of it," replied Weber; "look at the double halo round the moon, look at the sickly, watery appearance of the clouds, look at that fog-bank away to the southward. We shall have plenty of wind before morning."

"And from what direction?"

"Dead against us," replied the seaman; "we want to run to the south, and the wind will blow from that quarter."

"You have a beautiful craft, Captain Weber, and one I know can show weatherly qualities."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the captain, slapping his hand down on the bulwark, "I love every stick the jade carries, every rope-yarn aboard of her; while I am at sea, she is wife and children to me. Do you hear the wind sighing aloft? You would do well to persuade the lady to turn in."

Wyzinski, Dom Francisco, and Isabel were walking on the quarter-deck deeply engaged in conversation, and enjoying the freshness of the night.

"I did not think I should ever look back to the Zambesi with pleasure,"

said Isabel, as Hughes joined the party; "but really, the unostentatious hospitality we received from Senhor a.s.sevedo will always be remembered by me. It is a magnificent river, and I am sure must be fully half a mile wide in some parts. The coolness of the air, too; I never thought to see European vegetables, such as peas and cabbages, growing side by side with the mango and banana."

"Ah, with its plains of wild cotton, which no one takes the trouble to cultivate, its sugar-canes, indigo, and droves of splendid cattle, the country bordering on the Zambesi might be a very rich one," said Wyzinski.

"Which, otherwise worded, means if the colony belonged to the English instead of the Portuguese, Senhor," tartly remarked Dom Francisco.

"Not so, Senhor de Maxara; the English in South Africa have failed in many things, as regards colonisation, nor could I be guilty of such a thought."

"The object of my mission is to draw up a report as to the capabilities of the land, and I hope a new day may now dawn for the Portuguese colonies in South Africa," said the n.o.ble. "The country is rich in mineral products. Cattle and animals of all kinds abound in the plains, while coal, gold, iron, and copper could be procured for the labour of taking them," he continued; "but that is Captain Weber, is it not, leaning over the bulwarks; will you go with me, Senhor, and serve me as interpreter? I wish much to thank him for the arrangements he has made for our comfort."

Hughes thus left with Dona Isabel, a silence ensued. The sails were banging loosely in the brails, flapping against the masts, for the night was perfectly calm, but still there was the never ceasing throb of the ocean, causing the brig to roll lazily, the cordage and blocks to strain and creak, the studding sail booms to rattle, and the timbers of the stout brig herself to groan and moan.

"I was wondering, Senhora," said Hughes, breaking the silence at last, "what made you think of a voyage to so remote a region as Africa?"

"Oh, that is easily told. My father has a long pedigree, but a cramped estate. Our Portuguese n.o.bility are mostly in the same position. My mother, of the old and princely house of the Guzmans, died when I was quite a child, and my life has been pa.s.sed with an aunt, in France.

She, too, died, and the convent of the Augustine sisters was no longer a home for me; besides, my education was finished."

"I wish it had comprised the English language, Senhora," said Hughes, smiling.

"I wish it had, too, for I should like to talk to Captain Weber,"

replied the girl, laughing. "To continue, my father was honoured with his present mission, and was about to refuse it on my account. It may lead to a definite appointment, and as he never denies me anything, I easily persuaded him to accept, and to let me accompany him."

The brig's bows had been during the last hour all round the compa.s.s, but at that moment she lay with her head to the southward. A heavy puff of hot wind struck her suddenly, taking her aback and giving her sternway, the studding sail booms snapping off short in the irons, the broken ends with their gear coming tumbling down, those of the mainyard falling on the quarter-deck. The whole was over in an instant.

"In with the studding-sails, my lads, look alive," called the captain, as the watch on deck busied themselves with the useless sails.

"You will excuse me, gentlemen," said Captain Weber, "that puff is but a precursor of the wind that is to follow, and I must get the sails off the brig."

Taking off his cap politely, the captain turned to his work, while, with a ceremonious salute, Dom Maxara offered his arm to his daughter to conduct her below.

"Good night, gentlemen, we shall meet again in the morning," said the n.o.ble. A pressure of the hand, a low "Good night," a silvery toned voice repeating the word, and Captain Hughes found himself alone, gazing over the bulwarks into the blue sea, and thinking.

Thinking of Isabel, of course. Then she was not rich, and he was glad of it. But why should he be glad? for he was not rich himself, and beyond a few hundreds a year and his pay, he had nothing to boast of.

What on earth did Dona Isabel's position matter to him? A fair wind and the brig would spread her wings. A few days and the party would separate at the Cape, in all probability never to meet again. She was of an ancient race, the blood of the Guzmans mantled in that blush.

Well, he, too, was of old Welsh blood, and could count kith and kin up to the days when the Druids held their unholy rites and sacrifices on the heights of Penmaenmawr and Snowdon, when Caswallon La Hir, his ancestor, wandered through the forests of Caerleon and Bodysgallen, clad in his mantle of skins. But what was that to him, and what had he to do with the blood of the Guzmans? He would think of other matters.

Again his thoughts wandered, and, as he gazed into the blue ocean, he called up a picture of another land. The lofty rugged mountains of Snowdonia, the iron-bound coast, washed by the waves of the Irish Channel, the ebbing and flowing waters of the Menai Straits, a house which had stood the wear and tear of ages, embowered in its trees near the beautiful Conway. Would Dona Isabel--pshaw!

"Take a pull at the larboard braces, let fly the fore and main royal halyards. In with the canvas, my lads. Starboard the helm," shouted the captain, as the breeze from the south struck the brig, filling her remaining canvas, and making her heel over, as she gradually gathered way. "Steady! so!" and the bubbles began to glide by the vessel's side, the noise of the water slapping up against her bows, and the rattle of the blocks and tackle, as the canvas filled, and everything drawing, the "Halcyon," close hauled, on a taut bowline, stood her course as near as possible.

Gradually the wind freshened, and when Hughes and Captain Weber turned in at midnight, the "Halcyon" was working her way through the seas crested with foam, in that peculiar jerking manner usual to vessels close hauled; but with little cargo, and what there was light, she made splendid weather of it, topping the great waves, or wallowing in the trough, though, as Captain Weber emphatically observed, slapping his hand down on the cabin hatchway, "She didn't ship an egg-spoonful of water."

"Hands by the royal sheets and halyards. In royals. Mr Lowe, see to the royal braces," were the words heard, as the two stepped below, about midnight. Morning was scarcely dawning over the ocean as Captain Weber again made his appearance on deck. According to a seaman's instinct, his first glance was directed aloft, his second to the compa.s.s.

"Ah, I thought you would have a reef in the topsails before morning, Blount, and I see I am right."

"We had better go about soon, Captain Weber," replied the mate; "there is a little westing in the gale since midnight, and the brig has lain up a couple of points."