by G. A. Henty
Chapter 8.
It was the week of the Ryde Regatta. At that time Ryde disputedwith Cowes the glory of being the headquarters of yachting, and thescene was a gay one. Every house in the neighbourhood was crowdedwith guests, many had been let for the week at fabulous rates, thetown was bright with flags, and a great fleet of yachts was mooredoff the town, extending from the pier westward as far as the hulks.The lawn of the Victoria Yacht Club was gay with ladies, a militaryband was playing, boats rowed backwards and forwards between theyachts and the clubhouses.
It was the first day of the Regatta, and the Queen's Cup was not tobe sailed for until the third. On the previous morning Frank hadreceived a note from Lady Greendale, saying that they had arrivedwith Lord Haverley's party the day before, and enclosing aninvitation from him to dinner that day. He went up to call as soonas he received it, but excused himself from dining on the ground ofa previous engagement, as he felt sure that Carthew would be one ofthe party.
"I suppose, Lady Greendale, it is no use asking you and Bertha tosail in the Osprey on Friday?"
"I should not think of going, Frank. A racing yacht is no place foran old lady. As for Bertha, she is already engaged. Mr. Carthewasked her a fortnight since to sail on the Phantom. Lady OliveMarston and her cousin, Miss Haverley, are also going. I know thatit is not very usual for ladies to go on racing yachts, but theyare all accustomed to yachting, and Mr. Carthew declares that theywon't be in the way in the least."
"I don't see why they should be," Frank said, after a short pause."Of course, in a small boat it would be different, but in a craftlike the Phantom there is plenty of room for two or three ladieswithout their getting in the way of the crew.
"Well, I must be going," he broke off somewhat hastily, for he sawa group coming down the garden path towards the house.
It consisted of Bertha and two other ladies, Carthew and anotherman.
"What other evening would suit you, Frank?" Lady Greendale asked ashe rose.
"I am afraid I am engaged all through the week, Lady Greendale."
"I am sorry," she said, quietly, "but perhaps it is for the best,Frank."
The door closed behind him just as the party from the gardenentered through the French windows.
The next morning George Lechmere went ashore with the steward, whenthe latter landed to do his marketing. The street up the hill wascrowded, and numbers of yachts' sailors were ashore. Stewards withthe flat rush baskets, universally used by them, were going fromshop to shop; groups of sailors were chatting over the events ofthe day; and carriages were standing before the fishmongers',poulterers', and fruit and flower shops, while the owners werelaying in supplies for their guests. People had driven in from allparts of the island to see the races, and light country carts witheggs, butter, fowls, and fruit were making their way down the steephill.
George had learnt from a casual remark of Frank's where the housetaken by Lord Haverley was situated, and going up the hill turnedto the right and kept on until he came to a large house emboweredin trees. Breakfast was just over when a servant told Bertha that agentleman who said his name was George Lechmere wished to speak toher. She went out to him in the hall.
"Well, George," she said, holding out her hand to him frankly, forhe was a great favourite of hers; "I suppose you have brought me upa message from Major Mallett?"
"No, Miss Greendale, the Major does not know that I have come toyou. It is on my own account that I am here. Could you spare me aquarter of an hour?"
"Certainly, George," she said, in some surprise. "I will come outinto the garden. We are likely to have it to ourselves at thishour."
She fetched her hat, and they went out into the garden together.George did not attempt to speak until they reached the other end,where there was a seat in a shady corner.
"Sit down, George," she said.
"Thank you, Miss Greendale, I would rather stand," and he took hisplace in front of her.
"I have a story to tell you," he said. "It is very painful for meto have to tell it, and it will be painful for you to hear it; butI am sure that you ought to know."
Bertha did not say anything, but looked at him with eyes wide openwith surprise.
"I am sure, Miss Greendale," George went on, "that the Major nevertold you that the bad wound he received at Delhi that all butkilled him, was my doing--that he was wounded by a ball from mymusket."
"No, George, he certainly never said so. I suppose he was in frontof you, and your musket went off accidentally?"
"No, Miss Greendale, I took deliberate aim at him, and it was onlythe mercy of God that saved his life."
Bertha was too surprised and shocked to speak, and he went on:
"He himself thought that he had been hit by a Sepoy bullet, and itwas only when I sent for him, believing that I had received mydeath wound, that he knew that it was I who had hit him."
"But for what?" she asked. "What made you do this terrible thing? Ithought he was liked by his men."
"There was no one liked better, Miss Greendale; he was the mostpopular officer in the regiment, and if the soldiers had known it,and I had escaped being hung for it, I should have been shot thefirst time I went into action afterwards. It had nothing to do withthe army. I enlisted in his company on purpose to shoot him."
Bertha could hardly believe her ears. She looked at the manearnestly. Surely he could not have been drinking at that time ofthe morning, and she would have doubted his sanity had it not beenfor the calm and earnest look in his face. He went on:
"I came here to tell you why I shot at him."
"I don't want to hear," she said, hurriedly. "It is no business ofmine. I know that whatever it was Major Mallett must have forgivenyou. Besides, you saved his life afterwards."
"Excuse me, Miss Greendale, but it is a matter that concerns you,and I pray you to listen to me. You have heard of Martha Bennett,the poor girl who disappeared four years ago, and who was thoughtto have been murdered."
"Yes, I remember the talk about it. It was never known who had doneit."
"She was not murdered," he said. "She returned some monthsafterwards, but only to die. It was about the time that Sir Johnwas ill, and naturally you would have heard nothing of it.
"Well, Miss Greendale, I was at one time engaged to Martha. I wasof a jealous, passionate disposition, and I did not make enoughallowance for her being young and naturally fond of admiration. Iquarrelled with her and the engagement was broken off, but I stillloved her with all my heart and soul."
Then he went on to tell of how maddened he had been when he hadseen her talking to Major Mallett, and of the conversation he hadoverheard in her father's garden, on the evening before she wasmissing.
"I jumped at the conclusion at once, Miss Greendale, that it wasCaptain Mallett, as he was then. He had been round saying goodbyeto the tenants that afternoon, and I knew that he was going abroad.What could I suppose but that he had ruined my poor girl, and hadpersuaded her to go out to join him in India? I waited for a time,while they searched for the body I knew they would never find. Myown father and mother, in their hearts, thought that I had murderedher in a fit of jealous rage. At last I made up my mind to enlistin his regiment, to follow him to India, kill him, find her, andbring her home."
"How dreadful!" the girl murmured.
"It was dreadful, Miss Greendale. I believe now that I must havebeen mad at the time. However, I did it, but at the end failed.Mercifully I was saved from being a murderer. As I told you, I wasbadly wounded. I thought I was going to die, and the doctor thoughtso, too. So I sent for Captain Mallett that I might have thesatisfaction of letting him know that it was I who fired the shot,and that it was in revenge for the wrong that he had done Martha.
"When I told him I saw by his face, even before he spoke, that Ihad been wrong. He knew nothing whatever of it. Well, miss, heforgave me--forgave me wholly. He told me that he should nevermention it to a soul, and as he has never mentioned it even to you,you may see how well he has kept his word. I wanted
to leave theregiment. I felt that I could never mix with my comrades, knowingas I did that I had tried to murder their favourite officer. Butthe Major would not hear of it. He insisted that I should stay,and, even more, he promised that as soon as I was out of hospital Ishould be his servant, saying that as the son of an old tenant, hewould rather have me than anyone else. You can well imagine, then,Miss Greendale, how willingly I would have given my life for him,and that when the chance came I gladly faced odds to save him.
"Before that I had come to learn who the man was. It was a letterfrom my father that first gave me the clue; he mentioned thatanother gentleman had left the neighbourhood and gone abroad, justat the time that Major Mallett did. He was a man who had once mademe madly jealous by his attentions to Martha at a fete given to histenants.
"The Major had the same thought, and he told me that he knew theman was a bad fellow, though he did not say why he thought so. ThenI heard that Martha had returned to die, and I learned that she hadtold her mother the name of her destroyer, who deserted her threemonths after he had taken her away. When he came back from abroadher father and mine and some others met him at Chippenham market.They attacked him, and I believe would have killed him, had he notridden off. The next day he went up to London, and a fortnightlater his estate was in the market, and he never came into thatpart of the country again.
"I have told you all this, Miss Greendale, because I have heardthat you know the man, and I thought you ought to know what sort ofa man he is. His name is Carthew."
Bertha had grown paler and paler as the story went on, and when heended, she sat still and silent for two or three minutes. Then shesaid in a low tone:
"Thank you, George. You have done right in telling me this story;it is one that I ought to know. I wonder--" and she stopped.
"You wonder that the Major did not tell you, Miss Greendale. Iasked him, myself. When you think it over, you will understand whyhe could not tell you; for he had no actual proof, save the dyinggirl's words and what I had seen and heard; and his motive intelling it might have been misunderstood. But he told me that, evenat the risk of that, he should feel it his duty, if you becameengaged to that villain, to tell the story to Lady Greendale.
"But if he found it hard to speak, there seemed to me no reason whyI shouldn't. Except my father and mother and he, no one knows thatI was well nigh a murderer. And though he has so generouslyforgiven me, and I have in a small way tried to show my gratitudeto him, it was still painful to me to have to tell the story toanyone else. But I felt that I ought to do it--not for his sake,because he has told me that what I had looked for and what he hadso hoped for is not to be--but because I thought that you ought notto be allowed to sacrifice your life to such a man; and partly,too, because I wished to spare my dear master the pain of tellingthe story, and of perhaps being misunderstood."
"Thank you, George," she said, quietly. "You have done quite rightin telling--"
At this moment some voices were heard at the other end of thegarden.
"I will be going at once," George said, seizing the opportunity ofgetting away; and turning, he walked down the garden and left thehouse.
"Who is your friend, Bertha?" Miss Haverley said, laughingly, asshe met Bertha coming slowly down the garden.
"Why--is anything the matter?" she exclaimed, as she caught sightof her face.
"I have become suddenly faint, Hannah," Bertha replied. "I supposeit was the heat yesterday; and it is very warm this morning, too. Iam better now, and it will soon pass over. I will go indoors forhalf an hour, and then I shall be quite right again.
"My friend is no one particular. He is Major Mallett's factotum. Heonly brought me up a message, but as I know all the men on theOsprey, and have not been on board this season, of course there wasa good deal to ask about."
"Well, you must get well as soon as you can," Miss Haverley said."You know we shall leave in half an hour for the yacht, so as toget under way in time for the start."
At the appointed time, Bertha joined the party below. Her eyeslooked heavy and her cheeks were flushed, but she assured MissHaverley that she felt quite herself now, and that she was surethat the sea air would set her up altogether. The schooner wasunder way a quarter of an hour before the gun was fired, and sailedeast, as the course was twice round the Nab and back.
Yachts were flitting about in all directions, for a light air hadonly sprung up during the last half hour.
"There is the Phantom," Lord Haverley said. "She has been cruisingabout the last two days to get her sails stretched, and they lookuncommonly well. Carthew told me yesterday that she would be acrossearly this morning, and that he should go round with the race tosee how she did. I think you young ladies will have a very goodchance of being able to boast that you have sailed in the yachtthat won the Queen's Cup. I fancy it lies between her and theOsprey. Mallett is getting up sail, too, I see, but as the Phantomis going with the race, I don't suppose he will. She is a finecraft, though I own I like the cutter rig better. The Phantom willhave to allow her time, but not a great deal, for the yawl is theheaviest tonnage.
"There is the starting gun. They are all close together at theline.
"That is a pretty sight, Lady Greendale. Talk about the start ofrace horses, it is no more to be compared with it than light todark."
After cruising about for three or four hours, their schoonerdropped anchor near the Osprey, which had come in half an hourbefore.
"Have you ever been on board the Osprey, Lord Haverley?" Berthaasked.
"No, my dear, I don't know that I have ever before been in any portwith your friend Major Mallett."
"Well, what do you say to our going on board for a few minutes, onour way to shore? Mamma and I are very fond of her, and I am hergodmother, having christened her."
"Godmother and curate coupled in one, eh, Bertha? We will go by allmeans; that is to say, we cannot invade him in a body, but those ofus who know Mallett can go on board, and the gig can come back andtake the rest ashore and then come to fetch us."
Accordingly, Lord Haverley and his daughter, Lady Greendale andBertha, and two others of the party were rowed to the Osprey. Franksaw them coming and met them at the gangway.
"We are taking you by storm, Major," Lord Haverley said, "but LadyGreendale and her daughter claim an almost proprietary interest inthe Osprey, because the latter is her godmother. Indeed, we are allnaturally interested in her, too, as being one of our cracks. Sheis a very smart-looking craft, though I think it is a pity that sheis not cutter rigged."
"She would look prettier, no doubt," Frank said; "but, you see,though she was built as a racer, and I like a race occasionally,that was not my primary object. I wanted her for cruising, andthere is no doubt that a yawl is more handy, and you can work herwith fewer hands than you can a cutter of the same size."
They went round the vessel, and then returning on deck, sat downand chatted while waiting for the boat's return.
"I sincerely hope that you will win, Frank, on Friday," LadyGreendale said. "Our sympathies are rather divided, but I hope theOsprey will win."
"Thank you, Lady Greendale, but I am by no means sanguine about it.
"I fancy, Miss Haverley, that you and Miss Greendale will see thewinning flag flying overhead when the race is over."
"Why do you think so, Major?" Lord Haverley asked. "The generalopinion is that your record is better than that of the Phantom. Shehas done well in the two or three races she has sailed, but shecertainly did not beat the Lesbia or the Mermaid by as much as youdid."
"That may be," Frank agreed, "but I regard Carthew as having beenborn under a lucky star; and though my own opinion is that if thePhantom were in other hands we should beat her, I fancy his luckwill pull her through."
Haverley laughed. "I should not have given you credit for beingsuperstitious, Major."
"I don't think that I have many superstitions, but I own tosomething like it in this case."
Bertha looked earnestly at him. Just before the gig returned
fromthe shore, she and Frank were standing together.
"I am sorry that I shall not have your good wishes tomorrow," hesaid.
"I have not said that anyone will have my good wishes," shereplied. "I shall be on board the Phantom because I was invitedthere before you asked me, but my hope is that the best yacht willwin. I want to speak to you for a minute or two. When can I seeyou?"
"I can come up tomorrow morning early," he replied. "What time willbest suit you?"
"Ten o'clock; please ask for mamma."
The next morning, Lady Greendale and Bertha came together into thesitting room into which Frank had been shown on calling at LordHaverley's.
"You are early, Frank."
"Yes, Lady Greendale. I am going for a run round the island. Itmakes me fidgety to sit all day with nothing to do, and I am alwayscontented when I am under sail. As I shan't have time to come intomorrow morning, for you know we start at nine, I thought that Iwould drop in this morning, even if the hour was an early one."
After chatting for a few minutes, Lady Greendale made some excuseto leave the room.
"She knew that you were coming, and that I wanted to speak to you,"said Bertha.
"Well, what is it--anything of importance?" he asked with a smile.
She hesitated and then went on.
"Some words you spoke yesterday recalled to me something you saidnearly four years ago. Do you remember when we sat next to eachother in the twilight, the day before you went to India? We weretalking about superstitions then, and you told me that you had onlyone, and said what it was--you remember?"
"I remember," he said, gravely.
"About someone who had beaten you always, and who you thoughtalways would beat you, if you came in contact again. You would nottell me his name. Was it Mr. Carthew?"
"I would not answer the question then, Bertha, and you surelycannot expect me to answer it now."
"I do expect you to answer it."
"Then I must most emphatically decline to do so," he said. "What!do you think that if it were he, I would be so base as to discredithim now? For you must remember that I said that only one of mydefeats was due to foul play, that most of the others were simplydue to the fact that he was a better man than I was. The matter haslong since been forgotten, and, whoever it is, I would notprejudice him in the opinion of anyone by raising up that oldstory. I have no shadow of proof that it was he who damaged myboat. It might have been the act of some boatman about the placewho had laid his money against my winning."
"That is enough," she said quietly. "I did not think that you wouldtell me whether it was Mr. Carthew, but I was sure that if it werenot he you would not hesitate to say so. Thank you, that is all Iwanted to see you for. What you said yesterday brought that talk wehad so vividly into my mind that I could not resist asking you. Itexplained what seemed to me at the time to be strange; how it wasthat you, who are generally so cordial in your manner, were so coldto him when you first met him at our house. I thought that theremight be something more serious--" and she looked him full in theface.
"Perhaps I am a prejudiced beggar," he said, with an attempt tosmile, and then added somewhat bitterly; "You see things since havenot been calculated to make me specially generous in his case."
She did not reply, and after a moment's pause he said, "Well, asLady Greendale seems to be busy, I will be going."
"You will come to the ball tomorrow evening, won't you?" she asked.
"I suppose I shall have to," he said. "If I win, though mind I feelsure that I shan't, it will seem odd if I don't come. If I lose, itwill look as if I sulked."
"You must come," she said, "and you must have a dance with me. Youhave not been keeping your word, Major Mallett. You said that youwould always be the same to me, and you are not. You have neveronce asked me to dance with you, and you are changed altogether."
"I try to be--I try hard, Bertha; but just at present it is beyondme. I cannot stand by and see you going--" and he stopped abruptly.
"Well, never mind, Bertha. It will all come right in time, but atany rate I cannot stand it at present. Goodbye."
And without giving her time to reply, he hastily left the room.
Bertha stood silent for a minute or two, then quietly followed himout of the room.
The next day Ryde was astir early. It was the Queen's Cup day.Eight yachts were entered: three schooners--the Rhodope, theIsobel, and the Mayflower; four cutters--the Pearl, the Chrysalis,the Alacrity, and the Phantom; and the Osprey, which was the onlyyawl. It was half-past eight, and all were under way under mainsailand jib.
The Solent was alive with yachts. They were pouring out fromSouthampton water, they were coming up from Cowes, and some weremaking their way across from Portsmouth. The day was a fine one forsailing.
"Have you got the same extra hands as last time?" Frank asked theskipper.
"All the same, sir. They all know their work well, and of course ifthere is anything to be done aloft, our own men go up. I don'tthink any of them will beat us in smartness."
As the time approached for the start, the racers began to gather inthe neighbourhood of the starting line; and as the five-minutes gunfired, the topsail went up, and they began to sail backwards andforwards near it.
As the Phantom crossed under the lee of the Osprey, the threeladies waved their handkerchiefs to Frank, who took off his cap.
"May the best yacht win," Bertha called out, as the vessels flewquickly apart.
"We could not want a better day, George," Frank said. "We can carryeverything comfortably, and there is not enough wind to kick upmuch of a sea. As far as we are concerned, I would rather that thewind had been either north or south, so that we could have laid ourcourse all round; as it is, we shall have the wind almost dead afttill we are round the Nab, then we shall be close-hauled, withperhaps an occasional tack along the back of the island, then freeagain back. There is no doubt that the cutters have a pullclose-hauled. I fancy with this wind the schooners will be out ofit; though if it had been a reach the whole way, they would havehad a good chance.
"Four minutes are gone."
He was holding his watch in his hand, and after a short pausecalled out, "Five seconds gone."
The Osprey had a good position at present; though, with the windaft, this was of comparatively little consequence. She was nearlyin a line with the mark boat nearest to the shore, and some hundredand fifty yards from it.
"Haul in the main sheet," Hawkins said quietly, and the menstationed there hauled on the rope until he said, "That will do, wemust not go too fast."
He went on, turning to Frank (who had just called out, "Twentyseconds gone"):
"I think that we shall about do."
The latter nodded.
"A bit more, lads," the skipper said ten seconds later. "That willdo."
"Fifteen seconds more," Frank said presently.
"Slack away the sheet, slack it away handsomely. Up foresail, thatis it," shouted the skipper.
As the boom ran out, and the foresail went up, the Osprey glided onwith accelerated speed, and the end of the bowsprit was but a fewyards from the starting line when the gun fired.
"Bravo, good start," Frank said, as he looked round for the firsttime.
The eight yachts were all within a length of each other, and acheer broke from the boats around as they sped on their way. For atime there was but little difference between them, and then thecutters began to show a little in front. Their long booms gave theman advantage over the schooners and the yawl when before the wind;the spinnaker was not then invented, and the wind was notsufficiently dead aft to enable the schooners to carry theirmainsail and foresails, wing and wing; or for the yawl's mizzen tohelp her.
As they passed Sea View the cutters were a length ahead, thePhantom having a slight advantage over her sisters. They gained nofurther, for the schooners fell into their wake as soon as theywere able to do so, thus robbing them of some of their wind. TheOsprey, having the inside station, kept straight on, and came upwith
the cutters as they were abreast of the end of the island. Allwere travelling very fast through the water.
"We shall be first round the Nab, sir," Hawkins said in delight."The schooners are smothering the cutters, but they are not hurtingus."
"Give her plenty of room when we get there," Frank said.
The skipper nodded. "I won't risk a foul, sir, you may be sure."
The three ladies on board the Phantom were seated on footstoolsunder the weather bulwark--although as yet the yachts weretravelling on an almost even keel. Miss Haverley and Lady Oliveuttered exclamations of satisfaction as the Phantom slowly drewahead of the others, and were loud in their disgust as they saw theeffect of the schooner's sail behind them on their own speed.
"I don't call it fair," the former said; "if a vessel cannot sailwell herself, that she should be allowed to damage the chances ofothers. Do you, Bertha?"
"I don't know. I suppose it is equally fair for all, and that weshould do the same if a boat had got ahead of us. Still, it is verytiresome, but it is just as bad for the other cutters."
"Look at the Osprey," Lady Olive said soon afterwards. "She iscoming up fast; you see, she has nothing behind her. I do believethat she is going to pass us."
"It won't make much difference," Carthew, who was standing close toher, said confidently. "The race won't really begin until we areround the Nab, and after that we shan't hamper each other. I amquite content with the way that we are going."
The Osprey rounded the lightship two lengths ahead, the Phantomcame next, three lengths before the Chrysalis, and the othersfollowed in quick succession. The sheets were hauled in, and theyachts were able to lie close-hauled for Ventnor. The three leadingboats maintained their respective places, but drew out from eachother, and when they passed Ventnor the Osprey was some fivelengths ahead of the Phantom.
"Don't be downcast, ladies," Carthew said, gaily. "We have a longway to go yet, and once round the point we shall have to turn tillwe pass the Needles."
The sea was now getting a good deal rougher. The wind was againsttide, and the yachts began to throw the spray over the bows. Berthawas struck with the confidence with which Carthew had spoken, andwatched him closely.
"We shall get it a good deal worse off St. Catherine's Head," hewent on. "There is a race there even in the calmest weather, and Ishould advise you to get your wraps ready, for the spray will beflying all over her when we get into it."
They were now working tack and tack, but the Osprey was stillimproving her position, and as they neared St. Catherine's Head shewas a good quarter of a mile to the good. Still Carthew maintainedhis good temper, but Bertha could see that it was with an effort.He seemed to pay but little attention to the sailing of thePhantom, but kept his eyes intently fixed upon the Osprey.
"I should not be surprised at some of us carrying away a sparbefore long," he said. "The wind is freshening, and we shall haveto shift topsails and jibs, I fancy."
They were now lying far over, and the water was two or three planksup the lee deck. Each time the cutter went about, the ladiescarried their footstools up to windward, when the vessel was for amoment on an even keel. When there they were obliged to sit withone hand over the rail, to prevent themselves from sliding down toleeward as the vessel heeled.
"There goes the Chrysalis's topmast," the skipper exclaimedsuddenly. "That does for her chance. I think I had better get thejib header ready for hoisting, Mr. Carthew; the spar is bendinglike a whip."
"Yes, I think you had better get it up at once, captain. It is nouse running any risk."
As the Phantom's big topsail came down, the Osprey's was seen toflutter and then to descend.
"He has only been waiting for us," the captain said.
Carthew made no reply. He was still intently watching the craftahead.
"It is just as well for him," the captain went on. "He will be inthe race directly."
Bertha was still watching Carthew's face. Cheerful as his toneswere, there was an expression of anxiety in it. Three minuteslater, he gave an exclamation as of relief, and a shout rose fromthe men forward.
Following the direction of his eyes, she saw the bowsprit of theOsprey swing to leeward, and a moment later her topmast fall overher side.
"What did I tell you?" Carthew said, exultingly. "A race is neverlost till it is won."
"Oh! I am sorry," Bertha said. "I do think it is hard to lose arace by an accident."
"Every yacht has to abide by its own accidents, Miss Greendale; andcarrying away a spar is one of the accidents one counts on. If itwere not for that risk, yachts would always carry on too long. Itis a matter of judgment and of attention to gear. The loss of aspar is in nine times out of ten the result either of rashness orof inattention.
"However, I am sorry myself; that is to say, I would prefer winningthe cup by arriving first at the flag boat. However, I am certainlynot disposed to grumble at Fortune just at present."
"I should think not, Mr. Carthew," Lady Olive said. "I am sure Icongratulate you very heartily. Of course, I have seen scores ofraces, and whenever there is any wind someone is always sure tolose a spar, and sometimes two or three will do so. I don't thinkyou need fear any of the boats behind."
"No, yet I don't feel quite safe. I have no fear of any of thecutters, but once round the Needles, it will be a broad reach, andyou will see that the schooners will come up fast, and I have toallow them a good bit of time. However, I think we are prettysafe."