by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER X.
IN THE MOON'S BRIGHT WAKE.
"Now welcome every sea delight-- The cruise with eager watchful days, The skilful chase by glimmering night, The well-worked ship, the gallant fight, The loved commander's praise!"--_Old Song._
It was not without a tinge of sorrow at his heart that Jack Mackenziestood on his own quarter-deck and saw the chalky cliffs of Englandfading far astern, as the gloom of eventide fast deepened into night. Hewas not the one to give way to useless grief, but he could not helpcontrasting the hope and joyfulness with which he had last left homewith his present state of mind. He was not a post-captain thencertainly, but he had that--or thought he had--for which he would gladlynow take the epaulettes from off his shoulders and fling them in thesea--namely, the love of the only girl he ever thought worth living for.But she-- Well, no matter; that was past and gone. His love hadbeen all a dream, a happy dream enough while it lasted, while hisheart had been to her a toy. But then his father, his good oldcareless-hearted father. Wrecked and ruined! That he was in difficultiesJack had known for years, but he never knew how deep these were, northat they had so entwined themselves around the roots of the oldhomestead, that to get rid of the former was to tear up the latter andcast all its old associations to the four winds of heaven. Dear oldhomestead! Somehow Jack had dreamt he would always have it to go home toon every return voyage, always have his father there to welcome himback, always--
"Hallo!" said a voice at his side, "what is all this reverie about,Jack?"
Tom laid his hand gently, half timidly on his arm as he spoke. Halftimidly, I say, because it would not do for even the men to note ashadow of familiarity on poop or quarter-deck betwixt a commander andhis captain.
Jack smiled somewhat sadly.
"I daresay, Tom," he replied, "it was very wrong, but I was justbreathing one last sigh for lost love and home. Oh, I don't care forGrantley Hall so much; but then there is sister, and poor father, and itseems rather hard he should take service again. There is just enoughsaved out of the wreck for them to live on."
"Yes; and you'll win a fortune yet, mayhap an earldom, Jack--"
"Stay, Tom, stay. I care nothing for earldoms, and if I win enough tolive on I'll be content. One thing I do mean to win for Flora'ssake--honour and glory."
"Keep your mind easy about Flora," laughed Tom. "I'm going to win allthe honour and glory she is likely to want."
"I'd quite forgotten, Tom--brother."
"That's better. And, Jack, I know you'll get more ambitious as we go on.Now mind you, you're not so badly off. That wound was a lucky hit. Justlook around and beneath you. Ever see a finer frigate? Look at herbuild, her spars, her rigging, everything taut and trim andship-shape--the very ship seems proud of herself, considering theindependent way she goes swinging over the waves on the wings of thisdelightful breeze; swinging over the waves, bobbing and bowing to themas if they were mere passing acquaintances, and she proud mistress ofthe seas. Then, Jack, let me recall your attention to the fact that wehave five-and-forty bonnie black guns and three hundred and twenty boldblue-jackets to man and to fight them; and that _you_--you luckydog--are monarch of all you survey. Ah, brother mine, there is many asailor mo'sieur afloat on the seas at this moment 'twixt here andAmerica who well might tremble did he but know the fate that is in storefor him when the _Tonneraire_ crosses his hawse."
"You bloodthirsty man!"
"No, no, no. I've got one of the softest hearts ever turned out of dock,but it is all for king and country, you know. Behold how our good shipgoes sweeping through the deep! Look, my captain bold, we are coming upto the convoy hand-over-hand. It was a good idea giving them half aday's start, for some of them, I daresay, we'll find are lazy lubbers."
"Well," said Jack, as we shall still call him, "we must do our best tokeep them together. I would not like, however, for my own part, to goout in protection of many convoys."
"Nor will we; this is only a kind of trial trip. But if you are afraidyou won't have any fighting to do, you may be agreeably disappointed,as the Irishman said."
Jack Mackenzie laughed.
"What a fire-eater you are, Tom! I wasn't thinking of fighting. But if Ihave to fight, I'd rather these merchantmen were a hundred miles away.Fighting in convoy must make one feel as does the father of a family,whom he has to defend against an aggressor while the children clingtightly to his legs."
From the above conversation it will be gathered that the _Tonneraire_had sailed at last, and was in charge of a merchant fleet bound forAmerica. This was considered a very responsible task in these warlikedays, when the cruisers of the enemy were here, there, and everywhere inour ocean highways, watching a chance to seize our unprotected ships.The _Tonneraire_ had been chosen for her strength and her fleetness, andthere was no doubt that under so able a young and dashing commander shewould fulfil her mission, and make it warm for any Frenchman who soughtto attack the ships.
There they were now sailing as closely together as possible, becausenight would soon fall, and they could only be distinguished by theirlights. A cruise of this sort was seldom, if ever, free from adventure,and it entailed much anxious care and forethought on the part of thecaptain of the war-vessel convoying them. A good thing this for JackMackenzie. No cure for sorrow in this world except honest work. He wasreally, too, in a manner of speaking, a probationer. To do his dutystrictly, wisely, and well on this voyage would certainly entitle him tono step, not even perhaps to praise; but to neglect it, or even to beunfortunate, would cause him to incur the displeasure of the Admiraltyand hinder his advancement.
But a whole week went on, and though no Frenchman appeared on the scene,Jack and his fleet had encountered a gale of wind that had driven themconsiderably out of their course; and when one morning, about eightbells, a cry of "Land" was raised, he knew he must be in theneighbourhood of the Azores or Western Islands.
He was not altogether sorry for this; it would give him a chance oftaking in fresh water and of adding to the store of fresh provisions nowalmost exhausted. For ships in those days were vilely found, and the mencalled contractors were held in general detestation by every ship in theservice.
"_Sailing across the moon's bright wake was a French man-o'-war._" Page 93.]
The merchantmen under Jack numbered fourteen in all, and were ofdifferent classes--brigs, barques, and full-rigged ships; but longbefore sundown they were all securely anchored in front of San Miguel,and Captain Mackenzie, in full uniform, accompanied by CommanderFairlie, had gone on shore to pay his respects to the Portuguesegovernor.
San Miguel was not so densely populated as it is now, but very quaint asto its town, and very romantic and beautiful as to its scenery allaround. The governor dwelt in a villa on a garden-terraced hill in theoutskirts. He was very pleased to see the officers, but deferredbusiness till next day.
It was, however, while smoking in the veranda after dinner, and gazingdreamily away across the moonlit ocean, that Jack suddenly sprang up,and, clutching Tom's arm, pointed seawards.
Slowly sailing across the moon's bright wake was a French man-o'-war.