"Hands, up anchor!" he cried in a brave shout, to which the boatswain on the forecastle gave a shrill response with his whistle, while his mates re-echoed the cry between decks, up and down the ship fore and aft, "All hands, up anchor!"

The capstan was again manned below, and the marines and idlers heaved in the cable to the sound of the drum and fife, as before; although, this time, the tune was "The Girl I Left Behind Me," the tramp of their feet coming in every now and again as a sort of chorus to the music, while on the forecastle above, the boatswain overhauled the catfalls, and got up the up and down tackle, and the gunner's crew rigged out the fish davit with its gear.

"The cable's 'up and down,' sir," presently reported the boatswain to "gla.s.s-eye," our first lieutenant, who pa.s.sed the word aft in the usual manner to the commander on the p.o.o.p. "Cable's up and down, sir!"

The merry sound of the drum and fife, and steady tramp of the men round the capstan on the main deck continued until, anon, the boatswain once again reported to the Honourable Digby Lanyard, as he stood surveying the progress made in heaving in from the knight heads, "Anchor's weighed, sir."

This implied that the heavy ma.s.s of metal, of some four tons weight, by which we had been moored, was now off the ground, a fact that increased the strain on the cable and messenger, taking a longer and a stronger pull out of those working the capstan, and making the nippers, too, pa.s.s a trifle less briskly than before.

"Anchor's in sight, sir, and a clear anchor, too!" was the next cry from the forecastle that went from hand to hand aft, causing 'The Girl I Left Behind Me' to come out stronger than previously and the tramping feet to hasten their measured tread; and, in another minute or so, the ring of the anchor was chock up to the hawse pipe at the bows, and the boatswain piped "Belay!"

"Hands make sail!" next came from the commander aft, the midshipmen stationed in the tops jumping into the rigging and scrambling up the ratlines before he could shout "Way aloft!"

In an instant, up started the topmen in pursuit, as it seemed, of the middies in a sort of 'follow my leader' chase; and ere the vibration of the commander's voice had ceased to tremble in the air, the active fellows were spread out along the footropes of the yards, loosing the lanyards of the gaskets and casting them off, while the deck-men let go the buntlines and clewlines and other running gear.

"All ready for letting fall, sir," the middy stationed in the foretop was the first to sing out. This was d.i.c.k Popplethorne, a smart lad, who prompted the topmen under his charge to emulate his ready example, so as to get ahead of the others. Larkyns at the maintop was a good second, while Adams at the mizzen was the last; the officer of the watch, on hearing his hail, reporting "All ready!"

"Let fall and sheet home!" thereupon shouted out Commander Nesbitt, with the captain standing behind, as it were, to "back him up," following this order with another warning hail--"Topsail halliards!"

Our topsails and courses were at once spread; and, then, the men on deck stood by the halliards, hoisting the yards up as soon as the word of command reached them from the commander with his next breath "Hoist away!"

The wind was blowing steadily from the northward and westward as the yards were braced up, and the _Candahar_ payed off handsomely on the port tack with the tide, making for the Warner Lightship to the eastwards; and, as we trimmed sails and bore away from our whilom anchorage in the roadstead, the breeze brought out to us the silvery chimes of the bells of old Saint Thomas', ringing the good people to church while we stood out to sea.

There was a clear blue sky overhead and the bright sun mellowed the frosty feel of the air, lighting up the blue water around us, as we ploughed our way through the dancing wavelets; our n.o.ble ship curvetting and prancing along, similar to some gallant charger tossing its head and showing off its paces, throwing up the spray over her forecastle when she dipped deeper than usual and leaving a long wake behind her, like a lady's fan, all sprinkled over with pearls, stretching back to Spithead, now far away astern.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

DOWN CHANNEL.

Meanwhile, the first lieutenant and boatswain were busy forward with the forecastle hands, seeing to the catting and fishing of the anchor; and, as soon as our port bower was properly secured by the aid of the cathead stopper and shank painter, the courses, which were all ready to let fall, were dropped and sheeted home, topgallants and royals spread, and the jib and foretopmast staysail set, as well as the spanker aft, the old _Candahar_ being presently under a cloud of canvas alow and aloft, and slowly but surely making an offing and reaching out to sea.

We continued on the same tack until we had weathered the Nab Lightship, some ten miles out, when, being favoured with a "sojer's wind," fair both ways, we trimmed sails again and braced the yards up, wearing ship and gradually altering course from a nearly due east direction to one "west-half-south," fetching a compa.s.s down Channel.

We pa.s.sed on our starboard hand within easy cannon shot of the Isle of Wight, whose bold, projecting headlands and curving bays of white and yellow sand we opened in turn every minute, with their purple hills beyond and deep-shadowed valleys lit up ever and anon by a gleam of sunshine as we sailed gaily on; the blue sky above our heads seeming in the clear atmosphere to recede further and further back into the immensity of s.p.a.ce as we proceeded while the blue water around us became bluer and, more intense in tone, except where here and there the crest of a breaking wave flecked it with foam.

At Seven Bells, when the watch was set, we had given the snub-nosed Dunose the go-by and were heading for Saint Catherine's Point, going about eight knots under all plain sail, the wind freshening as we drew away from under the lee of the land, and the ship getting livelier.

Just as I was looking over the side and noting this fact, while watching the gull's circling in our wake, uttering their plaintive screams at intervals that sounded like the ghost cries of drowned sailors buried beneath the sea, Mr Quadrant, the master, who was on the p.o.o.p, s.e.xtant in hand, reported it was twelve o'clock; whereupon, the commander telling him to "make it so," Eight Bells was struck, the men being piped to dinner immediately afterwards in obedience to another order from headquarters aft.

Not being wanted any longer on deck, and the crisp, bracing sea air giving me a good appet.i.te, I hurried down the hatchway to join my messmates in the gunroom, mindful by my morning's experiences of the disadvantage of being late for meals.

Quick as I was, I found the majority of the other fellows not on duty had already forestalled me, chief among these early birds being my chum, Tom Mills.

This young gentleman, all in his glory, was lording it over poor Dobb's, the long-suffering steward, at a fine rate, I noticed, making Mr Stormc.o.c.k waxy with his remarks about the fare.

This, really, was not at all bad in quality nor scanty in quant.i.ty, as the irate master's mate a.s.severated with considerable heat.

It was much better, indeed, than most of us youngsters had probably been accustomed to when at school in our longsh.o.r.e days, no matter how we might growl and turn up our noses at it now; but, c.o.c.ksy Master Tommy, of course, was incorrigible, treating such an innuendo as this, in spite of the loud voice and pointed manner of Mr Stormc.o.c.k, with the contempt it deserved, the young rascal grinning and sticking his tongue in his cheek in so provocative a fashion that the master's mate instantly pitched a hot potato at him.

This caught Mr Fortescue Jones, the unoffending a.s.sistant-paymaster, in the eye, and made all the purser's clerks yell with laughter.

When I went on deck again, shortly after Three Bells, we were pretty well clear of the Isle of Wight, the Needles Rocks being off our weather quarter and some miles distant, with the Dorset coast looming ahead.

As I stood listening to the quartermaster instructing the helmsmen, one of whom was a young hand, telling them to keep the ship a couple of points free, until, as time went on, it came close to the next hour, two o'clock, or Four Bells; when, according to the routine of the service, Adams, who was midshipman of the watch, hove the log and reported that we were still only going eight knots, with the ebb tide in our favour.

At that moment, Captain Farmer came out of his cabin; and, hearing this, directed the officer of the watch, Mr Bitpin, whose rightful turn of duty it was, to set studding sails, not being satisfied, apparently, with the old _Candahar's_ progress, although she was doing her best and surging along in grand style, as I thought.

"Bosun's mate!" thereupon sang out the lieutenant. "Pipe watch to set starboard topmast and to'gallant stu'ns'ls!"

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the boatswain's mate from his post by the after-hatchway; and, almost in the same breath, his piercing shrill whistle was heard, followed by his hoa.r.s.e shout repeating Mr Bitpin's gruff command. "Watch set starboard topmast and to'gallant stu'ns'ls!"

"Topmen aloft!"

"Jiggers at the tops'l lifts!"

"Clear away stu'ns'l gear!"

These successive orders were now jerked out in rapid rotation by Mr Bitpin, who stood at the p.o.o.p-rail bellowing away like a wild bull, Captain Farmer remaining alongside him and surveying with critical eye all that was done as the hands scrambled up the rigging and bustled about the deck, casting off ropes and getting the booms prepared; until, anon, the captains of the fore and maintops and the captain of the forecastle, as well as the gunner's mate, whose task it was to see to the main topmast studding sail, reported "All ready!"

Therefore the lieutenant, with a deeper bellow than before, shouted "Sway away!"

In an instant, the watch on deck, bending on to the halliards with a will, hoisted the gleaming white sails aloft and sheeted them home; when, bellying out before the northerly breeze, they expanded their folds, making the yardarms creak again, and looking like the wings of some gigantic seabird, the ship herself bearing out the resemblance and swooping away in a heavy lurch to leeward, after apparently preening her pinions for a fresh flight, being now a perfect pyramid of canvas from truck to deck.

"Mr Adams," called out Mr Bitpin presently from the p.o.o.p, evidently in obedience to some quiet order given by the captain, to the midshipman, who of course stood immediately below his superior officer on the quarter-deck, "heave the log again and tell me what she's going now!"

"Very good, sir," replied Frank Adams; and, after the necessary interval of heaving the log-ship over the side to leeward and counting the knots on the line while the fourteen-second gla.s.s held by the quartermaster was running out, he sang out "She's going nearly ten, sir."

"Ah!" muttered Captain Farmer, who had come down the p.o.o.p-ladder and was waiting for the news before returning to his cabin, as he pa.s.sed the marine sentry before disappearing within the sliding door, expressing his thoughts aloud, "That's better, much better--I thought she could do it with this wind!" It was a beautiful afternoon; and, from its being Sunday, several of the wardroom officers came on deck after luncheon, having nothing especial to do below.

Amongst the lot were Dr Nettleby and Mr Nipper, the paymaster.

I also observed on the p.o.o.p the Reverend Mr Smythe and "Joe" Jellaby, who had contrived to secure sufficient snoozing, during the odd moments when he was off duty since the morning, to make up for the sleep he had lost by going to the admiral's ball and there meeting the witching houri of his dreams, "that chawming gurl," who had subsequently prevented him from taking his proper rest when he came aboard in the small hours of the middle watch.

The chaplain seemed to have taken a fancy to "Joe," for he stuck on to him as soon as he came up the hatchway; joining with some considerable difficulty in the lieutenant's const.i.tutional "quarter-deck walk." The reverend gentleman had not got his sea legs yet, and did not find it an easy matter to keep step, or indeed keep his footing sometimes.

This was more especially the case when the ship heeled over every now and again before the force of the wind and then righted herself on an even keel without warning, throwing Mr Smythe off his balance and causing him to clutch frantically at _Joe's_ arm for support till he recovered his lost centre of gravity.

The lieutenant's courtesy was put to a severe test in making him preserve _his_ gravity; albeit, he had an itching inclination to burst out into his jovial laugh at the reverend gentleman's ridiculous contortions and praiseworthy attempts to sustain a sort of disjointed conversation between the pauses of his grotesque sprawls and restoration to a more dignified att.i.tude.

As they were marching up and down the deck in this desultory way, describing the while a series of irregular ellipses, Six Bells was struck forwards, and the marine stationed by the taffrail at once shouted out in a high key, "Life-buoy!"

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mr Smythe in a shrill tone of alarm, which his squeaky voice was well calculated to express, bringing up suddenly against one of the quarter boats which was swung inboard from the davits; and knocking his head violently against the bottom planking, through the ship lurching as he stopped. "What has happened--is anyone lost overboard?"

"Oh, no," replied "Joe," laughing as usual. "It's only the jolly in charge of the life-buoy. He has to sing out every time the bell is struck to show that he's at his post, just as the sojers ash.o.r.e on sentry-go cry 'All's well!' to tell their sergeant they're not napping, that's all."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the chaplain with a feeble smile, putting his hand to his head as if in great pain from the blow he had received, "I see--ah, I see."