"No, indeed. Of course in a light wind the loss of all that upper canvas will tell, but at present she is doing well enough for anything, quite well enough for anything we are likely to meet."

"We have been holding our own for the last two hours with that felucca on the other tack, and we have been purposely sailing her a good bit off the wind. We could overhaul her soon enough if we liked, and most of those boats are fast; but we don't want to get along too quickly. If the wind freshens any more I shall tow a sail alongside to deaden her way a bit. I want to arrive off Gallipoli about half an hour after sunset."

Two of the broadside guns had just been brought up and put in position, and by midday the other six and the pivot-gun were in place, and the latter hidden by a screen of barrels and one of the gigs, bottom upwards, laid over it. The decks had been scrubbed, but, as Martyn said mournfully, it would take weeks to get them back to their former colour. The ropes still hung slackly, and although the schooner looked a good deal more ship-shape than when Horace had first seen her on the previous day, she was still as untidy as the average of vessels in Eastern waters. Her course was timed well, and the sun had already sunk some time, when she dropped anchor a short distance outside the craft lying off Gallipoli.

"I see some of their ships of war have come up from below since we pa.s.sed three days ago. However, there is no fear of their sending a boat off to-night," Martyn said as they gathered in the cabin for dinner, "and they will naturally suppose that we anch.o.r.ed so far out because we were going on down the straits the first thing in the morning."

Mr. Beveridge had remained in his berth all day. The reaction after the long excitement and anxiety told severely upon him. Although he had got up the first thing, he had been obliged to lie down again, being too weak to stand. The doctor, however, told Horace that this was only to be expected.

"He will want a week's quiet and plenty of nourishment to set him on his legs again. He has been fairly worn out. But there is no fever about him, and we can trust the Greeks to feed him up. It is just as well that he should keep perfectly quiet to-day and sleep as much as he can. To-morrow I hope I shall be able to get him up on deck. Then chatting with you and taking an interest in things will rouse him."

At nine o'clock sail was again made and the anchor weighed. The wind had gone down very much, and had veered round to the south, which enabled them to lay their course through the greater part of the straits. Two men were placed in the chains with lead-lines. The lights were all extinguished, with the exception of the binnacle. The tarpaulins were removed from the guns and the barrels and gig from around the pivot-gun. The watch off duty was sent below, and two of the keenest-eyed men on board placed as look-outs at the bow. The European sh.o.r.e, which was comparatively high, could be made out as a dark bank, but the Asiatic sh.o.r.e, which was low, could scarcely be seen. The chart was laid on the cabin table, the port-holes having all been carefully covered with curtains, and a tarpaulin laid over the skylight.

The men in the chains kept on taking soundings, Horace going backwards and forwards between them and the quarterdeck with the news as to the depth of water. Miller was in charge of the deck, while Martyn paid frequent visits to the cabin to determine their position on the chart according to the depth of the soundings. There was no fear of their meeting with any craft until they approached the forts; but in the darkness it was necessary to be very careful, as the water was shallow on the eastern side, and were they to run on to a shoal, going as they were with the force of the current, there would be little chance of getting off again, unless by lightening the ship. There was just wind enough to give her steerage-way. Men were stationed in readiness to let go the anchor instantly, should it be necessary; while ten men, in the longboat, paddled gently ahead of her, just keeping a tow-rope taut in readiness to tow her instantly in any direction that might be required. None of them were acquainted with the set of the current, and Martyn had only the depth of water and the dim outline of the banks to direct his course by. Several times, when the water shoaled, the crew of the boat were directed to row vigorously in the direction of the right bank; and once or twice there were but a few feet under the keel, and a keen feeling of anxiety was experienced on board until the leads-man announced that the water was deepening. At last, according to Martyn's calculations they could not be far away from the formidable forts.

The boat was directed to fall astern and hang on to the rope, in readiness either to come on board or to carry out any orders that might be given. The crew on deck were told to take axes and capstan-bars, so that should they drive down against one of the Turkish ships they could fend the schooner off as much as possible, or cut away any rope that might catch. They were directed to stand perfectly still, and not a word was to be spoken whatever happened.

The greatest danger lay in the fact that most of the ships of war were lying above the forts, and that, consequently, should an alarm be given by them, the gunners at the batteries would be in readiness to pour in their fire upon her as she pa.s.sed.

"The ground to our right looks much higher than it did, Miller. I think we must have been drifting a good deal over towards that side."

"I think so too," Miller agreed. "I have been fancying that we were getting over that way ever since we stopped sounding."

"At any rate we must take our chance," Martyn said. "I daren't sound again; the splash would attract attention half a mile away on a quiet night like this. Besides, we could not tow her the other way now; we must take our chance. It is not likely they are keeping much of a look-out on board. We might pa.s.s within twenty yards of a vessel without being noticed on such a night as this. I will stay at the helm, Miller. Her sails are still full, and we have got steerage-way.

Do you go up into the bow. Let two of the men take their boots off, and if they make out anything ahead, let one of them run to me like lightning with orders whether to port or starboard the helm."

The conversation was carried on in the lowest tone. Miller stole lightly forward; Tarleton and Horace were already there, one on each bow, straining their eyes into the darkness.

"We are a long way over on this side, Miller, I don't believe that high ground over there is more than two or three hundred yards away."

"That is just what I have been saying, Tarleton. The current must have set us across tremendously. Martyn is at the helm, and you see we are heading off that sh.o.r.e, but I don't think we are going more than a couple of knots through the water."

In five minutes Tarleton whispered:

"I think there is something dark just over the cathead."

At the same moment Horace stepped from the other side.

"There is a ship a short way ahead, Miller, unless I am mistaken."

"By Jove, so there is!" Miller said, looking out. "We shall never be able to clear her with the current taking us down."

He had kicked off his own shoes when he reached the bow, thinking it better himself to carry any message.

"Port your helm, Martyn," he said as he ran up. "There are two craft ahead, and we can never clear the outside one in this current. Our only chance is to run between them."

Martyn had jammed the helm down as Miller spoke.

"Keep it there," Martyn said to the helmsman, and sprang to the bulwark to look out himself. "That is enough," he said; "straighten her now, just as she is. You con her from the other side, Miller."

All on board saw the two vessels now. By their height and bulk they were evidently large frigates or men-of-war. They were not fifty yards away, and were about the same distance apart. Martyn pulled off his jacket and threw it over the binnacle, as its light would have been at once noticed by anyone looking down from the lofty hulls. Noiselessly the schooner pa.s.sed into the gap between the ships; not the slightest sound was heard from her decks. The two officers looked anxiously up at the sails, for had one of these flapped, or a block rattled, the sleepiest look-out must have noticed it. The silence on the decks of the Turkish ships was as profound as that on the schooner. Rapidly the latter slid between them, the current taking her along faster than the wind. A minute more and she was beyond them; still no hail was heard. Another minute and they loomed dark and indistinct behind her.

"Thank G.o.d for that!" Miller said in a whisper as he crossed the deck to Martyn.

"Yes, indeed; it was touch and go. I expect they have only an anchor watch. Most likely they are asleep; they would know that nothing could come up the straits with this light breeze. I think, Miller, those are the two eighty-gun ships we noticed as we came up. They were moored a good bit outside the others; in which case we have a clear course before us."

"Yes; I have no doubt those are the two," Miller agreed.

"Now we have only the forts; they are about a quarter of a mile further down. Go forward, please, and tell the men not to move till they get orders."

Another quarter of an hour pa.s.sed, and Martyn felt sure that they were now well beyond the forts. For a few minutes longer he held on, and then pa.s.sed the word along the deck that the danger was over. Now that they knew their exact position there was no longer any occasion for sounding. The men in the boat were called up, and the watch off duty ordered below, and when morning broke the land was far behind them. A brisk wind had sprung up from the south-east, and the vessel was just able to lay her course for Athens.

The doctor had remained below during their pa.s.sage through the straits.

"I should only have been in the way if I had been on deck," he said when Horace chaffed him for taking matters so easily. "When a man can do no good, it is always better for him to get out of the way; and after all there is no great pleasure in standing for hours afraid to move, and without any duty to perform; so I just chatted for a bit with your father, and directly I saw the sleeping draught I had given him was beginning to take effect I turned in myself, and had as comfortable a sleep as ever I had in my life. After sleeping on sofas for three weeks, in that heathen sort of way, it was a comfort to get between sheets again."

"Well, but you went to bed the night before, doctor?"

"That was so," the doctor agreed. "But a good thing is just as good the second time as it is the first--better, perhaps. The first time the novelty of a thing prevents you altogether enjoying it. I knew very well that if we ran into any of the Turkish ships, or the forts opened fire at us, I was like to hear it plainly enough."

"And would you have lain there then, doctor?"

"No, lad. I would have had my duties to perform; and I would have dressed and gone into the main deck at once, with my instruments ready to do anything I could for those that required it."

"Have you seen my father this morning, doctor?"

"Yes; and I am glad to say that he is all the better for his two nights' sleep. His pulse is stronger, and I shall get him up here after breakfast. The news that we were fairly out to sea, and that all danger was over, was better for him than any medicine. Well, lad, we did not think eight-and-forty hours ago that we would be racing down the aegean again, on board the _Misericordia_, by this time. We have had a wonderful escape of it altogether, and I would not like to go through it again for enough money to set me up for life in Scotland.

When we were on board that Turkish brig, on our way to Constantinople, I would not have given a bawbee for our chances."

When they arrived at Athens the Greek sailors who had personated Turks were landed. Mr. Beveridge was unequal to the exertion of going ash.o.r.e; but day after day he was visited by politicians, military leaders, and others. After a fortnight spent there, Dr. Macfarlane said to him:

"It is no use, sir, my giving you medicines and trying to build you up, if you are going on as you are now doing. You are losing strength, man, instead of gaining it. Each morning you seem a little better; each evening you are f.a.gged and worn out by these importunate beggars. I can see that it worries and dispirits you. It is all very good to wish well to Greece, Mr. Beveridge; but unless you have a desire to be buried in Greek soil, the sooner you are out of this the better. It is not so much change of air as change of thought that you require. Go anywhere, so that it is to some place where you will never hear the name of Greece."

"I think you are right, doctor. The worry and disappointment has, I know, been telling on me for months. Yes, I will definitely decide to go away, at any rate for a time. Will you ask Captain Martyn to come down?"

"Captain Martyn," he went on when the latter entered the cabin, "the doctor tells me I must absolutely get away from here."

"I am quite sure that he is right, sir. You have been gradually wearing yourself out ever since you came here."

"I think we will go back to England in the first place, Martyn. I have no doubt more bracing air will do me good. Then we can see how events go on here."

"Very well, sir. I think we shall be all heartily glad to be on our way back."

"You had better go ash.o.r.e at once, Martyn. Take Horace with you, and go to my agents. You know they have always kept the papers in readiness for a re-sale of the vessel back to me. Go with them to the consulate and have the sale formally registered. I will write a note for you to take to my agent."

Ten minutes later the gig took Martyn and Horace ash.o.r.e. They returned four hours later. There was a little move of excitement among the crew as they stepped on deck again, for through the Greeks, who had heard the news from Mr. Beveridge, it had spread forward. On reaching the deck Martyn went to the signal locker. "Now, Miller," he said, "down with that flag."

The Greek flag fluttered down from the peak, and as the British ensign was run up in its place Martyn took off his cap and shouted: "Three cheers for the old flag, lads!" and the shout, given with all the strength of the lungs of officers and crew, showed how hearty was the pleasure that was felt at the change. As soon as the cheers had subsided orders were given to get down the awnings and prepare to make sail. In a few minutes the clank of the anchor chain was heard, and by the evening the schooner was running down past the sh.o.r.es of the Morea.

A month later they anch.o.r.ed in Portsmouth. Here half the crew were paid off, and as during their absence from England they had had but small opportunities of spending money, they had nearly two years' pay coming to them, together with 30 a head, being their share of the prize-money. The remainder of the crew also received their pay and prize-money and two months' leave of absence. Mr. Beveridge and Horace had had many discussions on the subject, and it had been agreed that the _Misericordia_ (now again, since she re-hoisted the English flag, the _Creole_) should for a time be kept up as a yacht, with a complement of two officers and twenty men. Martyn, having been consulted, had chatted the matter over with Miller and Tarleton.