"It's nothing but an Irish woman, Master Galleygo, as you'll see for yourself, if you'll level this gla.s.s at it."

"I'll do that office myself," cried Sir Gervaise. "Have you any curiosity, gentlemen, to read Mr. Daly's signal? Galleygo, open that weather window, and clear away the books and writing-desk, that we may have a look."

The orders were immediately obeyed, and the vice-admiral was soon seated examining the odd figure that was certainly hanging at the lee fore-yard-arm of the prize; a perfect nondescript as regarded all nautical experience.

"Hang me, if I can make any thing of it. Greenly," said Sir Gervaise, after a long look. "Do _you_ take this seat, and try your hand at an observation. It resembles a sort of a woman, sure enough."

"Yes, sir," observed Bunting, with the earnestness of a man who felt his reputation involved in the issue, "I was certain that Mr. Daly has run up the figure to let us know the name of the prize, and that for want of a telegraph-book to signal the letters; and so I made sure of what I was about, before I took the liberty to come below and report."

"And pray what do you make of it, Bunting? The figure-head might tell us better, but that seems to be imperfect."

"The figure-head has lost all its bust, and one arm, by a shot," said Greenly, turning the gla.s.s to the object named; "and I can tell Mr. Daly that a part of the gammoning of his bowsprit is gone, too! That ship requires looking to, Sir Gervaise; she'll have no foremast to-morrow morning, if this wind stand! Another shot has raked the lower side of her fore-top, and carried away half the frame. Yes, and there's been a fellow at work, too--"

"Never mind the shot--never mind the shot, Greenly," interrupted the vice-admiral. "A poor devil like him, couldn't have six of us at him, at once, and expect to go 'shot free.' Tell us something of the woman."

"Well, Sir Gervaise, no doubt Daly has hoisted her as a symbol. Ay, no doubt the ship is the Minerva, after all, for there's something on the head like a helmet."

"It never can be the Minerva," said the vice-admiral, positively, "for _she_, I feel certain, is a frigate. Hand me the little book with a red cover, Bunting; that near your hand; it has a list of the enemy's navy.

Here it is, '_la Minerve_, 32, _le capitaine de fregate, Mondon_. Built in 1733, old and dull.' That settles the Minerva, for this list is the last sent us by the admiralty."

"Then it must be the Pallas," rejoined Greenly, "for she wears a helmet, too, and I am certain there is not only a cap to resemble a helmet, but a Guernsey frock on the body to represent armour. Both Minerva and Pallas, if I remember right, wore armour."

"This is coming nearer to the point,--hey! Greenly!" the vice-admiral innocently chimed in; "let us look and see if the Pallas is a two-decker or not. By George, there's no such name on the list. That's odd, now, that the French should have one of these G.o.ddesses and not the other!"

"They never has any thing right, Sir Jarvy," Galleygo thrust in, by way of commentary on the vice-admiral's and the captain's cla.s.sical lore; "and it's surprising to me that they should have any G.o.ddess at all, seeing that they has so little respect for religion, in general."

Wycherly fidgeted, but respect for his superiors kept him silent. As for Bunting, 'twas all the same to him, his father having been a purser in the navy, and he himself educated altogether on board ship, and this, too, a century since.

"It might not be amiss, Sir Gervaise," observed the captain, "to work this rule backwards, and just look over the list until we find a two-decked ship that _ought_ to have a woman figure-head, which will greatly simplify the matter. I've known difficult problems solved in that mode."

The idea struck Sir Gervaise as a good one, and he set about the execution of the project in good earnest. Just as he came to _l'Hecate_, 64, an exclamation from Greenly caught his attention, and he inquired its cause.

"Look for yourself, Sir Gervaise; unless my eyes are good for nothing, Daly is running a kedge up alongside of his woman."

"What, a kedge?--Ay, that is intended for an anchor, and it means Hope.

Every body knows that Hope carries an anchor,--hey! Wychecombe? Upon my word, Daly shows ingenuity. Look for the Hope, in that list, Bunting,--you will find the English names printed first, in the end of the book."

"'The Hope, or _l' Esperance_,'" read the signal-officer; "'36, _lee capitang dee frigate dee Courtraii_.'"

"A single-decked ship after all! This affair is as bad as the d----d _nullus_, ash.o.r.e, there. I'll not be beaten in learning, however, by any Frenchman who ever floated. Go below, Locker, and desire Doctor Magrath to step up here, if he is not occupied with the wounded. He knows more Latin than any man in the ship."

"Yes, Sir Jarvy, but this is French, you knows, your honour, and is'nt as Latin, at all. I expects she'll turn out to have some name as no modest person wishes to use, and we shall have to halter it."

"Ay, he's catted his anchor, sure enough; if the figure be not Hope, it must be Faith, or Charity."

"No fear of them, Sir Jarvy; the French has no faith, nor no charity, no, nor no bowels, as any poor fellow knows as has ever been wrecked on their coast, as once happened to me, when a b'y. I looks upon 'em as no better than so many heatheners, and perhaps that's the name of the ship.

I've seed heatheners, a hundred times, Sir Jarvy, in that sort of toggery."

"What, man, did you ever see a heathen with an anchor?--one that will weigh three hundred, if it will weigh a pound?"

"Perhaps not, your honour, with a downright hanchor, but with sum'mat like a killog. But, that's no hanchor, a'ter all, but only a kedge, catted hanchor-fashion, sir."

"Here comes Magrath, to help us out of the difficulty; and we'll propound the matter to him."

The vice-admiral now explained the whole affair to the surgeon, frankly admitting that the cla.s.sics of the cabin were at fault, and throwing himself on the gun-room for a.s.sistance. Magrath was not a little amused, as he listened, for this was one of his triumphs, and he chuckled not a little at the dilemma of his superiors.

"Well, Sir Jairvis," he answered, "ye might do wa.r.s.e than call a council o' war on the matter; but if it's the name ye'll be wanting, I can help ye to that, without the aids of symbols, and signs, and hyeroglyphics of any sort. As we crossed the vessel's wake, a couple of hours since, I read it on her stern, in letters of gold. It's _la Victoire_, or the Victory; a most unfortunate cognomen for an unlucky ship. She's a French victory, however, ye'll remember, gentlemen!"

"That must be a mistake, Magrath; for Daly has shown an anchor, yonder; and Victory carries no anchor."

"It's hard to say, veece-admiral, one man's victory being another man's defeat. As for Mr. Daly's image, it's just an _Irish_ G.o.ddess; and allowances must be made for the country."

Sir Gervaise laughed, invited the gentlemen to help demolish the breakfast, and sent orders on deck to hoist the answering flag. At a later day, Daly, when called on for an explanation, a.s.serted that the armour and helmet belonged to Victory, as a matter of course; though he admitted that he had at first forgotten the anchor; "but, when I _did_ run it up, they read it aboard the ould Planter, as if it had been just so much primmer."

CHAPTER XXV.

"There's beauty in the deep:-- The wave is bluer than the sky; And, though the light shines bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow, That sparkle in the depths below; The rainbow's tints are only made When on the waters they are laid.

And sun and moon most sweetly shine Upon the ocean's level brine.

There's beauty in the deep."

BRAINARD.

As Daly was the recognised jester of the fleet, his extraordinary attempt to announce his vessel's name was received as a characteristic joke, and it served to laugh at until something better offered. Under the actual circ.u.mstances of the two squadrons, however, it was soon temporarily forgotten in graver things, for few believed the collision that had already taken place was to satisfy a man of the known temperament of the commander-in-chief. As the junction of the rear division was the only thing wanting to bring on a general engagement, as soon as the weather should moderate a little, every ship had careful look-outs aloft, sweeping the horizon constantly with gla.s.ses, more particularly towards the east and north-east. The gale broke about noon, though the wind still continued fresh from the same quarter as before.

The sea began to go down, however, and at eight bells material changes had occurred in the situations of both fleets. Some of these it may be necessary to mention.

The ship of the French admiral, _le Foudroyant_, and _le Scipion_, had been received, as it might be, in the arms of their own fleet in the manner already mentioned; and from this moment, the movement of the whole force was, in a measure, regulated by that of these two crippled vessels. The former ship, by means of her lower sails, might have continued to keep her station in the line, so long as the gale lasted; but the latter unavoidably fell off, compelling her consorts to keep near, or to abandon her to her fate. M. de Vervillin preferred the latter course. The consequences were, that, by the time the sun was in the zenith, his line, a good deal extended, still, and far from regular, was quite three leagues to leeward of that of the English. Nor was this all: at that important turn in the day, Sir Gervaise Oakes was enabled to make sail on all his ships, setting the fore and mizzen-top-sails close-reefed; while _la Victoire_, a fast vessel, was enabled to keep in company by carrying whole courses. The French could not imitate this, inasmuch as one of their crippled vessels had nothing standing but a foremast. Sir Gervaise had ascertained, before the distance became too great for such observations, that the enemy was getting ready to send up new top-masts, and the other necessary spars on board the admiral, as well as jury lower-masts in _le Scipion_; though the sea would not yet permit any very positive demonstrations to be made towards such an improvement. He laid his own plans for the approaching night accordingly; determining not to worry his people, or notify the enemy of his intentions, by attempting any similar improvement in the immediate condition of his prize.

About noon, each ship's number was made in succession, and the question was put if she had sustained any material injury in the late conflict.

The answers were satisfactory in general, though one or two of the vessels made such replies as induced the commander-in-chief to resort to a still more direct mode of ascertaining the real condition of his fleet. In order to effect this important object, Sir Gervaise waited two hours longer, for the double purpose of letting all the messes get through with their dinners, and to permit the wind to abate and the sea to fall, as both were now fast doing. At the expiration of that time, however, he appeared on the p.o.o.p, summoning Bunting to his customary duty.

At 2 P.M. it blew a whole top-sail breeze, as it is called; but the sea being still high, and the ships close-hauled, the vice-admiral did not see fit to order any more sail. Perhaps he was also influenced by a desire not to increase his distance from the enemy, it being a part of his plan to keep M. de Vervillin in plain sight so long as the day continued, in order that he might have a tolerable idea of the position of his fleet, during the hours of darkness. His present intention was to cause his vessels to pa.s.s before him in review, as a general orders his battalions to march past a station occupied by himself and staff, with a view to judge by his own eye of their steadiness and appearance.

Vice-Admiral Oakes was the only officer in the British navy who ever resorted to this practice; but he did many things of which other men never dreamed, and, among the rest, he did not hesitate to attack double his force, when an occasion offered, as has just been seen. The officers of the fleet called these characteristic reviews "Sir Jarvy's field-days," finding a malicious pleasure in comparing any thing out of the common nautical track, to some usage of the soldiers.

Bunting got his orders, notwithstanding the jokes of the fleet; and the necessary signals were made and the answers given. Captain Greenly then received his verbal instructions, when the commander-in-chief went below, to prepare himself for the approaching scene. When Sir Gervaise re-appeared on the p.o.o.p, he was in full uniform, wearing the star of the Bath, as was usual with him on all solemn official occasions. Atwood and Bunting were at his side, while the Bowlderos, in their rich sh.o.r.e-liveries, formed a group at hand. Captain Greenly and his first lieutenant joined the party as soon as their duty with the ship was over. On the opposite side of the p.o.o.p, the whole of the marines off guard were drawn up in triple lines, with their officers at their head.

The ship herself had hauled up her main-sail, hauled down all her stay-sails, and lay with her main-top-sail braced sharp aback, with orders to the quarter-master to keep her little off the wind; the object being to leave a little way through the water, in order to prolong the expected interviews. With these preparations the commander-in-chief awaited the successive approach of his ships, the sun, for the first time in twenty-four hours, making his appearance in a flood of brilliant summer-light, as if purposely to grace the ceremony.

The first ship that drew near the Plantagenet was the Carnatic, as a matter of course, she being the next in the line. This vessel, remarkable, as the commander-in-chief had observed, for never being out of the way, was not long in closing, though as she luffed up on the admiral's weather-quarter, to pa.s.s to windward, she let go all her top-sail bowlines, so as to deaden her way, making a sort of half-board.

This simple evolution, as she righted her helm, brought her about fifty yards to windward of the Plantagenet, past which ship she surged slowly but steadily, the weather now permitting a conversation to be held at that distance, and by means of trumpets, with little or no effort of the voice.

Most of the officers of the Carnatic were on her p.o.o.p, as she came sweeping up heavily, casting her shadow on the Plantagenet's decks.

Captain Parker himself was standing near the ridge-ropes, his head uncovered, and the grey hairs floating in the breeze. The countenance of this simple-minded veteran was a little anxious, for, had he feared the enemy a tenth part as much as he stood in awe of his commanding officer, he would have been totally unfit for his station. Now he glanced upward at his sails, to see that all was right; then, as he drew nearer, fathom by fathom as it might be, he anxiously endeavoured to read the expression of the vice-admiral's face.

"How do you do, Captain Parker?" commenced Sir Gervaise, with true trumpet formality, making the customary salutation.