The peculiar state of the weather served to increase the romantic, almost supernatural appearance of the passage.
Cap alone regarded it with practised eyes, and even he felt his iron nerves thrill under the sensations that were awak-ened by the wild features of the scene.
The strange vessel was about two cables' length ahead of the _Scud_, standing by the wind athwart her bows, and steering a course to render it probable that the latter would pass within a few yards of her.She was a full-rigged ship;and, seen through the misty medium of the tempest, the most experienced eye could detect no imperfection in her gear or construction.The only canvas she had set was a close-reefed main-topsail, and two small storm-staysails, one forward and the other aft.Still the power of the wind pressed so hard upon her as to bear her down nearly to her beam-ends, whenever the hull was not righted by the buoyancy of some wave under her lee.Her spars were all in their places, and by her motion through the water, which might have equalled four knots in the hour, it was apparent that she steered a little free.
"The fellow must know his position well," said Cap, as the cutter flew down towards the ship with a velocity almost equalling that of the gale, "for he is standing boldly to the southward, where he expects to find anchorage or a haven.No man in his senses would run off free in that fashion, that was not driven to scudding, like ourselves, who did not perfectly understand where he was going.""We have made an awful run, captain," returned the man to whom this remark had been addressed."That is the French king's ship, Lee-my-calm (_Le Montcalm_), and she is standing in for the Niagara, where her owner has a garrison and a port.We've made an awful run of it!""Ay, bad luck to him! Frenchman-like, he skulks into port the moment he sees an English bottom.""It might be well for us if we could follow him," re-turned the man, shaking his head despondingly, "for we are getting into the end of a bay up here at the head of the lake, and it is uncertain whether we ever get out of it again!""Pooh, man, pooh! We have plenty of sea room, and a good English hull beneath us.We are no Johnny Crapauds to hide ourselves behind a point or a fort on account of a puff of wind.Mind your helm, sir!"The order was given on account of the menacing appear-ance of the approaching passage.The _Scud_ was now head-ing directly for the fore-foot of the Frenchman; and, the distance between the two vessels having diminished to a hundred yards, it was momentarily questionable if there was room to pass.
"Port, sir, port," shouted Cap."Port your helm and pass astern!"The crew of the Frenchman were seen assembling to windward, and a few muskets were pointed, as if to order the people of the _Scud_ to keep off.Gesticulations were observed, but the sea was too wild and menacing to admit of the ordinary expedients of war.The water was drip-ping from the muzzles of two or three light guns on board the ship, but no one thought of loosening them for service in such a tempest.Her black sides, as they emerged from a wave, glistened and seemed to frown; but the wind howled through her rigging, whistling the thousand notes of a ship; and the hails and cries that escape a Frenchman with so much readiness were inaudible.
"Let him halloo himself hoarse!" growled Cap."This is no weather to whisper secrets in.Port, sir, port!"The man at the helm obeyed, and the next send of the sea drove the _Scud_ down upon the quarter of the ship, so near her that the old mariner himself recoiled a step, in a vague expectation that, at the next surge ahead, she would drive bows foremost directly into the planks of the other vessel.But this was not to be: rising from the crouching posture she had taken, like a panther about to leap, the cutter dashed onward, and at the next instant she was glancing past the stern of her enemy, just clearing the end of her spanker-boom with her own lower yard.
The young Frenchman who commanded the _Montcalm_leaped on the taffrail; and, with that high-toned courtesy which relieves even the worst acts of his countrymen, he raised his cap and smiled a salutation as the _Scud_ shot past.There were _bonhomie_ and good taste in this act of courtesy, when circumstances allowed of no other commu-nications; but they were lost on Cap, who, with an instinct quite as true to his race, shook his fist menacingly, and muttered to himself, --"Ay, ay, it's d----d lucky for you I've no armament on board here, or I'd send you in to get new cabin-windows fitted.Sergeant, he's a humbug.""'Twas civil, brother Cap," returned the other, lowering his hand from the military salute which his pride as a sol-dier had induced him to return, -- "'twas civil, and that's as much as you can expect from a Frenchman.What he really meant by it no one can say.""He is not heading up to this sea without an object, neither.Well, let him run in, if he can get there, we will keep the lake, like hearty English mariners."This sounded gloriously, but Cap eyed with envy the glittering black mass of the _Montcalm's_ hull, her waving topsail, and the misty tracery of her spars, as she grew less and less distinct, and finally disappeared in the drizzle, in a form as shadowy as that of some unreal image.Gladly would he have followed in her wake had he dared; for, to own the truth, the prospect of another stormy night in the midst of the wild waters that were raging around him brought little consolation.Still he had too much profes-sional pride to betray his uneasiness, and those under his care relied on his knowledge and resources, with the im-plicit and blind confidence that the ignorant are apt to feel.
