Ronald Morton, or the Fire Ships | Page 4

touched their hats to him.
"Well, my men," said he, "will you take charge of the ship, and bring her to an anchor in Brassay Sound to-night?"
"That will we, captain, right gladly," answered the younger of the two, glancing aloft with the eye of a seaman. "She is as pretty a craft as any one has ever seen in these waters, and well worth taking care of. What is her name? where are you from? and whither are you bound, captain? Pardon me for asking, but it is my duty so to do. They are the questions we always put in these waters."
"As to that, of course you are perfectly right," answered the captain. "Her name is the `Saint Cecilia,' her commander Don Hernan de Escalante, and she carries, as you see, twenty guns. We sailed from Cadiz, and have touched at two or three French ports, and the British port of Plymouth; after visiting Lerwick, we are bound round the north of your island, into the Atlantic again. You see that we have nothing to conceal. The character of this ship is above all suspicion; and you will find, my friend, that you have lost nothing by navigating her in safety wherever we may wish to go."
"Very likely, captain," answered the pilot, looking up into the captain's countenance. "I entertain no doubt about the matter, and if the provost and bailies of Lerwick are satisfied, I am sure that I shall be: keep her as she goes now for the Bard of Brassay. The tide will shoot her into the sound rapidly enough as we draw near it."
When in a short time the corvette was off the Bard or Beard of Brassay, as the ragged-looking southern end of that island is called, a turn of the helm to starboard sent the vessel into the Sound, and up she flew with smooth green heights on either side, here and there a few white buildings showing, and numerous rocks visible, till the pilot warned the captain that it was time to shorten sail. At a word the sailors were seen swarming aloft; studding-sails came in as if by magic, royals and top-gallant sails were handed, topsails clewed up, and with her taunt tapering masts and square yards alone, surrounded by the intricate tracery of their rigging, the beautiful fabric glided up to an anchorage off the town of Lerwick.
"Friend, you brought the ship to an anchor in true seamanlike style," said Captain Don Hernan, touching the young pilot on the shoulder. "You have not been a simple pilot all your life."
"No, indeed, captain," answered the pilot, "I have been afloat since my earliest days in southern seas, as well as engaged in the Greenland fishery. Lately I have been mate of a whaler, and maybe my next voyage I shall have charge of a ship as master. You have hit the right nail on the head--this is the first summer that I ever spent on shore."
"Can I trust you, then, to take charge of the ship round the coast?" asked the captain. "Perhaps, however, you are not well acquainted with that?"
The pilot smiled. "There is not a point or headland, a rock, or shoal, or island, which I have not as clearly mapped down in my memory, as are the hues on yonder chart, and more correctly, too, I doubt not."
"That will do--I will trust you," said Don Hernan. "What is your name, friend, that I may send for you when you are wanted?"
"Rolf Morton," was the answer; "but my home is some way to the northward, on the island of Whalsey. There you have it on your chart. Those who live on it boast that it is the finest of the outlying islands; and well I know that such a castle as we have is not to be found in all Shetland."
"Ah, it is your native place," observed the captain. "You therefore think so highly of it."
"Not exactly, though I remember no other spot of earth before I put eyes on Whalsey. I was, so I have been told, picked up, when a child, from a wreck at sea; and the men I was with called me Rolf Morton, the name which has stuck to me for want of a better. I know nothing more of my history; but I am prating of myself, and shall weary you, captain."
"Far from it, friend; I delight in a little romance," answered the captain. "How comes it, though, that you remained on shore this summer?--but I need not ask--one of your fair islanders, of whom I have heard so much, was your attraction."
"Yes, in truth," said the pilot, laughing; "she has become my wife, though; and as I could not bring myself to quit her, I bethought me I would try to gain my