The Missing Merchantman | Page 8

eye detected the
ship reaching down along the east land, and even before he had
adjusted the telescope he had a presentiment that she might be the
Flying Cloud. He had received a hastily-scribbled line or two from
Ned--forwarded by means of the shore-boat, which had taken off the
passengers' luggage at Gravesend--which had made him acquainted
with the day and hour of the ship's sailing; and his long experience and
intimate acquaintance with the navigation of the Channel, aided by his
habitual observation of the weather, enabled him to follow the
subsequent movements of the Flying Cloud almost as unerringly as
though his eye had been on her the whole time. In one particular only
had his calculations been inaccurate, and that was in the speed of the
ship; he had not reckoned on her being either so fast or so weatherly as
she had proved to be, and his reckoning located her as being at that
moment within sight of but to the eastward of the Wight. When,
however, he saw a large ship, loaded, and evidently by the course she
was steering, bound out of the channel, and when he further noted the
clean, white, new appearance of the stranger's canvas, the peculiar
painting of her hull, and the very marked similarity of appearance
which she bore to the picture at that moment hanging in the place of
honour on the walls of his snug little parlour, he was quite prepared to
admit a possible error in his calculations sufficient to account for the
appearance of the ship where she actually was; and when he saw the
colours hoisted, he had, of course, no further doubt upon the matter.
The ship, it is true, was heading so obliquely towards him that he could
only see the house-flag at her main-skysail- mast-head; but that was
quite sufficient. The broad snow-white field, the blue border and cross,

and the large red B in the centre, were plainly distinguishable through
his telescope; and turning to his daughter he said, with just a faint
tremor of excitement in his voice:
"Eva, do you see that ship reaching down under the east land, yonder?"
"The one you have been watching so intently, father? Yes, I see her,"
was the reply. "What a noble object she looks, with her white canvas
gleaming in the sun! It is not often that we see such large ships as that
so close in with the land, is it? I wonder where she is going!"
"She is bound to Melbourne. She is called the Flying Cloud, and she
has a young gentleman named Edward Damerell on board her, who, I'll
be bound, is at this moment intently looking in this direction,"
answered the old gentleman decisively.
"Oh, father, you can't mean it!" exclaimed the young lady impetuously,
though she knew very well that her father did mean it. "Pray let us
make haste down to the boat and go out to meet him."
Her father looked irresolute, took another glance at the ship, then shook
his head sorrowfully.
"It would be of no use, my dear," he said. "Before we could reach the
boat and get her under weigh yonder ship will have tacked, and fast as
the Eva is she would never catch her in this light breeze. No; we must
be satisfied to remain here and see as much of the Flying Cloud as we
can. Perhaps when the ship goes about we may even succeed in
catching a glimpse of dear Ned himself through the glass."
At this moment the loud clanging of a bell, which was being rung
somewhere down in the harbour, smote noisily upon their ears.
"The very thing!" exclaimed Eva, starting eagerly to her feet. "Come,
father, we have not a moment to lose! That is the first bell. The Victoria
is to make an excursion to the Bill this afternoon, and if we go on the
trip we shall surely pass not very far from Ned's ship."

"Capital!" exclaimed the old man cheerily. "Come along, my girl; we
are neither of us rigged exactly in a style suited to our mingling with
swells; but never mind, we shall both pass muster, I dare say, and,
whether or no, we have no time to shift our canvas."
And away went the pair, without more ado, making the best of their
way toward the steps which lead down the side of the hill to the quay,
whence they took a boat across the harbour, the second bell from the
steamer admonishing them that they had no time to spare. They reached
the pay-gate in good time, however, took their tickets, and ascended to
the hurricane-deck just as the captain of the boat climbed to his own
private bridge. The last bell rang, a