Under the Meteor Flag | Page 8

considerably during the night, and had hauled round to about due north; the sea went rapidly down; the sky was cloudless and intensely blue; the air became keen and frosty; and when the sun rose, it found us standing to the westward under topgallant- sails, without a single sail of any kind in sight.
CHAPTER THREE.
The "Sans-Culotte."
The adage that "it is an ill wind that blows nobody good" maintained its reputation for truth, even in the case of the seemingly unmitigated disaster of the previous night--that is to say, at least, as far as I was concerned; inasmuch as the knowledge and experience which I acquired of my profession during the operation of clearing away the wreck, recovering the sails, rigging, and undamaged spars, fitting the new topmasts into their places, and restoring the ship generally to her former condition, gave me an advantage which I could scarcely have hoped to secure in less than six months of the ordinary run of active service. I watched with unflagging interest the progress of every operation as the work went forward, with the result that I learned by actual observation, coupled with the best use of my reasoning faculties, and frequent questions to Mr Sennitt (who, I may say, heard and answered my inquiries with quite astonishing patience), the position and use of every rope that I saw fitted, the mode of working the yards, and much other valuable knowledge.
It is surprising how speedily human curiosity becomes quickened and aroused, if the individual devotes himself earnestly to the study of an art or science. The thirst for knowledge increases with its acquisition--at least, such is my experience--and is not to be satisfied until every mystery connected with such art or science has been mastered, and made the inalienable property of the student. It was so with me in relation to everything connected with my profession. Having gained a certain amount of knowledge concerning the mysteries of seamanship, I craved for more; and throwing all my energies into the discharge of my daily round of duties, made such rapid progress as astonished everybody, myself included.
The "Scourge," meanwhile, was slowly pursuing her course down channel; the wind, after the recent blow, having fallen light and baffling; it was not, therefore, until the morning of the 13th that she reached her cruising-ground, Scilly bearing at the time about N.E., distant 26 miles.
The day broke clear and cloudless, with a light air of wind from the southward; the water being smooth, save for the long, rolling swell of the Atlantic, which at the spot in question made itself very distinctly felt. The air was mild and springlike, the unclouded sunbeams struck with a perceptible sensation of warmth, and every one on board, forgetting the recent misery of cold and wet, greeted the welcome change with a corresponding flow of exuberant animal spirits.
The hands had just been piped to breakfast, when the lookout aloft reported, "A sail right ahead!"
Recalling to mind the skipper's request on a previous occasion, I at once ran down into the cabin for his telescope, which I brought on deck and handed to him.
"Thank you, Mr Chester," said he. "I have remarked with very great pleasure your real in the discharge of your duties. Go on as you have begun, my boy, and you will soon become a valuable and efficient officer."
Captain Brisac did not, however, himself go aloft this time; Mr Clewline, the second lieutenant, happened to be on deck at the moment, and the skipper handed him the glass, with a polite request that he would "see what he could make of her."
Mr Clewline, I thought, seemed rather to resent the suggestion as an affront to his dignity; he, however, made no demur, but proceeded aloft with great deliberation, and, seating himself upon the fore-topsail yard, took a very leisurely observation of the stranger.
Having devoted about a quarter of an hour to this occupation, he slowly closed the telescope, and carefully slinging it over his shoulder, descended to the deck with the same deliberation which had characterised his ascent. It was not until he had regained the skipper's side that he condescended to make his report; when, handing back the glass with a stiff bow, he said, "I make out the stranger to be, sir, a brig, apparently French, of about our own size; she is standing directly toward us, upon the starboard tack, under topgallant-sails."
"Thank you, sir," returned the skipper shortly; then turning upon his heel he went below to his cabin, Patterson having come on deck a minute or two before, to announce that breakfast was ready.
The news quickly spread through the ship that the sail in sight was supposed to be a Frenchman; and as the two vessels were approaching each other, and an action, in the event of