Under the Meteor Flag | Page 8

misfortune, and that they were willing to
expend a charge of powder in acquainting us with their exultation
thereat.
By daybreak next morning we had everything ataunt again; the chase,
however, had run completely out of sight, hours before, and was, at all
events for the present, hopelessly lost to us.
The wind had gone down very 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