appearance, that induced both the sailors to
believe he might be the commander of one of the ships that had just come
in view.
"Good-morrow, gentlemen," commenced this person, as soon as near enough
to salute the party at the foot of the flag-staff; "good-morrow to ye
all. I'm glad to meet you, for it's but a Jacob's ladder, this path of
yours, through the ravine in the cliffs. Hey! why Atwood," looking
around him at the sea of vapour, in surprise, "what the devil has become
of the fleet?"
"It is lost in the fog, sir; we are above it, here; when more on a level
with the ships, we could see, or fancy we saw, more of them than we do
now."
"Here are the upper sails of two heavy ships, sir," observed Wychecombe,
pointing in the direction of the vessels already seen; "ay, and yonder
are two more—nothing but the royals are visible."
"Two more!—I left eleven two-deckers, three frigates, a sloop, and a
cutter in sight, when I got into the boat. You might have covered 'em
all with a pocket-handkerchief, hey! Atwood!"
"They were certainly in close order, sir, but I'll not take it on myself
to say quite as near together as that."
"Ay, you're a dissenter by trade, and never will believe in a miracle.
Sharp work, gentlemen, to get up such a hill as this, after fifty."
"It is, indeed, sir," answered Sir Wycherly, kindly. "Will you do us the
favour to take a seat among us, and rest yourself after so violent an
exertion? The cliff is hard enough to ascend, even when one keeps the
path; though here is a young gentleman who had a fancy just now to go
down it, without a path; and that, too, merely that a pretty girl might
have a nosegay on her breakfast-table."
The stranger looked intently at Sir Wycherly for a moment, then glanced
his eye at the groom and the pony, after which he took a survey of Tom
Wychecombe, the lieutenant, and the master. He was a man accustomed to
look about him, and he understood, by that rapid glance, the characters
of all he surveyed, with perhaps the exception of that of Tom
Wychecombe; and even of that he formed a tolerably shrewd conjecture.
Sir Wycherly he immediately set down as the squire of the adjacent
estate; Dutton's situation he hit exactly, conceiving him to be a
worn-out master, who was employed to keep the signal-station; while he
understood Wychecombe, by his undress, and air, to be a sea-lieutenant
in the king's service. Tom Wychecombe he thought it quite likely might
be the son, and heir of the lord of the manor, both being in mourning;
though he decided in his own mind that there was not the smallest family
likeness between them. Bowing with the courtesy of a man who knew how to
acknowledge a civility, he took the proffered seat at Sir Wycherly's
side without farther ceremony.
"We must carry the young fellow to sea with us, sir," rejoined the
stranger, "and that will cure him of looking for flowers in such
ticklish places. His Majesty has need of us all, in this war; and I
trust, young gentleman, you have not been long ashore, among the girls."
"Only long enough to make a cure of a pretty smart hurt, received in
cutting out a lugger from the opposite coast," answered Wychecombe, with
sufficient modesty, and yet with sufficient spirit.
"Lugger!—ha! what Atwood? You surely do not mean, young gentleman, la
Voltigeuse?"
"That was the name of the craft, sir—we found her in the roads of
Groix."
"And then I've the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wychecombe, the young officer
who led in that gallant attack?"
This was said with a most flattering warmth of manner, the stranger even
rising and removing his hat, as he uttered the words with a heartiness
that showed how much his feelings were in unison with what he said.
"I am Mr. Wychecombe, sir," answered the other, blushing to the temples,
and returning the salute; "though I had not the honour of leading; one
of the lieutenants of our ship being in another boat."
"Yes—I know all that—but he was beaten off, while you boarded and did
the work.
believe he might be the commander of one of the ships that had just come
in view.
"Good-morrow, gentlemen," commenced this person, as soon as near enough
to salute the party at the foot of the flag-staff; "good-morrow to ye
all. I'm glad to meet you, for it's but a Jacob's ladder, this path of
yours, through the ravine in the cliffs. Hey! why Atwood," looking
around him at the sea of vapour, in surprise, "what the devil has become
of the fleet?"
"It is lost in the fog, sir; we are above it, here; when more on a level
with the ships, we could see, or fancy we saw, more of them than we do
now."
"Here are the upper sails of two heavy ships, sir," observed Wychecombe,
pointing in the direction of the vessels already seen; "ay, and yonder
are two more—nothing but the royals are visible."
"Two more!—I left eleven two-deckers, three frigates, a sloop, and a
cutter in sight, when I got into the boat. You might have covered 'em
all with a pocket-handkerchief, hey! Atwood!"
"They were certainly in close order, sir, but I'll not take it on myself
to say quite as near together as that."
"Ay, you're a dissenter by trade, and never will believe in a miracle.
Sharp work, gentlemen, to get up such a hill as this, after fifty."
"It is, indeed, sir," answered Sir Wycherly, kindly. "Will you do us the
favour to take a seat among us, and rest yourself after so violent an
exertion? The cliff is hard enough to ascend, even when one keeps the
path; though here is a young gentleman who had a fancy just now to go
down it, without a path; and that, too, merely that a pretty girl might
have a nosegay on her breakfast-table."
The stranger looked intently at Sir Wycherly for a moment, then glanced
his eye at the groom and the pony, after which he took a survey of Tom
Wychecombe, the lieutenant, and the master. He was a man accustomed to
look about him, and he understood, by that rapid glance, the characters
of all he surveyed, with perhaps the exception of that of Tom
Wychecombe; and even of that he formed a tolerably shrewd conjecture.
Sir Wycherly he immediately set down as the squire of the adjacent
estate; Dutton's situation he hit exactly, conceiving him to be a
worn-out master, who was employed to keep the signal-station; while he
understood Wychecombe, by his undress, and air, to be a sea-lieutenant
in the king's service. Tom Wychecombe he thought it quite likely might
be the son, and heir of the lord of the manor, both being in mourning;
though he decided in his own mind that there was not the smallest family
likeness between them. Bowing with the courtesy of a man who knew how to
acknowledge a civility, he took the proffered seat at Sir Wycherly's
side without farther ceremony.
"We must carry the young fellow to sea with us, sir," rejoined the
stranger, "and that will cure him of looking for flowers in such
ticklish places. His Majesty has need of us all, in this war; and I
trust, young gentleman, you have not been long ashore, among the girls."
"Only long enough to make a cure of a pretty smart hurt, received in
cutting out a lugger from the opposite coast," answered Wychecombe, with
sufficient modesty, and yet with sufficient spirit.
"Lugger!—ha! what Atwood? You surely do not mean, young gentleman, la
Voltigeuse?"
"That was the name of the craft, sir—we found her in the roads of
Groix."
"And then I've the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wychecombe, the young officer
who led in that gallant attack?"
This was said with a most flattering warmth of manner, the stranger even
rising and removing his hat, as he uttered the words with a heartiness
that showed how much his feelings were in unison with what he said.
"I am Mr. Wychecombe, sir," answered the other, blushing to the temples,
and returning the salute; "though I had not the honour of leading; one
of the lieutenants of our ship being in another boat."
"Yes—I know all that—but he was beaten off, while you boarded and did
the work.
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